I went to bed last night with blisters on both hands from my snow shovel. Fine. Whatever. However, when you rip one open on the edge of a table in class, it stops being fine. And it really stops being fine when, with the (accidental) aim of a professional knife-thrower, you give yourself a nice deep cardstock cut within the boundaries of the now open blister.
That sucked. That's all I really wanted to say.
I love your guts! I would kiss it better if you were closer.
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