05/09/2025

Welcome Freak Fuckers

Welcome back to the blessed shores of Thee Freak after the long hot summer of Project Earth Scorch by the powers that be that still deny anything is actually happening

Genocide – Check
Huge Wholesale Corruption – Check
Democracy Being Destroyed – Check
Loathsome Hatred Of Innocents Who Supposedly Are Put On This Earth To Steal Our Jobs That We’re Too Fucking Lazy and It’s Below Us To Do… – Double Check
Climate Change – Triple Check

But it’s all just fucking sunny side up and you don’t have to worry about any of this because we’re taking care of it… (ahem, but you’re looking in all the wrong places, everything is just fine)

Cunts

Anyway, on to better climbs for this short time

Let’s lose our minds in some good music and numb the pain

First up

With a hugely hugely megahugely welcome return to these shores of Europe by the ever wonderful Redd Kross and some outlandishly good shows to boot (they never let you down) here’s a fuzzy blast of wholesome glampsych off their latest elpee.
They saved my summer fer sure, fucking wonderful.

Don’t leave it again for eons McDonald Bros, we need you!
I can see Jeff and Steve as Freak President and Freak Vice President, we’d be a lot better off.

Next up

Let’s have some Dr. John Cajun swing shall we?
It’s just over six years now since Mac left us for better gumbo in distant swamplands.
But the Night Tripper can still entertain, enthral and entice… and as we all walk on gilded splinters of late, we can smile and shimmy along with Mama Roux.

Lastly

With a voice honey and gold, Fred Neil is sadly more famous for writing songs that were covered by others and made more successful.
Tim and Harry took them elsewhere and both are fantastic voices in their own right.
But, I’ll always find solace in Fred.
Many frazzled late nights from years ago often ended in the embers of Fred’s richness.
If you’re on a journey tonight, you can’t do better than ending it with a smidge of Fred… it makes the next day all the better.

So that wraps up this first instalment of the new season of the freak
Much more freakdom to arrive on your shores

Have tip top weekends y’all

Same time, same channel next week

Blessed Are The Freaks

Stay safe now
RH X

25/07/2025

Greets Freak Pickers,

It’s festival time all over Europe…

Expensive tix, long queues for anything and to add insult to injury… a tenner plus for a fucking shite beer that you wouldn’t even mop the floor with.
So with his in mind… stay indoors away from the twats and lest have a mini fest but with only one artist.

I felt the need to lighten up a bit as I’ve been in a shitty state about the state of this godforsaken globe we are barely existing on.
I needed some respite from my own dark mutterings and felt some colour in listening to some Todd.

In fact, I’m gonna call this Todd Rundgren day and salute the man, who did some pretty far out shit before it all got too proggy.

Sorry Todd, don’t like Utopia but you still have my respect for just doin’ yer own thing for so long, completely off your own back.

And you produced a few very very decent records for others too…
So yeah, let’s hail the pop genius of Todd for a real freakage.

Welcome to the Freak’s very own…
TODDFEST!

So here’s the first, from Nazz II…
A glorious psychy power pop act of wonderment.

It ain’t no fugazi, forget about it.

Next up,

Can’t have no Nazz without this slice of majik psych gorgeousness and some very far out fuckery of phasing
It’s all about the eyes brothers and sisters.

Thirdly
More power pop awesomeness that’s one of the very first examples of it.
Comes late in the day of the Something/Anything and its a stand out track for me at least.
This is up there with Chilton and you know I love me some Chilton.

Fourthly
You can’t have Todd without this… really.
I think he was listening to a lot of Carole King when he wrote this… it’s rhyming and general arrangement is bang on.
It’s awesome and I won’t have a bad word said about it…
I bet it’s some couple’s tune out there… just know it.

And lastly
If Super Furry Animals haven’t heard this, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.
It’s right up their avenue of freakdom… and for the record, I like SFA
1974… who distorted a drum track like that?
Nothing I’ve heard I have to say so correct me if I’m wrong.
The trouble with this track… it’s too fucking short.
It’s a doozy.

So I’ll leave you now as you’re all looking a bit peaky.
Stay away from the brown acid!

