Seasonal salutations from Camp Stench.

The pong remains the same... but different.

Boss beats, magnificent meoldies, ruling rhythms and all the rest

Tardy... but hardy.

Have a flutter on some brazenly honking butter

Sportiva stinkophonica simpatico symphony.

Melodic miles on the rhythmic river.

Aged, a little staged, never disengaged.

Deep sweep, trawl to enthral.

As a wise man once said, 'it stinks, it stinks, it's stinky' - he's doing alright for himself now