Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

As I may well be experiencing the more prosaic features of an English autumn by the time you’re reading this – snarled up on the M25 in freezing fog on my way to Dever Springs – I thought I’d run this nice homage to the West Virginia version in my absence.

The speakers on my office computer are more softly-spoken than a kid on his first day at big school and my earphones cord is so short that I can only use them if my head’s pressed flat to the desk, so if this clip sizzles with expletives and genital gags, I can only plead blissful ignorance.

Oh dear; it was meant as a compliment. Here’s the link instead…


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