With Love,
RH X

18/07/2025

Sup Freakniks,

Mixed bag this week but ain’t no crime on mixing it up…

Here we go:

First up,

Iowa’s “loudest band in town” GONN were brief (‘65/‘67) with only two official singles but a bunch of hip huggin’ strides shakin’ chelsea boot wearin’ demos and whatnot have been slipped out to groovesters over the years.
Fat on the Seeds style Vox continental organ grinders, tales of youndblood lust and generally being a badass aplenty mixed with teen angst of the kind only Frankie Avalon might dream of not that many years before… something that Shangri-Las did so well.
Here’s a perfect blend of both, cheerfully titled Death Of An Angel.

GONN man… solid GONN

Next up

You knew it was coming sooner or later, eh?
You just can’t keep a good CAN down

Mooney period is harder edged than good ol’ Damo. A bit more insistent and perhaps more darker than the more fluid and barefootin’ Suzuki masterstrokes.
He wasn’t always the well man by accounts and perhaps that gave it the more Velvets tinge in the relentless rhythms.
Of course, holding it all down was the matchless human metronomic presence of Jaki Liebezeit, and this rarity is prime Jaki… oh yes, may I say… fuckin’ prime Jaki.
The snare crack alone makes this prime hip shiftin Liebezeit astroscience.
Then you have Czukay and Karoli just sharpening those jagged edges.
It’s absolutely full power electricity spikes and no-one had this down like CAN

I hope we can forgive the somewhat shitey sexist lyrics… it’s too good a track to bemoan something that had perhaps a more innocent climate to float around in. I’m not sticky up for Mooney’s lacking of tact, but its deadly and perfect apart from that element and I’ll fight on the beaches for a band that STILL is like no other.

And lastly

With a voice of liquid gold and the songwriting talents to boot – she’s up there with Carole King, trust me – Jackie was a mover and a shaker years before she had hits of her own. Tho it wasn’t for the want of tryin’… name changes galore spread out over a myriad of great singles that never sadly caught fire.
She even wrote a couple of toons with Jimmy Page when they dated and it’s believed Tangerine is written about her.
Maybe she was a little older for him – fuck sorry, that was uncalled for… ahem.

Anyways, I ain’t crate diggin with Jackie… there’s more gems out there if you’re so inclined to look.
I’m going with this… purely because it’s a fuckin’ great toon ANNNNNNND in the name of humanity can we stand up and fucking fight now… with love and compassion because we fucking need it… everywhere.

That’s it fer me this week
Put a little love in your heart for Gaza and fuck those fuck breathing zionists to fucking hell and stop the genocide.

Yeah, I know… and my cat shits gold.

If I’ve upset you with that comment, maybe yooz in the wrong part of town and need to fuck off elsewhere scumbag

Over n out y’all
Love

RH X

11/07/2025

Hey Freak fans

You’ve had your summer holiday from my blather, time to get the freak back on!
It’s “fuck, it’s fucking hot!”… I for one can say in my older age status, it can fuck off now.

Let’s get this shit started

First up

A man who was smack bang in the middle of the burgeoning “industrial” scene but doesn’t get talked about that much and that’s a great bastard of a shame, because he deserves to be.
I’d go as far as saying he was actually ahead of that curve.

Mr. Robert Rental

Not a lot of recorded solo material surfaced when he was alive, more actually came out after his sad and premature death at the age of 47, he preferred to make music with his friends Thomas Leer and Daniel Miller (The Normal and later head of Mute)
A few scattered releases on Rough Trade and Mute and a great album, The Bridge, with Leer on Industrial

Sadly, his one and only single on Mute was this beauty and a classic of its time

Next up

Let’s have some mod freakpop a la France shall we?
Yeah, let’s get some cubans heels a stompin’

Monsieur Dutronc, who was more known as a songwriter, had his own eclectic brand of musics… like fellow compatriots Serge and Johnny, they liked to skip across genres in that very forgiving French manner that pretty much was de rigueur of the time and no classicists got their knickers in a twist as they would have here in the UK or US.
Tho it might be argued that Serge was a genre in himself, but that’s another chapter elsewhere in the great scheme of all this music palaver.
Anyways… Dutronc hit his own stride with this absolute fucking monster of garagey freakbeat
And nobody has matched the enthusiasm of screaming “waaah!” quite like him…
three million Gitanes later, he’s still a leathered rock n roll demon at 82

And last but not least

Mr. Cale

I don’t have to write about my love of Cale, it’s well documented elsewhere and everywhere.
I’m leaving it up to you to find out

That’s it for this week on the situation abnormal channel
Be here next week for more tales of the freak and have cool splendiferous weekends you beautiful bastards of freak

Be Seeing You

RH X

20/06/2025

Hey Freaksters,

It’s hot… I mean fucking hot.
Let’s get the freak flags flying shall we?
You betcha!

