Your everyday Abbeyhill face-off … between cats. When I departed they were still exchanging stares out of a Sergio Leone Mexican standoff.
Category Archives: Cats
Abbeyhill, Edinburgh. A cat eyeballed me this morning. I ran away.
Nothing much to see here – just the Abbeyhill jungle cat lording it over its kingdom.
Don’t F**k With Cats: Hunting An Internet Killer.
Watching this was a regret – I hated every minute of it but was compelled to witness the ghastly proceedings unfold. I usually have a weekday curfew of 11:00 p.m. but here I was lucid way into the wee hours with a WhatsApp cat topic frenzy on the go. Lesson learned: Do not ever Netflix (verb) when it’s dark.
The Internet is the Digital Frontier and all that, and now it appears to be the case that the apotheosis of human endeavour is an outlet for almost every single looney with a vengeance; the World Wide Web and the sociopath are meant to be.
The online sleuths in the three-episode show are more competent than the cops meant to be doing the basics of their jobs as professionals, which says rather a lot. The only reason I kept on watching was how in the fuck they managed to uncover the things they did. It is must-see detective work.
Further reading/viewing:
Trying to capture album covers.
Ventured into some vinyl shop on Cockburn Street, Edinburgh the other day. I wished to recreate the truly gnarly album cover of DJ Shadow’s truly spellbinding Entroducing (1996).
Entroducing (1996).
I was loitering around the venue for a good 25 minutes, the owner becoming visibly vexed with yours truly. He didn’t like the cut of one’s jib, nor the fact I was papping his customers.
I managed to get a half-decent snap out of the 1,835 taken, and this was of some random not even in the fucking shop.
I’ll see you in another life when we are both cats.
Wee Boris.
I’m not sure of his exact birthday but Wee Boris will be coming up for five years now. I find it amusing that the world has gone completely mental over the past half decade, yet Wee Boris has been just essentially chilling, and has no conception of human affairs. He shits in a box and we clean it up. It must be great being a pampered animal. Ignorance is bliss.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 