Transformation

From sensible shopping bike...


.. to mean & moody machine.



The transformation is complete. I love it. I even managed to fit my nice clock gadget to the handlebars.

Sciatica

This business of being a cripple is interesting. I've woken up this morning (4am, thanks for asking) with pain in my shin and the top of my foot. Yesterday those items were functioning fine and dandy. This follows on from the sore hip which came on me unexpectedly at a wedding last week. I'm told the pain will move around as the disc heals, so I suppose if it changes fast it must be healing fast, right?

And to all those people who keep smugly telling me "this will happen again", here's my answer - no it won't.

No drums yet, but expected this week. I've actually forgotten how to use the damn things but will enjoy re-learning it all.

Oman - now there's a thought.

Payback

I just heard on 6Music (which irritatingly enough is playing that effing stupid Gorillaz single 6 times a day, but that's another story) that a bloke has been jailed for one year for "endangering a vehicle". Apparently he tried to stop a helicopter taking off after - wait for it - it blew litter onto his Landrover.

I laughed a lot when I heard this, because I consider excessive car-proudness to be one of the most annoying aspects of the UK's culture, hence the title of this post. This is an extreme case, but I've seen many examples of British people over-reacting to damage, or even potential damage, to their cars. In my humble opinion those people need to give themselves a jolly good talking to. Here ends today's rant.

On the plus side, I take delivery of my new bike on Thursday, and if anyone scratches it I'll personally murder them and their future generations for a thousand years.

Whaaaat?

Pigeon Power

We came, we saw, we... lost by 5 points. A good evening soon to be repeated, hopefully. What we need is a team of about fifty people. Then we'd have all the answers.

In other news, this has been occupying my mind:
Decision to be made today, after consultation. The devil of it is, this deal makes all kinds of sense, including financial, but the appeal of a "shiny new thing" makes me hesitate. Have I been seduced by marketing? Should I keep fixing up the old bike no matter the cost?

Drums are now in Felixstowe, waiting to go on a wagon. I can't track them from here so I just have to wait for the knock on the door. Seems like years ago that I packed everything up in the Bangkok apartment.

Pesky Pigeons Night

Wednesday, and we're off to the pub. Could get messy, especially the fight to avoid being nominated driver.

Here's a jolly ditty that reminds me and Lynny of a happy afternoon sitting in a bar in Chatuchak market getting slowly pissed with Maureen:

Electric Gypsyland - Usti, Usti Baba (Senor Coconut Remix)

In other news, my freight is in the Channel:



Not long now. Soon I'll be making myself unpopular with my heavy foot action and poor sticking technique.

Work is improving - I've gone from having nothing to do to having too much to do, which is much better.

Later, I'm busy ok?

Korea? Nah.

It's off. Staying home for the good weather.

Oh, and the drums have been through the Straits os Gibraltar - next stop Felixstowe.


I've made a space for them in the study. Hang on, that's the room above Odette's bedroom and has a wooden floor. Hmmm, anyone got any rubber matting?

Sorry O.

Laters

Drums update

(Tip - Start up the music while you read - it's an electronic track, bit of a head-nodder)

LCD Soundsystem - Someone Great

Nearing Valencia. Hope they don't stay for the weekend...



In other news, wifey's back with tales of Irish weather we've all heard before. Now our house really begins to fill up, with the arrival on Saturday of Emma and Jodie, and attendant furniture/luggage. Looks like a weekend of logistics is approaching - "Logistics" being a euphemism for lugging piles of stuff up and down stairs. So many stairs, why did I buy this stack of shoe boxes? I swear, if our house was a bungalow it would cover an area roughly the size of Wembley stadium. Oy, my back twinges at the thought of all those suitcases and bags. At least the weather looks to be improving. Plenty of tea breaks on the roof, that's the secret.

While we're on lifting and stairs, are there any non-crippled readers in the Bolton area, willing to dismantle Wifey's installation? The doors (roughly 20 and very heavy) need to be carried down two flights of narrow stairs and loaded onto a trailer, then delivered to a reclamation yard in Macclesfield. I was originally ruled out of this lug-fest due to injury, but now that I've successfully negotiated a squash training session without any increase in back pain, I suppose I'm back in the frame. (see what I did there? No, thought not)

Still thinking about South Korea but the agent hasn't called me, so I guess that means I'm not wanted. Sniff.

Tour update: a proper ding-dong yesterday between the only two riders in with a shout, Bert and the Schleckster. How can two men be so much better than two hundred others? I wish I was young, I'd love to have a go. But back to yesterday, it was really gripping stuff, the battle the fans have been waiting for, ten kilometres of just the two of them up a huge hill called Le Tourmalet, Schleck doing his absolute utmost to shake off the Spaniard, while the rest of the the field were left far behind. In the end they crossed the line virtually together, meaning there are still 8 seconds between them with one individual time trial to go before Paris. Mister Wiggins has set himself the target of winning that time trial, and he might just do it, but the top two are so far ahead that the only real interest is the comparison between them. Ok enough Tour talk.

Still reading? Well done. Bye.