Even though i've erprodigized by the grand cross earlier, i now and then still suffer fats, fats not from my corpulent wavy lupo, but from the verdigris besmirching the glistening grand cross, nasty, mean, and malicious, esp when i was not supple enough, say, before a due warm-up. indeed, fats are the very de facto. those fats disabled courages, hindered progress, puzzled reasoning, perplexed simplicity, vexed tranquility, and worst of all, oscillating our faith, with which we weekend fellows have always been trusting ourselves to be emancipated and liberated since then, by which we thus could rest in peace with immaculate crispiness, no more irritated and formicated by the untouchable and seemingly impossible pie in the air, crooning un sospiro to our mercy heavenly Father with nothing to gain during those countless trial and error fiasco. yet after endeavouring to brass up the gears both mental and technique 'crossly', i've finally conjured up a right brand of scrub against the long-well-snugged dirties enabling greasy fats, six rusty spots, six misdemeanors though, which later would masquerade themselves to be 6 most notorious culprits - hence i call them 6c - that can ever relentlessly and effortlessly as well crush our feeble self-confidence and pathetically petty barely glimmering dignities, and which are:

1. demersus de caput
2. via externus
3. manus dexter dominante
4. dextro tardus
5. orbis tardus
6. articula duo rigida

nicely done and bravo for the completion of 14, hopefully also consummation, so that i can be freed and 'make even' for what would have deserved to be mine long ago.  i bet you would take it in no time, and then soon be as freed all the time. well, i mean tee time... :)
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