Balmy

On By AlexIn Other stuff15 Comments

Literally. Powered by pasties and post work beers, I launched a one man assault on the local wildlife, rooted rigid as it was in the transfixing beam of my monster bike light. But even wearing the Beer Jacket over shorts and a t-shirt, it’s obvious that something’s gone astray with the weather.

It really shouldn’t be this warm in Mid October. The lawn is both exceptionally lush and about four feet high. I can’t mow it because it’s retaining sufficient moisture to power a small waterwheel. Instead I shall invest in a goat which may offer some other advantages come the long, cold winter nights.

Rather than complete any of the half written (yes it’s true, there are articles in a worst grammatical state than those already posted) entries today, I’d better show some vocational backbone and complete a motivatingly crushing lists of tasks which I naively accepted as mine.

The reason? It’s my appraisal tomorrow and my boss reads this blog, so I’m hoping that a sudden outpouring of completed actions can fool him into thinking this is my normal output.

Ah, I’ve just seen the flaw in that plan. Never mind, amuse yourself if you will with the word of the day; that word is “Whelk” there’s a good reason but I’ll not bore you with it. Any whelk related comments, or better still, Whelk dialogue shall go far in cheering up an otherwise miserable day.

Let me start you off:

Crab walks past a Whelk
“Which way to the sea” Crab asks
“That Way–>” says Whelk
“Thanks” says crab
“You’re Whelkome” responds Whelk.

100{45ac9c3234d371044e23e276755ef3a4dde8f1068375defba7d385ca3cd4deb2} of truth. Ask any Whelk-lover.

Oh and Appraisals; any useful or constructive ideas on how to approach one? Through the office door is a sound start but not having been graded/appraised/humiliated for about 10 years, I’m not sure what to expect.

Will there be cakes do you think?

Is it true that wearing a chicken suit enhances the whole experience? This is the kind of stuff I think I should know.

Cycle Show – Part ii

On By AlexIn BikesLeave a comment

In a doomed attempt to emulate those string and wire boys of earlier, a fun boy three of riders headed into deepest London for a street ride. We’d feasted on Shoreditch’s finest Chinese take-away, pontificated widely on appropriate tyre pressures and finally ran out of excuses to engage arse-gear.

After an early doors puncture, the vague yet plausible threat of molestation by roaming gangs and considerable performance anxiety brought on by thousands of pissed Londoners, a team decision mandated that we’d be having it small going on infinitesimal.

Still this hardly detracted from the fun of a two wheeled preamble through a balmy London evening. As a city of lights, it’s really properly impressive with major landmarks illuminating a night sky already brightened by a fat, full moon. Light spilled from every bar, streaks of significant wattage bounced off a clear sky whenever we passed something famous, but the pavements were dark and the pedestrians programmed random.

Wierd pavement, odd exposure Looks sandy Small wall, large photoshop

In search of something new, we inevitably paid return visits to old favourites; the ˜architected for MTB’ steps down to the millennium bridge, a dart around the South Bank and some barely defined concrete madness at the Tate Modern. We rode a few walls and sized up many more. But the press of a Saturday night crowd, interspersed with what felt like the entire Met, left us riding more but cleaning less.

Cheeky riding on the Mil Bridge A ghostly Brad Properly bridgey

After a final incident where about a hundred sozzled café dwellers were screaming for a concrete based injury, we cried enough and retired pubwards.

Only two downsides marred a fantastic day. Firstly Brad chose to emboss a perfect mirror of his DMR V12 pedal on my car door. Reasons currently unknown although brain fade and excessive Nurofen are high on the judging list.

Secondly, I’ve been unable to reconcile the quandary that is to retain a loving, long term and, most importantly, local relationship with my testicles against the chances of smuggling in a new frame under the cover of darkness.

I’ve been testing the ground under the barn and believe there’s potential for a BatCave arrangement. Pass me the shovel.

Cycle Show – Part i

On By AlexIn Bikes3 Comments

A long day of driving, walking and riding awaited with the London Cycle Show smack bang in the middle of it. I was raring to stop and full of beans only in that my digestive system rumbled ominously with the synthetic aftermath of a couple of bucketfuls of Heinz’s finest. That’d be the four pints of Whympler’s Old Peculiar then, which saved me the price of last nights dinner at the cost of an eye blurring hangover.

