FRIDAY LAST, 12:10 AM: We were trudging home from the train station after seeing Demetri Martin at the Fringe. As is the usual fashion for a night out in this town, someone intoxicated clod had bought a box of hot chips then chucked them away after a few bites. These babies had been abandoned outside a hair salon. As an experiment, I took a picture of said chips with my wee cameraphone with intention of following up on their fate in the morning.
FRIDAY LAST, 7:00 AM: This time I was going to the train station. But definitely still trudging, since I was off to work. Unsurprisingly, the chips were gone! If you peer closely you can see the outlines of their greasy corpses on the footpath.
So who scranned them all? The answer was in the chip box, which now lay in the middle of the road.
SEAGULLS! Check out those beak holes. Don't ever try to come between a bird and its fried potatoes.