You wanna hear some far out tunage?
Here we go then!

First up

For fans of An American Trilogy by the larger version of Elvis, we have this weirded wig of a single by Mickey Newbury, the man who wrote it. You’ll agree, this is a different kettle of BBQ ribs entirely.

Mickey was a shit hot Texan cowpoke country songwriter in Nashville and got fucking freaky far out for a bit.
Like most that dip their toes in a genre they don’t really know how to emulate, they make it different.
It’s not cosmic country that Gram Parsons made his own or the hickory smoked psychsplash of The Byrds I Wasn’t Born To Follow… This is all fizzy bee stuck in a jar geetars, deep deep Hammond organ out-thereness and psychtastic trippy lyrics… but with a touch of the Hank Williams.

He later wrote the psychdramarama Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In) which you’ll know from The Big Lebowski more than anything. The group was First Edition, whose lead singer was a certain acid lovin’ Pre-Ruby Kenny Rogers.
Let’s go bowlin’
Far fucking out maaaaan!

Next up
We can’t have a freak without Sky Saxon can we?
Right up until he died, Sky was Sky SUNLIGHT Saxon… the kind of
weirdster that you’d probably cross the street from if he wasn’t
Sky SUNLIGHT Saxon.
He still called all the sisters “chicks” and in his pretty burned out brain, still thought he was the Acid King of 1967, even tho he had more than a passing resemblance to Jerry Lewis the comedian.He even sounded a bit like him… hmmmmm, maybe he was Jerry Lewis in a fucking far out version of The Nutty Professor.

The dirty ol Sky SUNLIGHT Saxon once tried to hit on an old partner of mine when he was old enough to be her grandfather.
That ain’t hip man.
But you can’t really blame him… he was Sky SUNLIGHT Saxon after all.
Let’s plant some Seeds shall we with Mr Farmer.

Last up
Who loves a cowbell?
Who has a fever… for more cowbell?

This ain’t Blue Oyster Cult because there was a band that fucking loved the cowbell.
That band was The Chambers Brothers.
Four brothers and a couple of other dudes that went from folk, Afro Caribbean rhythms, to psych soul and ended up somewhere around funky soul.
One thing that stood out… A Cowbell.
Damn, they loved that cowbell so much, it’s the main instrument on the early single “Call Me”, pushed soooo far up in the mix, I don’t know why they didn’t just call it “Call Me Cowbell”
Anyways… we ain’t here for that.
We’re here for their magnum opus The Time Has Come.
And you’re gonna get the full cowbell enriched version!

You can thank me later cowbell enthusiasts

That’s it for this week Freaksters
Have many cool beverages over this heatwave weekend
and think of me on Friday night because I’m in an Osees kinda mood and I shall be at the Leeds show.
I just know, it’s going to be a fucking microwave in there

Stay cool, stay finite

Bon Week-End!
RH x

17/06/2025

Hey Freaksters,

It’s a freak bonus this week and it’s getting hot outside!

As the world turns and quite rightly, all point their attention to the genius of Brian Wilson, I’m gonna to put my hand up and say…

Don’t you fuckers be forgetting about Carl and Dennis now!
Both long departed to the ocean in the sky but absolutely integral to all things boyishly beachy.

We can fuck off Mike Love, still running on what little steam he can puff his way along to now in some godforsaken corporate granny shindig that even Al Jardine finally said… “you’re an asshole, I’m outta here!”

Intrinsic in the harmonies their brother made sweet, Carl’s voice always balanced it for me, he had the tone to take it away from being sometimes a little twee – yeah, I’m gonna burn for that in hell some day, trust me I know.

Dennis, the real handsome and tan beach boy, the only one that ever went surfing, whose drumming was often replaced in later sessions for the talents of the likes of Hal Blaine (Legendary member of the Wrecking Crew – who we’ll cover one day when the freak machine turns it’s lights to uber freak Phil Spector, the murdering gun totin’ crazy pants genius he was) as Brian stayed at home when the Boys toured.

