Cruel Blows Of Fate Call For Extreme

Stew's So Comforting On A Rainy Day.

The Family - That Dear Octopus From Whose Tentacles We Never Quite Escape, Nor, In Our Inmost Hearts, Ever Quite Wish To.

I Was Wandering Around As Usual, In My Unpleasantly Populated Sub-conscious.

They Call Them The Haunted Shores, These Stretches Of Devonshire And Cornwall And Ireland Which Rear Up Against The Westward Ocean. Mists Gather Here, And Sea Fog, And Eerie Stories. That's Not Because There Are More Ghosts Here Than In Other Places, Mind You. It's Just That People Who Live Hereabouts Are Strangely Aware Of Them.

Perhaps What You Call Conventionality, I Call Decency.