Archive for June, 2013

Final countdown

The countdown to the Outlaw is all that’s on my mind now. This time next week it’ll all be over but the blubbing like a little girl. Oh dear, oh dear.

The confidence boost of the swim and ride on Monday has evaporated. Now I’m back to wondering if I can do it. Yes, I can. But how bad is it going to be?

Squeaky bum time.

If you want to have a nosey at my progress through the day, the race starts at 0600 and you can track it all day here: http://www.onestepbeyond.org.uk/the-outlaw-triathlon-live-results.php I won’t be getting out of the lake until gone 0730 so no updates until then.

I’m number 956. Possibly putting ‘fat geezer at the back’ in the search box would work as well.

They are showing bits of it on the telly at some point, I’ll look out for that. Though saying that, the video of me last time looked like a sad old git wondering what the hell had hit him. Very accurate, actually.

 

As I had last Monday off to do my training I worked at Iceland yesterday to make up my hours. Some ridiculously tough driving. And as I’m used to triple axle trailers those twin axle ones catch me out every time. They turn in so fast. You set up a perfect line, turn in, glance in your mirror and your back end is heading straight for some railings. Spooks the hell out of you, I can tell you. By the end of the shift I was a nervous wreck, it shatters your confidence when you have no idea what the trailer is going to do. Still, I got through some hideously tight spots unscathed. If I was driving them all the time I wouldn’t even notice.

 

About the only other thing of note was having finished the utterly brilliant Hannibal on telly I was moved to re-read the books. I got Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs for 1p (£2.80 P&P). I remembered the books as being a bit ‘meh’, but I thought it would fill the time. Wow, I was sat here for an hour today busting for a pee but just had to read the next bit, and the next bit. Excellent. Also it makes you appreciate how faithfully they have kept to the books in the series. Lines of dialogue, situations, characters, all expertly realised.

 

Anyway, the main reason I’m posting is to keep you abreast of Twitter, I’ve not got much to say this week. So, without further ado;

 

DMreporter had:

This week’s Daily Mail Cancer List: Mon) The Euro Tue) Salami Wed) Vacuuming Thu) Corduroy Fri) Empathy Sat) Iran Sun) Your own hands

SPECIAL INVESTIGATION: Fury as bailed out bankers at taxpayer owned RBS feast on dodo steaks and the hearts of virgins at Wimbledon.

PETER HITCHENS: “The Girl Guides pledge to God was our last defence against the rise of a fascistic army of robotic Hitlers.”

CAMERON: “It was a difficult decision; either we cut pensioners bus passes or make Google pay taxes. In the end, we did the right thing.”

OSBORNE: “With today’s cuts we have sent a message to those destabilising Britain with their greed – STOP BEING POOR!”

OSBORNE: “We are all in this together, which is why we rewarded the woman whose face is on the money and not the scroungers who spend it.”

EXPOSED: 98% of Wimbledon revellers hate people on benefits and 24% think disability allowance should be used to subsidise champagne costs.

 

 

Politics/ tory scum:

Let me get this straight. If yer white and leave a bomb aboot, it’s a hate crime. If yer no white and leave a bomb aboot it’s terrorism. Hmm

Police are treating explosive near mosque as a hate-crime. To our knowledge, the word #terrorism has not been used. #Walsall

So, withdraw from Afghanistan, sack the soldiers, hand it over to the Taliban. Still it was worth it to get Bin Laden. Who was in Pakistan.

To recommend thrift to the poor is both grotesque and insulting. It is like advising a starving person to eat less… Oscar Wilde

 

And the ever delightful general tweets:

"Well, I for one would like to talk about the elephant in the room." – Jane, to Tarzan.

Retirement is receding faster than I can age. Is there a helpline for people who have been mis-sold National Insurance?

 

WOMBLE! Oh no. As you were. It was a ball boy. #Wimbledon

(to which I replied:)

@Feexby;s got me thinking about Wombles. How do we know it’s not them spreading bovine TB? #cullthewombles

Think about it; furry, long nose, ubiquitous by their own admission ("common are we") they are just setting the badgers up. #wombleybastards

Living off handouts and sleeping all day, get the wombley bastards sanctioned. And Madame Chole is suspiciously foreign. Do UKIP know?

He said: @ThegoodBuck And how big are they, TGB? Car door sized? Newspaper sized? Park bench sized. It doesn’t add up. Sinister Womble Overlords.

I said: @Feexby You are suggesting that Wombles are shape shifters? Or possibly liquid metal badger Terminators?

@Feexby This would further imply the badgers have risen. Cameron had doomed us all with his cull.

 

In other whimsy I had a rant about hot air balloonists:

I can’t be the only one who sees a hot air balloon and thinks of trebuchets and Greek fire.

I have this image of smug, self -satisfied, sold-out hippies looking down on us. Laugh this volley of incendiary doom off, twat.

