Hound point last night at 2200. No hounds, no point, no ships at anchor (other than the duty tugs off duty), nice and quiet, still as a June evening's likely to get here at postcode EH30.
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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