Britain is under a metre of snow, as shown by the love of my life. Meanwhile, I appear to be visiting the set of Blade Runner. Literally half a world apart.
The bread trails were made by my 20 year old twins. I am fat, grey and 60. Which isn't even the answer to life the universe and everything. Run my own business, happily married, but still remarkably short of cash. Isn't that the modern life?
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