Category: Life

There were only two good pictures of me from the Outlaw. On the bike and on a mission: and just about to cross the finish line: Every other picture looked like a sad, beaten, old duffer who was half dead . Which, to be fair, is 50% better than I was feeling. The other good picture is one I took today. It’s not easy trying to do a selfie with your bike. I’m quite made up with this this then:   The ‘Blade is as much art as function. Someone spent a lot of time and effort making it look that good. I’ve been weighing up the pros and cons of that exhaust endcan. It’s titanium so very light, but huge and too quiet. Apparently their are all sorts of sensors built in to the exhaust system though,  so you really mess with the fuelling and such if just swap the silencer for a more raucous one. Which means buying a full exhaust system (£££££££) and a power commander to sort out the fuelling (£300) and the garage to fit it, probably. It’s like Wendy rightly said after I spent all that money converting my W650 into a cafe racer, “buy the bike you want.” I wanted this because it was an unmolested, original bike. It will far exceed my ability as it is in standard form, I’m not going to spend a grand or so just to make it sound a bit fruitier. One thing about it I will be changing is the seat. It’s rock hard.There’s no rush for that though, I doubt I’ll be doing many more miles this year ‘(it’s not seeing salt). But maybe next year, comfy seat, road trip? A quip nip to Germany? I noticed the forks were set slightly differently so I looked it up today and reset them back to standard, then one turn extra to stiffen them up. Also tightened the chain.   The other thing I’m doing now is starting training for a sub 3 hour marathon.  I spent ages yesterday working out the amount of weeks until the race, the end distance, then working back in a steady and sustainable fashion to my starting point. I drew up a chart of date, distance, weeks to go. If I can stick to the chart I can do it. I went for my first run since the tri today. It was hard and humid. My target time is 6.45m/m. I started off slow to avoid tendon injury, 8.46, 8.27, then tried a fast mile. 7.42. Total disaster. I thought I’d lost my fast mojo.  I did another few slow miles then tried again. As soon as my watch beeped for the mile I charged off. It was beastly hard but I kept going. Finished that mile in 6.42! Yay! It’s back on! Then slogged home for 2 miles. It nearly killed me, but that’s the first step on the plan done. Then I looked at the plan “Week 1, run […]

Quick update. First off, my dream job at the Co-Op. It turned into a nightmare. The hours are great, the money was great, they treated you great, but all the stores were on the very edge of what is physically possible. Previously my satnav would say “turn left” and I’d look into a tiny back street, lined with cars, and think “jog on” and find the proper way into my drop. At the Co-Op that is the proper way. I had to go down a street stopping and folding car wing mirrors in all the way down as it was the only way I could fit. I was a nervous wreck. It got too much and I quit. *sigh* That was on a Saturday, I signed up with an agency for a postal driver job on the Monday. They looked at my history, Stobarts, would you work there again? Absolutely not. Next? Meh. Bookers? What? I joined 3 agencies earlier in the year trying to get back in there. Not a sniff. That is the best job I’ve had, but I’d kind of given up on it, as I thought they must have stopped using agency. Here it was, serendipitously being offered! I said I’d love to go back. Said I was available from Wednesday. They ‘phoned me that night, saying they had a shift at Bookers Tuesday, did I want it? For Bookers, yes. That was that. 5 days for the last 3 weeks. They also do Herpes, so I’m thinking I may have dropped in perfect here. If there are days when Bookers don’t need me I can do a shift at Herpes. This means I can afford to wait it out until they finally give in and take me on. Then it’s megabucks. £40+K.  For a piss easy job, no pressure, no deadlines, great attitude towards driver error. My first or second shift back there they sent me to Birkenhead. It’s tight as buggery. You have to drive into the yard, right up to the wall, spin it around on full lock (which kicks the back end out and a few drivers have taken out the fence it’s so tight) then go back out and blindside in around a corner. After the Co-Op it was a walk in the park. But in screwing it tight around one of the leads from the truck to the trailer must have snagged and it ripped out. I ‘phoned it in. They called me a dick, had a replacement sent out, not a word said when I got back. No forms to fill in, no investigation. Shit happens, don’t do it again. Now I take my lines off before I go into the yard. Sorted. The only thing with this job, as with every other driving job (not Co-Op) is you don’t know your start or finish times day to day.   I’m still battling with the bike. I rebuilt the engine (nearly bust my back humping the damned thing back […]

