Words fail me. They used to be my friends but now they can't be bothered. They're happy to just leave me in the middle of a thought with a gaping hole where the end of the sentence is supposed to be, thrashing around in my own ridiculous frontal lobes, searching (as I was last week) for the name of the, the, you know... the twirly thing, the wine thing, you know, the chrome, tugging, grunting thing - the popping thing. Come on, man, come on! Corkscrew, yes. It was only a few seconds of gormlessness but how can you forget a word that so brilliantly goes to the trouble of describing itself?
Gormlessness? Well, at least there's a word for it besides senile or demented or Altzheimer's but I probably will not be able to remember it.
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