Tag Archives: Snaps
Leith Street – forever under construction.
It’s at the stage now where I can’t remember this roundabout or whatever it is not being an absolute shambles. I don’t know a soul who possesses any notion of what work is being done or why.
It’s just … there. A big fucking mess for all eternity.
A foggy Meadowbank in all its autumn splendour.
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.
Edinburgh lockdown – week 34. This will never end.
I have changed the slideshow setting. For a week.
I aped the Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan album cover on a Saturday afternoon spent creeping about the Meadows.
Bob Dylan. Not my kind of music. I go for the atmospherics and the bangin’ beats; take me back to the Sensation White Amsterdam era of alcopops and Ajax tops.
I have seen the movie Vanilla Sky (2001) 16 times, though. I know every single facet about the feature and WHY it is incredible yet folk still slate it. Some plebs just hate Tom Cruise; I think he is the best. He puts his all into everything and clearly loves his life. He also gets stick for the Scientology thing, as if every other religion isn’t insane.
Anyway, an album cover from something from Bob Dylan features in the film. I have never listened to the album and never will but it’s a belter of a photo. I feel about Bob Dylan as some do Tom Cruise.
Rome memories.
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.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 