Denny hung out with Manson and the girls or rather, they took over his house, mooched, snorted and imbibed all his food, drugs and booze until it got even too crazy pants for him… and he was getting along that road of crazy pants pretty fucking quick.
Silly enough to “borrow” a tune from Charlie and not give him a credit or any royalties… sheesh, one can guess how that went down with Mr #1 Crazy Pants. It’s thought el primo loco pantos sent the family to murder Terry Melcher, who was best buds with Dennis and supervised some of the demo recordings Charlie did for them, who rented the house at…. Cielo Drive.
We know where it went from there, don’t we brothers and sisters?

Dennis, in my mind, struck gold in later forays post Smile in the studio when Brian was knee deep in cat and dog shit in his in-house sand pit and seemingly hell bent on losing his mind.
Given the odd one or two tracks per album, Dennis did his thang and revealed a subtle beauty barely anyone knew he had. And beautiful it fucking was…

Side note:
If you’ve never heard it, the long out of print solo album Pacific Ocean Blue is fantastic. After years of being a crate digging treasure, it was reissued a number of years ago and done with a lot of love, check it out brother and sister freaksters, it’s worth the ride.

But it’s here that the heaven of freakdom celebrates those odd one or two tracks

Firstly, Surf’s Up is a pretty decent record, no better or worse than the previous two or three studio elpees.
For me it’s highlight isn’t the track Surf’s Up ( which originally was planned for Smile) but it’s one of Carl’s first full blown solo writing contributions, the wonderfully airy and light Feel Flows.
It’s a little late in the day for psychedelia by that time, but it has the correct amount of quasi eastern mysticism and an obvious trip that threatened maybe to not come back from. It’s fucking fantastic and Carl’s voice was never better… it ranks high in my Beachy appreciation.

Three from Denny
I fucking love Dennis Wilson so it’s hard to just pick three but three it’ll be
First we have said track “borrowed” from Charlie Crazy Pants
I’d post the crazy pants track so the comparison could be made, but there is only room for enough freakdom in one day… another day maybe.
It’s called Cease To Exist and it’s found easily on the boob of you.

Next up
Not an album track, a very rare single.
Made with the bloke who became Captain and Tennelle (terrible slushy stuff that makes Hall and Oates sound like Slayer) a bit later, Daryl Dragon. It’s been floated around in various mixes, some way too lush in the orchestration.
This more minimal version is the best

Lastly
The most beautiful track Dennis ever did in my mind.
I’ve long considered Expecting To Fly by Buffalo Springfield to be the most beautific thing ever committed to tape but this quite rightly has a good stab at it and Carl’s harmonies are sublime. To be honest, it’s completely wasted on the album L.A.

Not a whole deal of time later, Dennis was gone, after partying hard, really really hard, the day before he vowed to go back to detox, he went diving with no apparatus for “treasure” off his boat in a marina and went down one time too many.
Aged only 39, he was fucked up, homeless and struggling with multiple divorces… the beauty of his music didn’t really echo his actual life sadly.

Carl passed at the age of 51 due to lung cancer in the late ‘90s

Sooooooooo… don’t forget Carl and Dennis!
All of three of em together again one hopes

Laters Gators
RH X

13/06/2025

A brutal week has been had Freaksters!

Two utter freak legends gone to the great freakside…
We cannot not pay tribute, it’s against freak law.

Sly was on the edge, coked out of his mind, pressurised by the more militant Black Panthers to sack the white members of his family stone, who’d done so very much to advance integrated bands.
His masterpiece laying before him in reels of tape at his home and he’s overdubbing the shit out of everything to find what he’s hearing in his drug addled mind, causing the tapes to deteriorate and the sound to become ever more murky.
But somehow, he gets there… nobody knows it’s a masterpiece, yet.
There’s A Riot Goin’ On is that very masterpiece. Much like Arthur Lee and Forever Changes, it’s shit deep in disillusionment with the counter culture, violence is common place and the streets are threatened to be on fire any minute. Burn Fucker Burn is a new religion.
The singular vision rings out with the pain he’s feeling, the joy of dancing to the music has long gone.
There was that brief period where everything was right and now it was wrong.
There is small joy in TARGO but there’s still a lotta love.

