See, now I've got yrs & Merrick's ideas confused in my mind, & am left with a mental image of some bloke sitting out the back of his close, mournfully regarding his jeely piece. Not as farfetched as it sounds - once got chased away by a poor old guy outside the Great Eastern, cuz he thought I was trying to nick his piece, which he was lovingly jamming up on the pavement outside (he told me he had to sneak his pieces outside to avoid a feeding frenzy & my heart broke for him). But I digress. Going though the ninth wave of hangover defrag at the mo.
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