Horsepiss

I spent ages writing a post about how wonderful climbing is last night and Blogger appears to have dissolved it. It was a prose of such unrelenting beauty that to gaze upon it would heal lepers and cheer goths up. I'm starting to think I might have dreamed it, but still hold the vague hope that it ended up on some random blog somewhere - I like the idea of it nestling in between missives from some podgy canadian teeneager complaining about being misunderstood by all the losers at school.

Ah well, it was probably a load of quasi-emotional pish with a few long word thrown in to make me seem clever and that.

I'm oof to see no less than FOUR GIGS IN A ROW this week as part of the Triptych Festival, some of which I might even review on here if you're particulary unlucky.

All I need now are some really big chips.

Just back from a fantastic weekend in Dumfriesshire - a part of Scotland I've never really been to before. I must say I was blown away with how remote it seemed out there despite being only about an hour from Glasgow. It's a truly stunning area, with some superb coastline and some world-class mountain biking to boot. All y'all should check it out.

Anyhoo, we were staying in a friend's 'hut' by the sea (which was far more luxurious than that sounds) and decided to go for a stroll along the coast. Barely a soul there apart from a couple of dog walkers, which is just how I like my beaches. We wondered over to one of the wee islands that is normally submerged at high tide for a bit of a poke around.

Look at what we found


Apparently the locals are now trying to build the world's biggest deep-fat fryer.