Poor hobbling Damian (he put his back out lifting my suitcase) made it into town today and while we were perching on a bench saw two fine upstanding men knock a little chinese student off her bike exchanging smug self-satisfied grins and while she was certainly in a no cycling area I thought that was a bit fucking harsh and no way would they have done that had she been a six-foot boatie or a grinning rugger bugger for example, bloody bullies, and all the time sat next to three MacDonalds-chomping spotty bleachblondeheads masticating vacantly while smoking their underage cigarettes still I'm sure I look like just as much of a freak to them if not more so after all I look a lot less native to this area and now I have a two hour meeting with my boss to bring me up to date with changes while I've been gone, and that and a broken site and a contributor who's not contributing in a useful way and more lost data and oh all the rest and can't I leave anything for ten fucking days without it falling over and Tivo chopped the tail off Kissing the Velvet which admittedly only dropped angst not sex (I think) but still, annoying, and that idiot stood anxiously blocking the doorway of The Body Shop as if afraid that stepping through the door would render him instantly homosexual, meaning I didn't make the crossing light, and oh, just about everyone sucks, except for the guy busking indy songs in Cornmarket, who does a bloody brilliant Wonderwall.