When you google Mars Bar, photos of Marianne F turn up. Forty odd years on and the new fangled web and old but magical black and white news world have long and persistent memories.
I continue to lose weight thanks to my dogged refusal eat anymore Mars Bars or one a day as was the custom round these here parts. In a daydreamy state today I calculated that if all the Mars Bars I'd ever eaten were laid end to end they would stretch all the way from Newton to St Bridget's Kirk in Dalgety Bay (via the coastal path). After 56 years enough is therefore enough and I will no longer tread the long and winding chocolate path between here (or there) and the birthplace of Bridget the famous Fife midget. My diet is therefore safe for the time being as I cling to the wreckage of this inspiring and slightly worrying vision.
It was fairly late in the day and in life when I first discovered the hidden world of the Lego album cover cult. My infatuation lasted a few hours and then it faded away to not very much as I failed to find a Lego Sergeant Pepper or a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Prophets Sears & Sages the Angels of the Ages (in mono), better luck next time Lego people.
Meanwhile, the hidden codes of Taman Shud or Shad or Shod and the radioactive death haunt me like any good mystery should.