The two worst things about living in Britain are The Darkness and the darkness. It was pitch black when I hopped out of the cot this morning. Another two weeks and daylight saving will end. The will to live will be lost and I'll resume being a grumpy bastard and peeing in the wrong loo.
It chucked down en route to the bus stop yesterday. Edinburgh rain always manages to find the most annoying angle of attack, it feels like needles being shoved into your eyes and nose.
The girl in front with the Oompa Loompa orange complexion was wearing sandals. I have been here 18 months and sooner or later I will snap and scream at one of these human honey-glazed hams "AND JUST WHERE DO YOU EXPECT US TO BELIEVE YOU GOT THAT TAN, DICKHEAD? CERTAINLY NOT THIS COUNTRY!"
It is much more practical to be the deathly shade of white that I have cleverly cultivated. When you're walking to work in the dark it's highly reflective, thus slightly reduces your chances of being mowed down by a Lothian Bus.
Och well. The darkness is a small price to pay to live in a town where you can buy televisions and darts in the same shop.