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If there's cold food for lunch I'm gonna cut a *****. I'm cold, hungry and grumpy. After lunch I'm firing up my kettle for a cup of tea and maybe some ramen if lunch sucks... I wish I had a space heater and fuzzy carpet. I'm an utter grouch today...
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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