I'm five yards away, and horribly jealous. He comes over and pours honey in my ear about how all those months back I said I couldn't play it and then I brought so much to it and I am faint from what I can't say.
He's since run his own shop, building, winding/making pickups, doing restorations and relicing guitars.
In trickery, evasion, procrastination, spoliation, botheration, under false pretences of all sorts, there are influences that can never come to good.
This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdur'd.
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