Looking Up

I do like this building: especially its dragon-type-thing bits.

When you're wandering about Leith, there's a lot of stuff worth looking upwards for - which might explain why most of the pedestrians walk round as if they want to be knocked down.

Changing the subject completely, this is a very long sentence, don't you think? Worth a read, though:

"Every year it's the same thing: a 200-year-old countess you've never heard of, who closely resembles a Cruella De Vil mannequin assembled entirely from heavily wrinkled scrotal tissue that's been soaked in tea for the past eight decades, attempts to draw attention away from her sagging neck - a droopy curtain of skin that hangs so low she has to repeatedly kick it out of her path as she crosses the royal compound - by balancing the millinery equivalent of Bilbao's Guggenheim museum on her head, and winds up forming the centrepiece of a light-hearted photomontage in the centre of whatever newspaper you happen to be reading that day, accompanied by a picture of Princess Eugenie in a headdress, and some milky underfed heiress with the physique of a violin-playing mantis, wearing nothing but a diamante cornflake on each nipple and a hat made out of second-hand dentures or something equally avant-garde."

A fine take on Royal Ascot by this funny ranty bloke. It was H who first mentioned him to me, but I like to pretend I've been into his stuff for years.