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OK, break it up fellas! As the members rally around to assist the chap from Law and Order he protests, “I’m alright!” After a slap fight, no one is ‘alright’. You may be the only one who feels sore palms, but everyone feels your shame.
Away from the indignant glove slapping and James is driving a wagon. I like wagons and I’m guessing James does as well. We have this in common. I hope to write to him about it. First, I shall join a wagon club, then I will be all, “Hi James, I’m in a wagon club. I’ve got some pawpaw ointment, if your hands are chafed from holding the reins.” He won’t respond. No one ever does. I offer countless film characters ointment and they don’t even have the decency to say, “No thanks”. But do I complain? Of course I do! I ordered ten gallons of ointment and I can’t get rid of it. I didn’t realise how big a gallon was, I just thought it’d be quaint to order liniment using an imperial measure. I’d better take-up lip biting; or get into as many slap fights as it takes for my cheeks to crack.