Another August draws to a close. The Festival is almost over and the traders and performers are packing up and leaving Edinburgh for wherever it was that they came from.
And good riddance to 'em.
No more will the people of Edinburgh be forced to stand in queues behind luvvied-up actors who think that we should all bow and scrape at their feet just because they've spent the last three weeks being pampered by TV executives who think that they are the funniest person to have graced a stage since the dawn of time.
And thank fuck for that. Even I, an easy going type of person, was close to losing it on occasion. But, I fought the urge and didn't once yell "Will you please just order what you want and get the fuck out the queue before I rip out your heart and eat it!"
Though the temptation to do so was never far away...
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