Urgh

I'm not good at doing plaintive. I'm not a very plaintive person, which would make me a plaintiff. In fact, if you had asked me a few decades ago what a plaint was, I would have thought it was some sort of colourless paint, totally not outstanding in any way. Or perhaps, the past tense of plain, some sort of ex-plain.

Today was just hot and oppressive. Everything was very past-tense. Sort of hypotensive. Or full of pretense, which the Brits would call pretence, thus proving how little they know about tension. Wait, I'm a British citizen (or is that a subject?) That would make me a ruled Britannian.

Which brings me back to urgh. It's probably the stuff that makes milk into yoghurt. Without urgh, yoghurt would just be yot. Which means a teeny-tiny speck of almost-nothing, in Hebrew.

You know it is a hot oppressive day when your ear-wax dries up and falls out in embarrassing little amber flakes. Yet another one of the urgh things about today.