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Each Move Must Consist Of Precisely Eight Words
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Just as it says on the tin. What happens in the game may be debated in the game: perhaps it'll be a conversation, perhaps a word-limited reprise of various games we play, or whatever.
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Hoorah, outbreak amongst colleagues. Obsessively testing daily, then.
Clear blue skies, sun shining, Friday. Deep joy.
Anyone want an NFT? Go on, take two.
(Bismarck) I must refuse because I can't funge.
I always thought fungible sounded a little racy.
Fungible - is that like mushrooms? I hate mushrooms.
*Cries and hides away in some moist woodland*
Fungible means "like a bogeyman" - so I'm told.
Is this someone who continually picks his nose?
If I could pick my nose, I'd choose...
Well I certainly wouldn't have chosen this one.
I would not have chosen that one either.
Michael Jackson picked his quite a few times.
Did he use a nosepick? Like a toothpick?
Colleague bought chocolate croissants. Return to office - hurrah!
Retired, one has to buy one's own cakes.
Still working from home. No sharing my chocolate!
Working from home alone four days a week.
[penelope] Chocolate croissants? A flogging offence, here, surely.
I believe they're export-only. Not for domestic consumption.
Or better to call them pain au chocolat?
With my coffee I had ginger cake today.
Had my first coffee of the year today.
You'll be needing more around half past October.
Nothing would happen in my classes without coffee.
Nothing would happen in my coffee without glasses.
Your week in eight words, I'll go first.
Cancelled trip home, booked another, still no rain.
Saw last half of “Tove”. Trains to blame.
Looking at lovely weather outdoors while working inside.
I'm a workplace agony uncle now, it seems.
Covid visited for ten days then thankfully left.
[Nights] Surely here's safe to share it. Do.
[pen] Kind, but this is my happy place.
Happy but difficult. I'm stumped on limerick lines.
There was a young lass here called pen.
Well that fails to help MY stumpedness, Rosie.
Who lived in a mill on the fen.
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