"Oh I’m so at one with nature’s rhythms, floating where the wind takes me." Yeah, well now you’re at one with gravity and sudden death.

I’ve never met a hot air balloonist. #fulldisclosure

 

I forgot, but I came across this on my travels:

The guy had dropped a skip full of dirt and gravel off his truck. He was so lucky not to kill someone.

 

I love how people say they’re "expecting" a baby, as though it might be something else, like a penguin.

A study has shown that baby boys who are not hugged are at FOUR times greater risk of developing an interest in test cricket.

So sad when tennis players get injured and have to be shot.

Our trains run like clockwork. That is to say, the technology was obsolete at the turn of the 20th century.

Why men shouldn’t own action figures… #epic

With 240 bedrooms in Buckingham Palace alone, that must take a sizable chunk of #BedroomTax out of the Queen’s benefits,

You guys? You guys? YOU GUYS YOU GUYS YOU GUYS YOU GUYS.

Dear. Fucking. God.

How do they even plan to get the duck and deer to snog? Were they thinking of the bible thing about the ‘lion lying down with the lamb?’ I’m not sure it was a sexual allegory you prudish, prurient pricks.

You think your mind is open because the walls are made of glass.

What’s your Bond girl name?

Mick Jagger was raised in the wild by pigeons. #fact #glasto

Wait til he does his walk. Then you’ll believe me.

If you use the Bible to justify your opposition to #marriageequality, how do you justify your opposition to helping poor, elderly and sick?

 

And that’s your lot.

Must do better. Next time I get to blog it had better be of Iron glory. Fingers, toes and bowels crossed.

Buck.

HOLY CRAP!

I forced myself to do my trial run today. I didn’t want to, and because I’ve been putting it off it had grown to epic proportions in my mind. I couldn’t sleep for worrying about it last night. I had about 4 hours. When the alarm went off at 0540 I got back in bed. I was making excuses; too tired, I’ll go later etc. I forced myself back out of bed and (eventually) went for a swim.

Because I’d built it up so much in my mind it wasn’t that bad. I managed to do just over 2 miles in 1 hour 18, but then had to stop as I’d said I’d run Wendy in to work and she didn’t have any bus fare. I make it that would have been 2.4 miles in about 1.34 (feel free to correct me, you know how bad I am at maths. I got the Errol Flynn ‘dashing’ gene, missed out on the maths one.) which is well within the 2 hour cut off.

I came home, ran Wendy to work *cough* dicked about on Twitter for an hour and a half *cough* then dashed straight out.

It was blowing some. Right in my teeth the whole of the outward journey. And I took the scenic (lost) route. I got to Rhyl and did some more being lost. I turned around and set off home with the wind at my back. Glorious. Except I got lost and ran straight into a ‘slow lorries for the next 2 miles’ hill. On knackered legs. Joy. A 2 mile dragging hill climb. And I was still lost so I cut across to a town that was supposed to put me back on the coast road. You guessed it, lost. But then I found it and was going swimmingly until I got to Elsmere Port, or near it, when I couldn’t see a sign I wanted so headed off to Chester. Not right, lost.

So it was a long and gruelling ride of unknown length, but would have been 105 if I’d have got it right, I fear it was a fair bit longer and shitload harder. And half of it against a tough wind.

The good news was; 1, I did it! 2, it was within the 8 hours (and I think I can knock a further hour off for the amount of times I had to stop, activate the GPS, set up maps then navigation, not get a signal, reboot my ‘phone, then get lost again. So real time was about 6 hours 50, which given the wind and hills I’ll take. 3, and by no means least, it was relatively comfortable on my arse/ undercarriage. By the end of the Outlaw I was in screaming pain because I didn’t know padded trousers came in different grades so was wearing something not even fit for riding around the block in. These cost about £70 or so but are *so* worth every penny. The difference is, well, incomparable. One is almost unbearable pain, the other is a slight soreness.

The getting lost constantly on the way back knocked some of the wind out of my sails so I skipped the marathon. Call me Harry Halfajob, but I just couldn’t face it.

Anyway, I’m sat here now, gnat-bitten to buggery (I pulled over for literally 3 minutes down a farm track to take off the ill judged running shorts from beneath my cycling shorts and have a pee and I got eaten alive) and eyes burning. I reckon I can do it now though, so it was worth it. 

Now I can rest for two weeks and batter it on the big day.

Some hard today though.

Later,

Buck.

Corner turned. Possibly.

Epic news sports fans; I think I may have sussed the issues with my legs! Huzzah!