I’ve properly started my new job now. I had 7 days of training first. I had a 2 hours driving assessment to start with. Then I started the training 7 days. I was supposed to do a day’s classroom, a day out with a driver (just watching) a day’s classroom then a whole day out actually doing the job with an assessor watching me. That was the big stress day. Then a day out with another driver watching me, then two days out with another new starter, to watch each other. I was in an artic the whole time, and I’m quickly getting used to the manual gearbox so it wasn’t too bad. I was worried on my assessment day but I passed. The next day, when I thought I could relax there mustn’t have been any spare drivers ‘cos they sent me out with another assessor! D’oh! I got through that, did my two days (one driving, one observing) with the other new driver and started my shifts on Thursday. I had an easy start, an artic with an auto gearbox, full size trailer and one drop. Bread and butter to me. Dropped it off, back with 2½ hours to spare, sat in the canteen until home time! The second day was when it got a bit worse. They gave me a rigid. Only a dinky little 18 tonner but buggered if I could remember how to drive one. Any fool can drive one forwards, but I’ve completely forgotten what room you need to turn one around, and I was bollocksed as soon as I had to reverse. I’ve five years of experience with artics. For that you pull over near to where you want to reverse into, then screw the cab around which pivots the trailer over the back wheels, get it pointing in the right direction then straighten up. I was lining the truck up in the wrong place to start, expecting it to turn when it wouldn’t, and turning the wheel the wrong way be reflex. It was a nightmare. On Sunday they sent me out in a 26 tonne rigid. These are bastards for two reasons; the rear wheels are a good 6-8 feet in from the end of the box, so they have a vicious swing, and they have a semi-auto clutch. You rev it and let the clutch out and it cuts your revs and slowly lets the clutch engage. I stalled it the first time. It’s a nightmare, especially on hill starts as you can’t over rev to put some power into it. Anyway, I was coping with the overswing and I was getting on top of the fecking stupid clutch, but the reverse was still a nightmare. The main trouble with this job, is Co-Op shops are little convenience stores, parked in the middle of housing estates and such. So virtually every drop is an absolute nightmare to get to. Here’s one in Manchester: As you can see there is enough […]

Pig-shagger Dave has done it. Years back I said, with chilling prescience, of the EU referendum: “It’ll never happen. Thick people would vote out. They’ll never allow it.” So wrong.  Along came Dave. I think he set the EU ref as a trap for the next government, never thinking it would be his. Others have said it was an attempt to woo back all the racist votes leaking to UKIP. Either way it was supposed to be a sop, a token. We were never supposed to leave. Well done Dave, you have finally ensured the history books don’t list “shagging a dead pig’s head”, as your most notorious deed. The Tories and the right wing press have been drip feeding the lies for years. Foreigners on benefits are taking your jobs, (a good trick to start with) they are all Muslim terrorist paedo rapists. No wonder Johnny Knee-jerk abandoned all reason and voted out of fear. Fucking good job. They were promised £350 million a week of EU money would go into hospitals instead. That immigration would be stopped. That the ‘experts’, every fucking single one of them, were EU stooges paid to promote Project Fear. Someone summed it up nicely on Twitter: It’s 11.15 AM and so far… 1, Nigel Farage starts the morning by retracting the £350 million per week to the NHS claim. 2, Daniel Hannan the retract the claim  that leaving the EU will reduce immigration 3, £100 billion already wiped off the pensions, ISAs etc, invested in the FTSE. 4, The pound suffers the largest currency depreciation of any currency ever. 5, The Prime Minister resigns without mapping out a plan for implementing the results of the referendum.   The pound is now worth less than the Euro. Devalued by 11%. The UK is now no longer the fifth richest country in the world. Project Fear was wildly optimistic.   Worse than all of this, it’s given a mandate to the far right. The neo-nazi Britain First (DON’T SHARE THEIR SHITE ON FACEBOOK!) murdered a young woman MP who was for remain. UKIP/ Britain First/ Brexiters think they’ve won the argument. They won the EU ref, the trouble is, we were voting to stay in the EU, they were voting for “send them back”.  Already reports of Muslims being harassed and people shouting “send them back!” We have sacked Cameron and brought in an even further right wing government, backed by neo-nazis. Also, this signals the end of the Union. All the Scottish voted to stay in. And the Irish. This leaves England calling for action neither of them want, voted for, or will support. The split seems inevitable now.   My final straw, at which I’m desperately clutching, is this is not a binding decision. Parliament has to approve it, and Boris didn’t want out either. He spoke at length about it in the past. Now he has cleared Cameron out of office hopefully he will find an excuse to call a second referendum. […]

Just remember my favourite bit from an Alan Moore comic, Rorschach explaining how he became Rorschach to the shrink. He’d found a house of a kidnapper who’d murdered a little girl. Handcuffed him then set the house on fire. “Stood in street. Watched it burn. Imagined limbless felt torsos inside; breasts blackening; bellies smouldering, bursting into flame one by one. Watched for an hour. Nobody got out. Stood in firelight, sweltering, blood stain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night. Looked at sky through smoke, heavy with human fat and god was not there. The cold suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion, bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else. Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world in not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It in not god who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turnings it’s illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world. Was Rorschach.”