London traffic and my refusal to believe the SatNav “ e.g. I drove past here once in 1975 and it’s definitely up that street there even if it’s now bricked off “ made us late and the human millipede queue for tickets added frustration and more delay. Still, this did provide ample time to be essentially robbed, with a nice smile, at recognisable food outlets with unrecognisable prices. Just sign over the deeds to your house and sell a single child into white slavery and you can enjoy this stale, lamp hardened, baguette“. And I use to think only indirect taxation was licensed theft.

However, the event itself was great, acres of unattainable bling backed up by a trials show. Watching these small boys leap large gaps and landing perfectly on tyre width moist logs, was in no way spoiled by the knowledge that string and wires cunningly fabricate this illusion

First up, a spot of clique but entirely deserved back patting to Cy Turner “ he of Cotic bike design fame. Two new frames join the existing Soul and Roadrat, of which I own and rather enjoy both, an amped up hardcore brother for the Soul and a singlespeed bike so simple, he’s named it, er, Simple.

Simple SinglespeedB-FE. Hardcore SoulThe back end so to speak

Continue reading “Cycle Show – Part i” →

A beer? Do you want a breast with that?

On By AlexIn Other stuff, Pretentious nonsenseLeave a comment

Titty Bars. Gentlemen’s clubs. Pole Dancing Emporiums. Call them what you will but, resident in every world capital, they harvest big bucks from a hardcore of men for whom the Internet is just a bit tame.

There’s a shared deceit around attendance motivation. It’s just a bit of fun“, The girls get paid well, what’s the problem�? and it’s no worse than downloading porn off the Internet“. Maybe, maybe not.

Prudish though this sounds, I really struggle with these places. On entry into the dim portal of watered down drinks and excited sweaty bodies, I turn instantly gay. The girls are, understandably as it’s a buyers’ market, incredibly beautiful, their tanned and lithe torsos’ standing on legs that finish somewhere close to their armpits. They’re all revealing outfits and seductive smiles at the start of a dance, with those outfits lasting all the time it takes for some guy to throw a twenty onto the stage. The smiles stay though, they are the money capacitor “ turn up the wattage and watch the cash flow in.

My problem with such places isn’t really that it’s degrading for both sexes, slightly seedy or horribly contrived. It’s the denial of a middle aged bloke rolling in cash and fat, truly believing that this Goddess of Beauty actually finds him witty and attractive. You just want to shout it’s a business transaction mate, flash the cash or she’ll be off to leech the next tragic victim“.

I sit and watch and feel like a fraud. When some vision of sex floats up and offers a private dance, you only need to nod faintly before the sales spiel clicks smoothly in and the rules of the game are explained. Twenty Dollars but no touching, kissing or knocking one out in front of me. Get frisky and the twenty stone hunk of bored beef in the corner will rip off your head and piss down the whole. I’m paraphrasing a little but the sense of the transaction should come across.

I never go. Others do and return with obvious enjoyment plastered across flushed faces. Dance follows dance, and soon it’s just Big Gay Al necking watery beer and wondering when excuses can deliver a hasty exit. The cold night air is fresh enough to wash away the stink of cigarettes and half formed sexual acts. It’s a bloody relief and again I tell myself this is absolutely the last time. Until the next time, anyway.

Okay I’m a prude. Because I can’t really enjoy the show, it seems apposite to preach a pious sermon instead. In reality, these places don’t do any harm, they’re serving a need of sorts and even offer up some amusing connotations such as the Businessman’s Lunch�?. What’s that then? Naked women starter, breast of inner thigh to follow and sweet nothings to finish“. But still a lingering sense of doubt remains.

Whereas obviously downloading porn off T’Internet and giving the old fella a vigorous rub in your own home is fine. Allegedly, not that you’d fine me doing treading the subtle line between public and private masturbation.

Not with Carol reading this blog anyway.

It’s all our own fault

On By AlexIn Other stuff, Pretentious nonsense5 Comments

Last year, some madman fretted that our children may be physically blighted or mentally scarred through the violent exchange of stringy conkers. This week a council is cordoning off a copse of malignant trees and their fruity ammunition. Last month, we had Mad Ken sound biting policy initiatives to license plate cycles and imprison non bell ringers. How much of this is feeding a slow news day and how much is rampant political posturing is hard to say. But it’s clearly silly and yet there is something a little darker emerging.

