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Pit Stop

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When you're lying awake with a dismal headache and repose is tabooed by anxiety, I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in without impropriety. For your brain is on fire; the bedclothes conspire of usual slumber to plunder you. First, your counterpane goes and uncovers your toes, and your sheet slips demurely from under you. Then the blanketing tickles; you feel like mixed pickles, so terribly sharp is the pricking. And you're hot, and you're cross, and you tumble and toss till there's nothing 'twixt you and the ticking. Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap, and you pick 'em all up in a tangle. Next, your pillow resigns and politely declines to remain at its usual angle.
Iolanthe (other) by W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan
Language: English
Submitted by: pentalon
This text has been typed more than 1000 times:
Avg. speed: 95 WPM
Avg. accuracy: 97.1%

Top 10 scores for this text

User Speed Accuracy Points Place Date Options
1 joshua728 206 WPM 99.0% 433 1/2 June 3, 2022
2 arenasnow 198 WPM 100.0% 416 1/2 May 31, 2019
3 arenasnow2 184 WPM 99.0% 387 1/4 Nov. 13, 2020
4 m4dara 184 WPM 99.0% 386 1/5 Nov. 11, 2020
5 poopandfart 177 WPM 99.0% 373 1/3 Dec. 17, 2020
6 slekap 176 WPM 98.0% 370 2/4 Nov. 13, 2020
7 mako640 173 WPM 99.0% 364 1/3 July 17, 2019
8 7emp7a7ion 172 WPM 98.0% 361 1/2 June 24, 2020
9 rosewolf 168 WPM 99.0% 354 1/2 March 18, 2020
10 landarian 167 WPM 98.0% 351 1/5 Sept. 3, 2020