It’s been weeks since this page was updated and with the revolving door bike purchasing scheme in operation at Leigh central, this seemed an opportune time to update it.

I was considering changing the site skin as well but there was some quite dirty CSS jiggery pokery to make this one work and I’ve absolutely no idea what I changed. Basically random size and pixel values inserted anywhere that looked promising. On second thoughts I’d have to be seriously starved of entertainment to even consider searching for a new one.

Talking of entertainment, I had a hundred quids worth of non-entertainment yesterday, fifty of which was spent watching the mighty Sheffield United crushed by Chequebook Chelsea. Not that I’m bitter in any way about it. Then a few rounds of drinks were required to deal with the embarrassment of being stuffed by the Welsh in the Rugby. I left the boys around 7pm as they were considering hunting down a curry as the way I was feeling, death by spicy popodom was a serious possibility.

Instead I meandered, drunk, through the vast confusion of the tube system before setting fire to my face by stupidly biting into a station pasty that had been heated in a jet engine.

I can’t decide whether to attempt to fix the brakes on my bike for about the tenth time or rush headlong into some pointless DIY that’ll end in a desperate call to a plummer.

The world is my lobster today.

Yep, this blog is exactly a year old. That’s quite an achievement since it was started with no real idea, style or substance and has continued in the same vein since.

But I can’t be bothered to write a proper anniversary post. Instead I’ve gone for the lazy option of picking my favourites from the last year. Yes, I know that’s rather conceited and no, I don’t really care 🙂

Chicksands
Chip’n’Ping:
When Bromptons attack:
Street Riding:
24:
Washing machine crisis:
A brush with the floor:
Bristol Bikefest:
Riding when drunk:
Hangovers:
Hospital Diaries: 1,2,3 and 4
Darts:
Lifts:
Degrees:
Bingo Night:
Being Five:
Toilet Humour:
Five things about commuting:

I’m not saying they’re any good, I’m just saying they float on the top of the racid collection of other scribblings.

Although if I were slanting towards Political Correctness, it’d be all Happy Winterval or Merry Sacrifice Your Goat with our best wishes. But I’m refusing to succumb to the bah humbug curmudgeon who’ll perfectly identify with my occasional inner Daily Mail reader.

It is the season to be jolly or in my case, pissed. The only thing Santa needs to bring me to make me happy this Christmas is a new liver. If he can leave the hangover in his sack, I’ll even forgive him the delivery of the in-laws after Christmas. I’m shying away from the itinerary but the kids gleefully tell me the entire related-by-marriage clan will descend on the 27^th. I’ll adopt my normal pleasant smile while mainlining whatever is close to hand – be that beer, gin or the cooking brandy.

Assuming I don’t let myself down, let my family down, etc during that happy period, then two relation free days await on the trails of my choice. Looking at the long range weather forecast that’ll be somewhere close to a good pub serving three square meals a day.

Another rather less portentous anniversary is almost upon us. The hedgehog has been pickled for almost a year and you’ll be under-whelmed to hear that the backlog of drivel shows no sign of abating for 2007. With that also stamping my passport to official middle age, I expect the angst to be cranked up to a Spinal Tap 11. I can make no such promises for grammar or punctuation.

So whatever you’re doing, whoever you’re doing it to and whatever you’re doing it with, I’ll bid you happy holidays. It’s unlikely I’ll be in a fit state to type between now and the horror of going back to work.

But don’t worry, come January, I’ll make up for it.

I have an uber rant locked and loaded to fire at Chiltern Profits Railways which ratchets my angst up to a head exploding Defcon 2. Defcon 1 would see me laying about myself with a handy member of staff whilst eating the ticket barrier. so I’m hoping never to get there however hard they push.

And man they are pushing hard after the cleaner unplugged their state of the art IT system resulting in them losing zero revenue and a couple of hundred of us losing about an hour of our day, queuing behind a very stupid man armed with a belligerent attitude and a blunt pencil. That was us with the attitude and him with the pencil.

And behind that an ode to faffing, some gory stories you’ve probably already seen in a snake bites crocodile kind of scenario, another epic on a wind based theme and some scrawl I wrote on the train while drunk that seemed amusing at the time.

But you’ll have to wait. Into my traditional stable work orbit have been tossed asteroids and comets creating an unplanned effect we astrophysicists call “wobbly”. Until I can de-wobble my life or – in preference – harm those whose idea of a deadline is one they dream up in the bath, then it’s all going to be a bit quiet.

I just hope the ranting release valve gets hit before the Snailway company encompass all things incompetent one more time. They will be violence or at least heavy sarcasm towards those responsible.

