I think this is my all time favourite album cover, which admission will probably bring a monstrous regiment of women arriving in a fleet of coaches tomorrow armed with rusty razor blades.
By way of convenient deflection, I can report that a friend of mine from back in the 80s knew Mick Fleetwood's auntie. He did. She worked at the Social Security office in Liverpool, and by an odd coincidence, so did he.
OK, it's a tenuous connection four steps removed, but it's a connection.
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