Wipe the shandy from the station master's ganzi. The train looms large on the horizon.

Don't let him embark with a ganzi full of shandy. He will be sticky and wet.

He will be unable to perform his duties.

That was a poem called the station master's ganzi, written by Hollywood actor Edward Farrellon.

Thank you Edward. Welcome everybody to the Blind by Podcast.

Welcome to the new listeners. If you're a new listener, call us into some earlier episodes.

You can listen to this one and listen to some earlier episodes afterwards.

If you're a regular listener, what's the crack? How are you getting on?

How you enjoying August? Is it crispy enough for you?

It's not crispy yet, is it?

When does August start getting crispy?

The last week of August, when I say crispy now, I refer to the violence of a falling leaf from a tree crumbling on an earpiece.

August is a very audible month. It announces itself with sound, the sounds of leaves on the earpiece,

the crumbling on the carpses of leaves, and just the sound that you don't really notice it,

but just leaves falling. You see I'm falling, but leaves make a little microscopic tod when they hit the ground,

but we're not there yet. We're not there yet. I'm still...

Do you know you still guess the kind of floral...

that floral bang of the evenings? You still get a bit of that.

It hasn't gotten cold yet, so I was out as soon as darkness hit.

I was outside because there's a par-seed mark, par-seed.

How the fuck do I pronounce that? A par-seed meteor shower happened in the night.

The skies are clear. I didn't see any of them. I was in an out looking up towards the direction of...

...