A shithole, that is without question. But it’s my kind of toilet and it’s defined the past half decade of my life. I’m in that KFC three days a week. I’ve seen some faces come and go, yet I am the constant. It’s my escape from the office, which is even worse than the actual TV show The Office. I haven’t seen the American version.
Bye for now.
I have changed the slideshow setting. For a week.
They’ve shut the pubs for two weeks because apparently COVID-19 has a special taste for alcohol. Parks, however, appear to be safe places. Hundreds of folk within an inch of each other. But it’s okay, COVID-19 doesn’t like parks.
A few snaps from my Rome sojourn popped up on one of those memories/flashback social media feeds that continue to remind me to jettison the silly things. But here I am, to share my profound thoughts and sublime snaps with the world.
This was back in 2015 on a trip which also took in Milan and Venice. Rome was legit stunning to look at, but it could have been so much better without a few garish elements; rather than just have the actual remnants of antiquity remaining as … well, themselves, there loitered a whole parade of local cretins decked out in Praetorian Guard clobber and the like. It stank of tacky tourism.
The Colosseum would have also been that slightly more monumental if the local authorities (or UNESCO or whoever has ‘claim’) removed the shitty parked cars circling the arena. No one wishes to see a banged-up Fiat (or any other variety of motor) plonked outside Russell Crowe’s stomping ground.
I suppose all our venerated treasures are like this; they come with a side order of cringe. And yes, those are needless ‘vintage’ filters I stuck on the images.
2015 was a bad year for me. Clearly.
The FOTW, Edinburgh’s own frazzled little riviera.
Leith is classy and colourful.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 