[…]for it has been a common ſaying of phyſicians in England, that a cucumber ſhould be well ſliced, and dreſſed with pepper and vinegar, and then thrown out, as good for nothing.
The symbols, all warnings of impending doom, might well have read: “You have fucked the engine, you arsehole.
The set was at times hyperaggressive, hyperassertive; here and there you wanted to tell it to back off.
The only reasonable objection that could be made was its being cutcha—that is, built with mud instead of mortar.
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