I fancy that I’m a cautious sort of fellow, that is to say I am wary for, and take pains to preserve my personal safety. I can say this now, after a ten-year departing bout from the military of being anything but timid and, well… pusillanimous. Thank you ring game ‘Minister’s Cat’ for gifting me with that choice word to replace the word ‘sissy’.
The subject arises in light of the recent and mysterious account of Sophia Wilansky, who was gravely wounded by what her supporters are describing as a police riot-control concussion grenade, one that quite alledgedly blew a substantial length of humerus from her left arm. The style of concussion grenade with even a remotely similar potential, well it never really existed at all; pure hogwash and poppycock, if I may indulge in a few words of color, as they prefer to be called these days.
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