In other news, since I forgot to post a well, post over the weekend I'll give you a short recap. I needed to head into town to get a new kilt pin and to buy my bowtie, so I headed out. Whilst searching diligently for my ideal kilt pin, photographed below, I happened upon another lovely piece of art. A Ferrari 458 Italia, white with yellow brake calipers, a 4.5L V8 engine, and a top speed of 202mph. Lovely machine. I took a look around it, looking at the clear window to the engine, looked inside, and took a photo, then as the mob of onlookers realized there was a Ferrari near them swarmed in, I left for another shop. To my surprise just as I left this shop the owner had come by. I had expected a cool older gentleman, but what was before me was, for lack of a better term, a complete and utter c**k. Dripping from head to toe with over-sized and over-polished gold jewelry, designer sunglasses, that tried very hard to make you completely aware they were designer sunglasses, and a Ferrari polo. Needless to say a line came to mind: "A man with priorities so out of whack doesn't deserve such a fine automobile. No no, apparently you don't understand. Ferris. He never drives it, he just rubs it with a diaper..." But I digress, and must stop before the entire script to that movie is transcribed. Anyway now that the owner was in the car, he offered a girl a ride down the street, oddly she accepted and he took off, with a glorious V8 symphony of sound echoing off the ancient city walls of the Royal Mile. He shortly turned around and brought her back. And I'm pretty sure he spent the next few hours trying to pick up other women with the same tactic. Apparently the impression I got from his clothes weren't completely off base from his whole personality. But I had better things to do than watch a creepy man in a fancy car try to pick up loose women. So I departed, bought my bow-tie and returned home.
|The Pin to match the Stewart Clan tartan|