Your friend Behr (Friend Behr, i.e. Behr, Friend) really threw his rigors in a melt this morning.
Being in a maximum security federal prison can do that to you. You wake up with the clout and your rigors get twisted and end up in a melt. And then where are you? It is hard to work out for those who haven't been knuckled out, but when those rigors get that way, you have a lot of unwinding to do and even then, the melt starts and your rigors get caught in them and then you have to call a plebe and tell them your balance equation and wait fifteen to twenty goddamned minutes before the bell even tolls. And then there are fifteen to twenty more minutes you have to wait and even then, the jam jar gets filled up and that needs to get unclogged (which requires going counter-clockwise) and even then, your rigors are still pretty much in a half-melt.
The left hand knuckling is, as you know, more difficult than the right hand knuckling when it comes to your rigors. And my situation was a VERY left-handed knuckling situation, and you can imagine my consternation when I got out of my bunk and I saw the gleem and knew it was time for morning chow (meal) and I can barely get across the floor without loosening the gyration control flexor. And that is VERY hard to reach from your bunk, as you damn well know.
I hope to get the kinks (not the same as kinky prototype prostitution) out by Friday because I have a switch pattern run that day and I will be disqualified from the third event if my rigors are still in a melt, which pretty much means I can't compete in the weekly demographic study group. And that would suck. I'll have to boil at least fifty left-turning grommets just to get past the monthly pear review. Ostentatious.