and still they come

Unbeknownst to many people the Amnesty logo was originally a drainpipe lying on its side wrapped in barbed wire (rather than the current upright candle) and was based on this drainpipe on the east side of Teviot.

Probably.

This looked better a couple of months ago on a nice sunny morning but there may not be another sunny morning before this particular view is blocked by the installation of mobile food-vending vehicles and the other Festival-related kerfufflery which infest the little patch of nothingness on Charlesfield besides the popular Teviot Row student union building during Fringetime. Speaking of strangely-dressed people this guy was wearing shorts and a T-shirt under his coat but evidently wanted to create a particular impression upon people catching sight of him from the rear. I'm surprised his companion was walking as close to him as she was. I wouldn't want to be associated with anyone wearing a Drizabone full stop, never mind if they were trying to look like a flasher too.

Instead of having a nice peaceful day of buggerall I had to do some tiling after Nicky employed the threaten-to-do-it-really-unsafely technique of DIY-avoidance. I'd just installed my plugs and finally (after six months of cupboard-lurking) reconnected the computer to the amp to the speakers and was looking forward to sitting down comfortably midway between the latter for a couple of hours too. Still, at least the grout sealed up the large cut on the back of my finger created when attempting to saw a ping-pong ball in half this morning. Everything dragged on so long (though I'd rather that than bodge something) that our celebratory (hopefully Mexican or Turkish) outside-meal had to be replaced with a veggie biryani and a kebab from Mahal. Even after purposefully eating nothing since breakfast I barely managed to get rid of it all and am amazed that I used to be able to eat one whilst simultaneously walking as a student. As I recall those from Istanbul (now Palmyra) were even bigger although Mahal always had the nicer-flavoured sauce. Ah well. Neither quite beat a nice fresh doughnut from the late-night bakery (now Scayles) but all such things are now long gone.

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