it doesn’t get odder

I’ve never noticed it anywhere else I’ve lived but down at the wharf fireworks echo, badly, the noise of explosions is bouncing around the whole area as a million and one people gather in the freezing cold to waste money blowing things up. Moving on, I’m currently wasting the evening away sprawled across Myself and Dave’s bed, listening to radio 4 plowing through Meg’s archives… Couldn’t help but see this entry which is remarkably like a story I’ve heard about the house I currently live in… when the builders first came into the house apparently there were drugs in the kitchen and (and I’ll quote directly here) “piles and I mean piles of hard cash” stacked all over the house. It does make you wonder who used to live in your house doesn’t it?

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