Firstly, however, anything like this should be wrapped in neon-signed handle with extreme care�? warning as it’s essentially the Daily Flail gone global. We’re always looking for politically correct gibberish to first ridicule and then shape as a stick to beat the hand wringing, lentil eaters who defend such nonsense. For every ˜Pear Tree Could Be a Killer” and Conkers “ the new Weapons Of Mass Destruction” screaming taglines are mitigating scenarios where badly supervised kids die in rivers and un-maintained tracks derail trains.

A sense of perspective should act as a prism to divine the lay lines of truth buried under the headline selling static. But there is no doubt that, as a society, we’re dealing with far more restrictive regulation reinforcing a culture of personal irresponsibility. No one is to blame, so everyone is to blame. It’s hard to see how this can work both ways, either we learn to take responsibility for our actions and those in our care, or we submit meekly to a state who feels they must do it for us, however crassly.

Less than a lifespan ago, kids of 19 and 20 were battling for their lives and the freedom of all civilisation over the skies of Southern Britain. Since those times, successive governments, of all colours, have stealthily eroded our ability to take our own chances and live or die by the consequences. If those young men had the attitude of a similar sample today, I wonder would they have risked anything to save everything.

It’s probably a specious argument, but whole generations will soon be lost to the power of individual choice if we aren’t allowed to walk the line between social responsibility and freedom of the non mandated option. We’re not sheep, there is more than one path to take, many sides to an argument, infinite outlets for expression. More baring of teeth and less toothless baa-ing would be an alternate approach.

Do you know how many Health and Safely officers there are in France? None, that’s right, if you want to dice with death under a swollen pear tree, c’est la vie. We could do much worse than adopt such a carefree attitude.

God, I’m turning into my Dad.

It™s all gone dark “ Part iii.

On By AlexIn Other stuffLeave a comment

Titles galore vied for pride of place in the post line “ Electric Dreams, Flatline and the ante post favourite f**${45ac9c3234d371044e23e276755ef3a4dde8f1068375defba7d385ca3cd4deb2}&{45ac9c3234d371044e23e276755ef3a4dde8f1068375defba7d385ca3cd4deb2} E*${45ac9c3234d371044e23e276755ef3a4dde8f1068375defba7d385ca3cd4deb2}&£$£ which was just pipped at the line in a close race.

Southern Electric are mucking about with wet powestring outside the house and getting frisky with some new fangled electric cabling. Well not Southern Electric per se as they’ve subcontracted the work to EDF energy, who’ve been properly French and bribed some Catholics from the UK’s most western isle to do the actual work.

It’s not job creation though, the power here is hamster strength at best and when a new neighbour moves in, we greet them with candles and torches. Many times we’ve been plunged into unexpected darkness resulting in Ow! Who the fuck put that table there?” lunges for alternate light sources.

So at 9am this morning, some hard hatted fella pulled the big red switch, watched by three other blokes in this hi-viz quartet, and it all went dark. This choreography has continued through the day with the youngest sparky being dispatched up and down a line of telegraph poles like a amphetamine spiked squirrel, while his mates lounge at poles end smoking and pointing in a vaguely managerial fashion.

Pole 2 A man up a pole, today.

Continue reading “It™s all gone dark “ Part iii.” →

Feel free to adjust your sets

On By AlexIn Site Stuff16 Comments

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.

Did someone say cake?

On By AlexIn Other stuff2 Comments

There’s a worrying backpressure in my head as an ever increasing nonsense of articles serially stack up, impatiently waiting for their electronic passport to the blogsphere. A ruthless first in-first-out approach has so far served me well. But my blog-time-slice today has rejected a serious discourse on the heath and safety realities of pear trees, once a non maskable interrupt delivered this queue jumping injustice.

I completed a piece of work, so tedious it almost triggered a career change and retraining as a goat fimbler, under the strict and binding understanding that my reward would be a chocolate of sufficient calories to power a small army.

But the days of a deal being done on a firm manly handshake and look in the other fellows eye are lomg gone; I received instead an e-mail with this picture inside:

Picture2.jpgThe chocolate of complete deception

While it ticks all the boxes in terms of mixed with cow juice and a total absence of praline, it is somewhat let down by its’ electron only form. I’m sure you’ll agree that my grievance is well founded; rather than tucking into a vision of chocolately loveliness, I’m left with nothing more than an Inbox based facsimile. This episode of cruelty by a colleague, who I’d naively treated as a friend until this blatent instance of non delivery, has left me shocked and stunned

Also, even as an image it lacks something. Kind of stumpy and imprisoned in frilliness. Not really a boys chocolate which should be crafted in the shape of a motorbike, and of a similar scale.

