"They know I want to fuck them so bad."

Last night may have been one of the top five all time nights in Edinburgh, next to slow-dancing with Jacob Bloomfield to the Backstreet Boys at the Big Cheese on Ridhima's eighteenth birthday (preposition beatdown). Seriously though. It was all kinds of the most hilarious shit ever. Beltane festival, up on Calton hill, which quite a few of my comrades seem to, in retrospect, have found fairly anticlimactic. But I thought it was a blast. Highlights include: drunkenly standing in a long line by myself for a while, trying to find my friends in a dark sea of people, getting home somehow (See also: making pancakes while listening to Scarface, spilling a lot of things). Alright that's really all there is. I realize I've done an extremely poor job of documenting anything remotely significant. Just Chill; here are some still-lifes by Goya:

Still-Life: A Butcher's Counter, 1810-12

Three Salmon Steaks, 1808-12