St Patrick's Square

Office day; at 3 minutes to 1 - e mail comes through.

I'm going for a pay day spray tan; you chumming me? Who said romance was dead?

So off to Newington we went, on bikes. On the way back, we stopped behind a bus and - bingo! Blip done.

Yellow paint on parking meter, undated, block capitals.

We got back to the office; outside were four guys (called Mo) armed with spray cans. The air was heavy with the sweet sweet smell of spray paint.

I approached one of them; asked if he knew who Cigs was (I have a blipbirthday coming and dear subscriber, it would be lovely for you all to get a little surprise present)

Brief chat revealed that they were over from the Weeg (although the one I spoke to was a native Edinburgher). So I figured word of mouth, get the message out on the street - I gave him a 30 second synopsis of Cigs / blip thing.

Then he wished me good luck, I said I'd come out and admire his handiwork later and disappeared back across the road and into work.

As I went, I saw his mate come over

"Who was that? What did he want?"

"Dunno, some fuckin' weirdo..."

So that'll be me telt, then!