Following a minor disaster on the orange squash front, this week’s word was intended to be spillage, but as a result of said spillage, my s and w keys have stopped working. I managed to rite that first sentence thank to the cunning manipulation of copy and pate, but it a o fiddly that I’ve decided thi eek’ word (autocorrect picked up that one) ould have to ait until I’ve had a chance to open up my laptop and clean the key.
o apologies for that. I did consider ploughing on and being hat kind of random art might emerge, or turning it into an Only Connect type game here you have to fill in the blank and fork out (autocorrect again) the true meaning, but I’m tired of it already o I can only imagine ho you’re feeling. It’ only hen you loe something like an or a that you really ho precious they are.
I feel bereft, poerle, pillaged even. hen you can’t rite ord like ho, a, an, ih, or itfulne, there’ really very little point in going on, i there? o until next time, have a good eek.
