Do you really want to hurt me?

Yucky sleety snow all the morning made dog-walking less of a pleasure than it can be. It didn't help that I'd had a rubbish night and woke up with a throbbing headache, all due to the bloody poxy MD where Ned works; a man whose honesty is easy to tell - if his lips are moving, he's lying. I'm very nearly at breaking point with him - I badly want to either phone him (or even better, see him face to face) to tell him what a misery he's making our lives, and when he's going to pay us the money he owes (nearly three grand would come in handy); but I don't know whether it'd make things worse for Ned. Hard to work out exactly how it could be, though.

On another theme, while scouring the Qwyzzle fora (Good for lack of spoilers, but badly in need of the zillions of whingy "Can someone PM me the answer? I've been stuck for nearly two minutes" posts to be removed) for hints I came across this interesting quote:

"Hmm... at least these have *mostly* been easier that the dreaded donkey so far..."

I think I may be persona non grata among certain of my chums for introducing this - sorry! ...... Nah, I'm not!