Golf..

Freudian from a certain perspective.

Cracking good night here in St Andrews. Just awaiting Musket Jnr in the bar and let celebrations commence.

Out of interest, I am half listening to a conversation between a few men about the referendum. (They are the other side of the bar to me as I sit on a barstool minding my business but listening really.) They too are taking the piss out of the "wacky and repugnant at the same time" (to quote one) nationalists. Interestingly, they seem to have Scottish accents.

Such a nice corner of The UK here, except for the fucking golfers.