The Perfect U.F.O.

1. The definition of lalochezia is?:
a) Using foul language to relieve stress.
b) Addiction to citrus flavoured vodka.
c) Inability to think before speaking.
d) Compulsion to take photographs of dead avians.

Guesses please (no googling or suchlike)...

2. Thing that was shouted at me by workmen:
"Without those boots I bet you're about 4 foot 5 tall!" Made me laugh, and that's all I ask from my random encounters with labourers (not encounter encounters, obviously. Because I don't do that, good girl that I am. That didn't need explaining, did it? Oh well.)

3. I miss you guys.
That is all.

4. Photos.
Silly version: just to stymie you, here's some photos that aren't of the trip.

Serious version: I'm having a few problems with my home computer, and it's taking me an age to resize the ones from the visit, so here's a bunch of graffiti and stuff to hopefully keep you occupied whilst I get the other photos done. Look! Shiny things!

Feet.


Edinburgh doesn't really have a large Polish population. Maybe they meant 'polish'.


A torn piece of cigarette paper that looked like a ghost...


I think this may be the 'leet speak' of graffiti.


Ummm... this was under the BDP a while back.


On the pedestal of one of the Cow Parade cows.


I just think this one's pretty.


SuperMoist.


No takers for such a suave chat-up line?


Punctuation is for conformos! Not for the children of the revolution!


I'll be back in black soon.