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The Vague Whelk thinks sometimes live here. Some of them are thanked out of a slippery.

GRUNTELED? MOI?

Today, a Friday, I am experiencing an unusual state. That of being mostly gruntled.

>How and why the gruntles have not evaporated, flown away, or become suffocated I am not sure.

Gruntles are barely understood at the best of times. But where they come from and where they go, nobody knows. Sometimes I imagine them towed away in the night by vengeful moths.

fin