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Ooh, quirky thought – what if she’s a ghost? Like in “Syndromes,” all dreamy and odd. “What’s love to a ghost?” she’d whisper, and I’d cackle, precious! Prolly not, but makes it fun, yesss. Exaggeratin’? Maybe! But streets got stories, mate – one prossie swore she bedded a prince. Bollocks, I says, but she winked, and I grinned.

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So, I’m on my way to the lab, and I decide to take a stroll down West High Street. It’s a nice day, sun’s out, birds are chirping, and I’m feeling good. But then, bam! I step in a puddle. Not just any puddle, but the biggest, muddiest one ever. My shoes are ruined! Like, seriously, who even makes puddles this big? I’m fuming, but whatever, I’ll just clean ‘em later.

Signs of progress for Police Scotland move to new Forfar HQ