Next up
You know Brian, I know Brian, we all know Brian.
Wether it’s the sun and the surf or the sweetness of first love, to the quirky and surreal dalliances of mind altering substances that often point the way of not being able to come back from.
We all have our faves.
It wouldn’t be the freak without touching on the freak edges and you don’t get much freakier than Smile.
The album that never truly was.
Even now, there hasn’t been a definitive. We have all the sessions, but like listening to all the bootlegs before anything vaguely official surfaced, you could compile your own version there was so much of it to take in.
No one, even the most hardcore Brianophiles, can truly tell us how it was meant to be. Speculation is all we have.
After Brian, I would imagine only Van Dyke Parks could touch the beginning and the end, and he has remained relatively quiet on it.

But the genius is there, and as well as the established in Good Vibrations, you get it in all the variant versions of Heroes and Villians.

Lastly
He’s long gone from us, but Townes Van Zandt should really be held in as much high esteem. Before new country was New Country, Townes was different. Deeper and richer in lyricism and stark as fuck.
If there were tears in the beer, they had a lot farther to fall.
Steeped in anguish, Townes really was a tortured soul and I don’t mean that as some sort of cliche. He lived the life he told.
Nobody could really touch him for the poetry of his songs, not even Kristofferson.
But I must add… this isn’t miserabilism. It’s genuine story telling of the pained of heart.

So, it’s a bit of a glum week fellow freakniks, but this is of celebration, not sorrow.
The music will always be here of these geniuses and they would want that to be the most important thing of all of it

Be well all and thanks to all for the birthday wishes too, it’s much appreciated.

Be true, be finite

Love
RH X

Better late than never…
Welcome Children Of The Freak

It’s my happening and it freaks me out!
Let’s fucking do this!

This week has marked the passing of The Electric Prunes singer James Lowe.
One of those bands that have an erratic history and even ended up not even being on the last two albums credited to them.
With more line up ins and outs than a nano thought of a one brain celled Maga moron, when the band were actually “allowed” to write their own tunage, they partied with the best of the West Coast psychsters.
This being one primo slice of spooky trip spectral goodness
Far out man, far fucking out!

Next up
Another band of ins and outs and a supposedly very mercurial leader, like The Charlatans ( No, not them) they didn’t really fit in.
Round pegs in the most squarest of holes, the beauty in mucho hindsight is that they produced one of the most varied and interesting catalogues. I think they were the US equal to The Incredible String Band.
Beautific Pacific

And finally
We leave the far ranging West Coast and head inland to the down and dirty streets of Motor City.
Not really associated with trippy guitar workout and more about Dope, Guns and Fucking In The Streets.
But the SRC were something of an enigma anyway. Not unlike classic Quicksilver Messenger Service twanging but were flowers in their hair didn’t wash in Detroit, the more darker edges cut thru the haze.
I fucking love SRC.

So there you have it kids
Another week bites the dust and so does this weekend.
I hope it’s been most splendid

See ya next time

RH X

23/05/2025

The boat slowly turned toward shore.  “We’re here,” a voice said.

Yes… yes you are my dearest freaks

Welcome to this week’s Heart Of Freakness and I’m your compound host, Col. Robert H Freak to guide your ears into the weekend.
There’s mines over there, there’s mines over there, and watch out those goddamn monkeys bite, I’ll tell ya.

Buckle up, here we go

Often accompanying a fierce slice n dice Upsetter skank, we have the mighty Dave Barker.
One of the original toasters with his demanding voice to coax the dancehalls into a rocksteady frenzy. He had a pretty sizable hit in the early 70’s with Ansell Collins in the legendary Double Barrel.
Who can beat an opening line of “ I… AM THE MAGNIFICENT”?
Yeah… that’s him, but this ain’t it.
Shocks Of Mighty is equally as thrilling and Scratch is firing on all cylinders

Next up:

Canned heat in the shape of a slice of extreme Young Gods metallic K.O.
I hear they’re making a return, which I might just have to pop along to and hope it’s as fucking blinding as they used to be live.
More Longue Route and less Skinflowers, s’il vous plaît…

D’accord!

And finally

When you love The Troggs (I do) and you love Cabaret Voltaire (lord know I do), imagine what you get when you combine the two.
The Cabs did a pulsating cover of The Seeds “No Escape” and here we have a similar path from Eric Debris.
When Metal Urbain shattered, Debris became Dr.Mix and turned a number of cover versions inside out on the Wall Of Noise album.
I have it on pretty good authority that two brothers in East Kilbride were fans.

