whipcrackawaywhipcrackaway whipcrackawaaaaay

As well as urban surfers Edinburgh has recently acquired an urban fisherman who seems to think it appropriate to practise his combination casting/smoking technique in Charlotte Square of a sunny lunchtime. I passed him a few weeks back but didn't have the right lens on. This wasn't much better but it was that or a wall, albeit a nice and sunny one which was shrugging off its wound with aplomb. I wonder if he's attempting to perfect his technique by aiming at specific clovers or daisies. Maybe he likes a little exercise at lunchtime but nothing particularly strenuous or perhaps he's just an assassin employed by a foreign government to stab people with a tiny poisoned lure so that their autopsy indicates death by nowt more than a particularly nasty form of WMB.

Maybe he's heard a rumour that after they finish buggering up St. Andrew's Square (probably removing the mysterious number-posts in the process) they're going to install a fish-pond in Charlotte Square to give all the rich people something to watch sparkling out of their expensive windows when the antics of their servants bore them.

Actually he could be training for a limited-audience-appeal Fringe show where he uses the fishing line to whisk the cigarette from his mouth then steal spectacles from members of the audience.