Fuddland
Eleven days after its last appearance, the infamous card was delivered again this morning — its fourth visit. Sadly I can’t send it out again, because they’re so convinced it’s for this address that somebody — probably the postman, but possibly a sorting office employee — has actually written my postcode on the bottom of the envelope, making it certain that the card will be delivered here every time. Comically they’ve also underlined [double underlined, even] the addressees’ names, as if I’d never noticed them before. [“Oh wait, it is for me! Doh.”]
It looks like Daisy guessed the number of mis-deliveries correctly. Unfortunately I never mentioned anything about a prize, so self-satisfaction will have to do.
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