cream of sandstone wall
Considering how extraordinarily manky the outer walls of the National Museum have become in less than a decade the student-level bits of the outer walls of the buildings around George Square are doing relatively well unless studenty fingerprints don't show up under the nice greenish light.
Has anyone noticed a marked decline in the amount of common sense they exhibit over the years? It's the time of the year when every student descends on the preferred local shop at exactly the same time in order to talk to each other loudly and do highly-intelligent things such as queue in two directions across aisle junctions and generally act like twats. I'll admit that the queuing system occasionally changes and can maybe take perhaps TWO SECONDS to fully grasp but surely the same common sense which prevents people from falling over after forgetting to put the next foot forward when walking should also allow them to guess that people walking around the shop do so by means of the gaps between the blocks of shelves? Perhaps they expect everyone wanting to move to the next aisle to walk around the back by the freezer section instead of requiring them to leave a small gap in the queue so that people might wander freely. The really tricky thing seems to be for them to grasp that a queue might more sensibly turn a corner and continue alongside a block of shelf rather than protrude into an aisle and will moronically form additional branches on queues and then steadfastly refuse to acknowledge people in the real queue glaring at them, costing them precious minutes when they finally have to be advised that the back of the queue is far away. To be fair to students queue-position-senselessness is an increasing problem amongst the population at large, visible whenever people stand completely across a pavement in a queue for a cash machine rather than thinking for two seconds and then standing at the inside edge of the pavement alongside the wall into which the cash machine is built. There are also the people who do exceptionally stupid things like congregate in large chattering masses directly outside the doors to shops when there ae perfectly serviceable wider sections of pavement a couple of metres south. Sometimes they're so wrapped up in their special loud worlds of yah-bobbinsery that the only way to get past them is to stand behind one and prod it in the back until it grudgingly moves aside, smirking oleaginously.