That’s it for this week freakbeatniks

Slip your PBR ashore next week street gang, and we’ll snafu it all over again

Love your weekend because the weekend loves you

RH X

////// BONUS TRACK \\\\\\

In the morning we arise and start the day the same old way…

Not today Arthur,
let’s get far freaking out!

Here’s a bank holiday bonus freak for you freakniks

Forever Changes is in my top two fave albums of all time. It vies for the No.1 slot along with Exile, which purely depends on what mood I’m in. I’m happy with that, no complaints.
Recording of the album was troubled, and then some.
I’ve said it before, but I have a theory that often bands on the verge of splitting or having to deal with “issues” make the best albums.

Forever Changes

Exile On Main Street

Buffalo Springfield Again

All stand up to my theory.

Arthur had sacked most of the band because they didn’t seem to click with his panoramic paranoid vision of L.A. mixed in with the freaks (badge of honour, surely?), the drugs, the inevitable crumbling of the hippy dream… which I think he foretold two years before anyone else did, albeit in his own waking hours of feeling there’s trouble afoot, but he sees it differently.
Things weren’t good up at LOVE HQ, The Castle.
It was getting messy, and Arthur had begun the retreat into the self.

Getting sessions musicians from the Wrecking Crew in, Carol Kaye and Hal Blaine ( his snappy drumming on The Daily Planet is so beautiful, it defies explanation ) had caused further splits within the band.
Engineer Bruce Botnick pretty much had to coral Arthur away from lamping them because they couldn’t play what he was hearing in his head. They wanted to play so he had to tell them to shape up or get the fuck out. I think they got there in the end, but it was the last time the classic line up were together in a studio.

To compound the madness, possibly the weirdest occurrence of two outtakes being made into a single Your Mind And We Belong Together and Laughing Stock which would absolutely guarantee a complete flop.
But YMAWBT is certifiable genius. Every inch the complexities of what’s going on in Arthur’s troubled head.
By the time he’s tried to exorcise his demons, he claims he’s had enough and is locking his mind in the closet.
The multiple structures of all of Forever are in full force here. There’s another longer version of this where he’s obviously been goading Johnny Echols to out freak his fuzztastic freak solo, which goes on until he must be mentally exhausted, and Arthur pips in over the control desk mic…” that solo was really outta sight man!”
I can only imagine that was what it was like the whole time recording the album.
Driven to the edge and driving right the fuck over it.
It’s the audio equivalent of Thelma and Louise.
I fucking miss you Arthur Lee, you beautiful fucked up demon of fantastic paranoid wonderment.

16/05/2025

Listen to them, the children of the freak, what music they make.

Back in the ol days when labels like Decca, Deram and Parlophone would sign anyone with a mop top haircut, striped shirt, velvet strides and cuban heels, the plethora of 7”s that flooded the market only to sell 5 copies and the rest end up in a skip was enormous.
It’s heyday is what is known as Freakbeat. The rnb scronk and early psych splash hybrid that was pretty much unique to the British shores and the bands were plentiful, seemingly as common as the full english breakfast or toffee apples at the fair.
Typically, the surviving vinyl now commands mucho grande moolah.
This curio isn’t My Sharona, but it’s got more than a hint of Ticket To Ride with a dollop of Byrdsian charm.

Next up…
It’s no secret that The Creation/ Mark Four were the Mod freakbeat kings in casa del Hampson back in the day.
And quite rightly… purely for Eddie Phillips alone, the righteous prince of the action painting guitar.
He more than held his own next to Townsend and Page and it’s about fucking time he got the full credit he deserves.
Here we have the lesser played UK version of How Does It Feel To Feel.
A tad slower than the more popular US version, more reverby and ethereal and it doesn’t have the violin bow wonky overdub.
Listen to those purple flashes.

Lastly
It’s been up before, but this really has to be the actual complete prime example of how to do freakbeat right.
It has everything and the kitchen sink thrown in it and then given three blotters of white lightning and sent merrily on its way.
But it’s always worth repeating purely for the fact it’s so trippy, you can actually feel colours whilst listening to it without chemical help.
You can keep yer white bicycles, I’ll stick with me Vacuum Cleaner thanks.

Will love you and leave you right there

Until the freak returns

Have wonderful weekends and may the blessed freak be with you

RH X