Fancy seeing you here. I've just been out trimming the edges. But rather than a one-sided telephone conversation where I essentially repeat everything you say with a question mark, I shall instead fax you this here letter. Dear Madam/Sir. My name is not important. The hole I've dug is mighty comfy. Won't you join me?
The Timescan not be held accountable for damages inflicted on persons of sound aesthetic judgment by the contents herein, but may, in time, register some guilt over the matter.
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Proceed with caution, whisky, whiskey, a bucket(,) and a blindfold.
Duck, Duck, Cockatiel
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The move is officially complete, though I'm still living with a few islands
of stuff—the main one located in what agents like to call the "meals area".
Rea...
Sullenly Thirty
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I'm aware this is some days postmature, and banal like tinned spaghetti,
but I needed it to sink in a little. More than most this is a milestone
that beget...
Permanent Settlement
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Dear friends, readers, passers by, Hugh, Ben, (Mike you are my face book
friend already)...,
I have not written anything here for a while and probably will...
Stuff to come AKA... R.I.P Arthur Lee
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Ok to fall in line with Hugh & the Angus eventually some form of a top ten
list will appear involving records & songs & such.
In the mean while here's a t...
What's your favourite thing about Hugh And The Times?
Micropost
Deep, suspicious eyes, prominent knees, corkscrew nose, lone rib, right-handed. Highly dangerous, slightly educated. Runs a fat-person café in St. Kilda. Always on the lookout. We've exchanged four words by now, three unprintable. Knows me well.
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