Well peeps you can stop searching. I've found the sexy wrist splint so won't have to fess up to scary new OT on Tuesday. Whew! It was, of course, in the most obvious of places - in the kitchen hidden in a basket under a pile of oven gloves. Now fibro might make me as mad as a box of frogs sometimes but I know for a fact I've never tried to use said item as an oven glove or, indeed, tried to squeeze an oven glove on over it. I can only assume there is malice afoot. Having seen how much male attention I get when modelling the stunning accessory, my love rivals are trying to undermine my gorgeousness and steal my suitors. As the splint wasn't in the least bit soggy and no sign of aquatic weed, I can only assume VG has been falsely acting as stooge to put me off the scent. I am busy training up the resident chihuahua to attack intruders instead of licking them to death. You have been warned (please imagine emoticon for snarly face as not got Moffy's skills)
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