I don’t usually write a 3rd post, but the 3 F alliteration (contrived as it is) was not to be ignored.
I fell down on the street when I was going to the market; misjudged a curb when I jumped over a puddle, in front of half a dozen people at the bus stop, all of whom helped me get right-side-up again. Banged my bad knee into the curb, the one without a kneecap.
I hadn’t taken any acetaminophen this morning, but have now.
Falling with Fibromyalgia on the First February Friday: You can’t be more alliterate than that, unless I was to throw in a couple of fucks and some fear (which you will notice I refrained from doing), or feckless.
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A dove is back, this one is more gray breasted than the previous, it can’t get at the feeder, so goes down to the seed that has fallen onto the snow, there is plenty of that; sparrows are sprinkly eaters.
And so it goes this morning.
Ouch. I bet that made you freaking frustrated, but it was fortunate that those friendly folks so fundamentally and fervently favored you. (But seriously, that must have hurt. Hope you’re feeling better.)
Feckless. What a great word. I just like the way it sounds. I had to look it up to be sure of its meaning: lacking purpose or vitality; feeble or ineffective. That makes the opposite of feckless (feck) a good thing. So, being really “fecked up” is a good thing. I guess it would be a compliment to be described as “that fecking guy” or if I was considered a “real fecker”.
Lol, I guess that’s enough furtive frivolity for Friday, February the first.
I am not going to compete with 8 Fs, the effing goes to Bill, F to thee Bill.
Your comments on feck remind me of that German would ficke.
YIKES! I hope you are better soon!
Damn, I used up all my Fs on feck, nothing left for ficke.