You see, I told you it was important.

Anway to make the point, I’ve eaten the monitor. Kind of glassy with a hint of plastic but a robust capacitor and a stomach pump finish has almost made up for my intense disappointment.

I’ll not name and shame the scandalous individual but you know who you are DON’T YOU SARAH.

It’s all got dark. Part ii

On By AlexIn Other stuff2 Comments

Cold and Dark have stormed the seasons through unwanted planetary revolution. Rain and wind will inevitably follow and lock out the light for the next six months. Joy. A slicing headwind cut through the thin summer clothing defences this morning, so I arrived at the station shivery and little miserable.

Chiltern Railways responded by slipping in their Fall Timetable which grants them an extra hour or so in case there is a leaf on the line. More than one leaf, and the whole shebang gets cancelled for a couple of days.

Bad Karma is generally an ASBO threesome, so it was hardly a surprise that the two tiny pleasures of the train journey were cruelly denied me. It was only when firmly seated, with the pinging of the closing doors for company, did I realise my freshly poured but lamentably untested coffee and pristine newspaper were on the wrong side of the window.

Having indulged in a bit of comedy stretching, these carefully placed mandatory train companions were pitilessly abandoned as the early arriving train caught me grunting away at a tight hamstring. I waved them a sad goodbye as the train exited the station leaving me with fifty minutes of captivity and nothing to do with it. I filled the first five looking out of and pulling faces in the window. This dulled to the point of such tedium, that I was forced to do some work instead “ well at least write down in great detail a list of things I had little intention of doing.

And the most painful thing? Is it the prospect of a hundred slogging commutes through another testicle shrivelling winter? No? Then it must be the full horror of losing twelve hours a week to the travelling grind? Not that either, it’s the simple fact that there’s£1.65 I won’t be seeing again and I bet some bloody Daily Mail reader nicked my commuting stash for their cat litter.

Or maybe it’ll still be there, preserved by the honest citizens of Aylesbury Vale, lovingly wrapped in a waterproof box, with a tasteful note and a small box of chocolates, as befits a man of my status.

It’s the cat litter isn’t it?

It’s all gone dark – Part i.

On By AlexIn Other stuff7 Comments

The daily seat scrum, which passes for appropriate middle class train entry behaviour, spat me out next to a rather chubby bloke in a sharp suit. Nothing wrong with that, but an impartial analysis of the surprising juxtaposition of weak autumnal seven AM light and pitch black Oakley’s would decree a considered final satorial judgement of pretentious wanker”.

Still he was reading MacWorld or rather not reading in on account of his peril sensitive eyeware, which goes some way to explaining his peculiar behaviour. Accessorising eyeballs may be an old sell for the eighties red-braced marketeers but someone really should have a word.

Trinny and Sussanah, step away from those middle aged cacophonies of too much food and too little self esteem and perform some useful public works. Whip off your shades and shout it out Wearing Sunglasses Indoors in Fucking Moronic. Now stop it or it’ll be me decking you out in flares, wide lapels and chest wigs“

Still what do I know about cool. While the preening cats were aping their New Romantic heroes and messing about with eyeliner, I was hunched over a teletype terminal acoustically coupled to the University computer.

All my friends had NHS glasses, centre partings and pen protectors. We’d been told the Geeks Would Inherit The Earth and by God, we believed it. That was the great trick with the eighties, if Martin Fry could get away with Gold Suits and the Human League with those haircuts, attainability became the new aspiration. To paraphrase Gordon Gecko Geek is Good” “ accepted we didn’t get many girls (ok then, none) and the word wasn’t ready for Socks AND sandals but you know we’re we just a little misunderstood. No, honestly.

Not a great deal has changed but even in the pits of deepest denial could I ever dream that Waiting for a Star to Fall�? by Five Star would ever warrant the default entry on my mobile phone. Not even in a post modern ironic kind of way. An entire branch of mathematics would have to be created with that deal with that level of wrongness.

And yet Sunglasses man let it belt out the first two stanzas before flicking his tasteless jukebox open with a pudgy wrist. Maybe the shades were an inspired choice, as this is the kind of free carriage theatre that receives critical acclaim on the 6:48. For the sake of his therapy bills, I hope he thought we were laughing WITH him.