The roar of the pyromaniac induced solid fuel burner, the roar of the winter winds and the roar of the boiling seaside. All strangely comforting at this time of year.
These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
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