The problem with democracy is that it’s bloody rubbish. But it’s better than everything else that has been tried. Churchill I think, a man with a quote for every occasion, verbosity to the point of pompousness and a the terrifying focus of the true alcoholic. I like to think of old Winny as a bit of a role model.

Anyway with two of my readers whinging over a Cameron-esque style over substance, and with the third reader (my Mum) being on holiday, democracy shall rule. But just this once, don’t get any ideas that tactics of abuse and flattery will in any way improve content, sentence formation or maddening randomism. They’re kind of hard wired in and anyway if we’re going to conduct a one-man, one-vote kind of egalitarianism, I am the Man and I’m having the Vote.

This is Misty. Get used to her, she’s going to be around for a while as even I have better things to do than poke around the dusty spaces of WordPress themes. See the hedgehog on the right? Hacked my own PHP code to get that in, I just hope someone is bloody grateful.

Right, if it’s ok with you, I’ll get back to rattling on with impotent angst, mendacious asides and curious homage’s to root vegetables.

UPDATE 2: Sidebar fixed in IE 6.0. May I just add what a useless sodding browser IE is and if it still doesn’t work, consider this the perfect trigger to upgrade to Firefox or something that does.

This post modern electronic printing press on which my loquacious verbiage resides is really rather clever. Sadly, I’m not, so will be unable to take advantage of a myriad of options which seem to include “for world peace, click here”. However, downloading new ‘themes’ is within my technical remit hence the change.

I was perturbed that around a thousand themes were available. It’s a bad enough vanity stealing time from others to read your book without designing the cover as well. Anyway, I’d like to say a complex selection procedure was undertaken combining a conceptual seasonal theme fused with earthiness and a nod to the scarcity of planetary resources.

It wasn’t. I like blue.

Being a somewhat one trick pony around the gubbins of this site, I now have license to install about a theme a day until one speaks to me or someone else speaks to me in a “stop fucking about will you” kind of way. I hope I’m through my orange period when that happens.

… Oh Canada. Lovely place, fantastic people (well the half that don’t count the French as their true lineage anyway), clean cities and awesome mountains. But that National Anthem – frankly, it’s rubbish. Still, it could have been so much worse, our major supplier could have been in the US and that’s not a trip from hell, it’s a trip to hell. Four hours in customs, full rubber glove body search and a whole bunch of attitude that forgets we were the victims too.

Three days of meetings await, with non optional waffles, possibly a couple of small beers and a bit of late sightseeing in the rather fetching city of concrete that is Ottawa. I was delighted to learn that the Canal system was not only built by British Victorian engineers but it’s express purpose was to shield the city from hostile American takeovers. The hotel we stay in resembles some kind of Disneyworld monstrosity housing fake gables, turrets and the odd crenulated gargoyle. But any country that has the beaver as a national emblem gets my vote every time. I never tire of endorsing those proud Canadians sporting their double entendre’d aquatic rat with a simple “Nice Beaver“.

Anyway enough of this, the hedgehog shall remain unpickled until the end of the week unless time allows for an entry cataloguing the horror of a four puncture commute. I may need a couple of stiff drinks first, I honestly thought that a tree in Hyde Park was going to be my bed for the night.

But I’ve written loads lately so read that nonsense, it swells my shallow ego no end to see the hit counts 🙂

.. then you have time to read

http://randomreality.blogware.com/blog/Ambulance.

Interesting, amusing, occasionally barbed and a damn fine all round read.

All the things this blog isn’t but hey ho, it keeps me off the streets.

The knee of extreme soreness will be teamed with the liver of serial abuse for a five day trip to the wilds of Southern Scotland. Riding is likely to be optional whereas drinking isn’t – however I shall be out there having it medium unless inclement weather dictates a shuffle to the nearest snug with a good book and better medical excuse.

I’m taking an electronic copy of the Scottish Venacular Dictionary which is rather more amusing that it is work safe. Consider yourself warned.

The hedgehog shall lie idle and unstuffed which is probably a relief for everyone but come Monday tales of my daring riding, balletic bike control and all round muscular athleticsm shall once again stain guiless electrons with outrages fabrication.

Failing that, I’ll post some pictures but since two cameras have coincidentally exploded while in my hands, I’ve been banned from taking the new one. And I shall be so far behind my friends due to a complete lack of fitness masked by a whole load of bacon sandwiches and lager, expect panaramic shots of deserted trails and painful looking climbs.

Of all the lovely places in Scotland we shall be visiting, I shall be making strenuous efforts not to include Dumfries A&E.