a lunchtime frustration at the inacessible computer facilities led to climbing out a window to pick tufts of moss off the roof to stuff in each other's ears; then a big muddy mess, but that's what they get for denying us the technology time we need. bah.
His lunch was part hot chocolate from a small white flask. he has a lot of cows but not a lot of land so he just stacks them up. when he made fun of my crappy story i said i'd revenge his using my shredded story as hamster bedding by spit roasting the critter, to which he yelped in fear as he fears spits. spitting is fine, he just don't go there with spits. his father was a spit. it was traumatic. it was ninety five percent chocolate with the hot milk added directly from the flaming cow he personally ignited prior to pumping.
a cup of tea is one euro. it's fifty cents in my own mug. but if i bring the bag then the water is free.
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