A couple of hours ago, as I was walking back to the apartment from the wonderful Josh Widdicombe gig, a very hairy, familiar face hit the corner of my eye. It was only Marcus fucking Brigstocke with his, I presume, wife. And when I realised it was him I pulled a shocked face (as you would) and he saw me pulling it and just gave me this really creepy smile while walking past me sdkfhalskfj;sfjl;sa fucking love Edinburgh.