I read up on the running and triathlon sites about tight/ painful calves, expecting to see dire warnings about the tendon shrinking tendencies of cycling. Not a word. There was a lot of talk of doing too much too soon, of being too old, not stretching and bad running form. I, of course, dismissed them all. Ha! I said. Then I read some more, from professional coaches and physio’s. They said the same. Well, OK, maybe I’ve been cycling and not doing regular running, just expecting to do 20 miles from cold. And possibly I’m knocking on a bit. But I stretch like a bitch every time. Then I read about ‘proper’ stretching and tried it. Oh my word! I’ve been doing it wrong since forever. One in particular, where you put one foot behind you then sort of drop down, keeping the shin on the front leg vertical. I put the back foot at far back as possible, the toes turned to the side and really drop into it. It pulls your groin to buggery. Totally wrong, it’s supposed to be pulling your calf. Back foot facing forward, heel remains on the floor, then try to get low. I can barely drop a couple of inches into that. Oops. All that remained on the list was warm up and running form. Last time I did this I laid myself up for months, that was through forced chi running (landing on the balls of your feet, not heel striking) this time I think I triggered it walking in my cycling shoes for miles. Today I looked up some ‘dynamic stretching exercises’ (where you stretch as you move, as opposed to static where you stretch and hold, bad on cold muscles.)

I did the set before I went for a run. I buggered my calf before I’d even done the warm up set. One was a sort of bounding thing where you land on the balls of your feet and bounce up again, trying to minimise contact. As soon as I started that exercise my calf buggered up.

This got me thinking on the last part of the advice I’d read; running form. If I could resist my natural form of forefoot striking perhaps I could manage the run after all. I went out (after doing some calf specific stretches) and focused on heel striking and managed the whole 14½ miles without pain! For about 2 miles I was actually loving it, really buzzing off how comfortable (relative term) it was. I got back, stretched, (properly) had a shower, and my legs actually feel better now than when I got out of bed this morning.

This, I have to say, was whilst test driving my new running bag/ water carrier.

It is beyond awesome. I bought a cheap (saying that, I think it was still £20) generic one a year or so ago. I did a few runs in it, but it bounced causing bruising, and chafed (the dreaded army ‘webbing burn’). Also you had to run funny to try to get your elbows around the sides of the bloody thing. As I say, a few runs was all I could bear.

This is a revelation. I take back all I said about the French and their crazy arse design skills.003

You can see the two water bottles held in pouches on the shoulder straps of the bag. Note the clever bitey mouthpieces on the straws. Also the way the chest strap goes on the outside of the bottles to stop them from bouncing. And the mesh pouches for your gels/ fags, whatever.  Note also the insulated tube over my shoulder that connects to the 2½ litre water bladder in the bag. Excuse the state of me, that was after the run, I was a bit sweaty and dishevelled. Also that blubber popping out is because the pack has to be tight to stop movement. And I’m a bloater.

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High strap at top of stomach just to secure bag, fastens on the side so not in your way.

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Observe the elastics over the bag, cinching the bladder inside into place. Also note how narrow the bag is on my back, complete freedom of arm swing.

It is a genius design. I had a few stops on the first quarter of the run when I had to stop and figure out how to set it up properly, but after that I just kept on going. I wasn’t even that much slower.

The straws I thought would be a pain in the arse, sticking in my face as I ran, but oddly they don’t. They encourage good posture as they only time they get you is if you let your head fall forward.

I did the final test after the run, I had a shower. When you’ve got webbing burns this is when you find out. As does everyone else due to the volume of your scream. Not. A. Sausage. Total win.

Sorry, this is probably mind numbingly boring, but I am buzzing.  Great kit and a possible work-around for my legs. I’m back in the game! Last time this happened I was out for months! Yays! And my first test of the bag was a 14½ mile run, carrying best part of a gallon of water, and bag and I were both fine.

 

OK, I’ll shut up about that now.

 

Work is the same. I’ve booked Monday off to do a complete trial run of the Outlaw. Then the second Sunday it’s the race. *gulp*

I started on my curry diet again. Whilst I was resting. I’ve lost a few pounds, but probably put them back on again today. I literally run scared of the energy crash, so always have too many calories.

 

Why don’t you STFU and get on to Twitter?

You’re a harsh crowd, but OK.

 

DMreporter had;

KARDASHIAN BABY NAME SHORTLIST: • Kay • Kim • Kanye • Kate • Kamilla • Kordelia • Kacophonic • Koko • Klue Kivy Karter • Money

KARDASHIAN BABY NAMES SHORTLIST – READERS SUGGESTIONS: • Kevin • Kunt • ‘kinmoney • Kash • KashKow • Kretin • Kremmin • Klamydia

CAMERON: “I will not rest until Google ban child porn.” GOOGLE: “You *really* don’t understand what we do, do you?” CAMERON: “No.”

SCANDAL: Wife of teacher who ran to France with schoolgirl, 15, breaks down over media intrusion (pictures, lovely pictures).

MELANIE PHILLIPS: “We should invade Iran, kill their leaders and convert them to Judaism. You’re fools! All of you fools! Mwahahaha…”

Leave it, Mel. We’ve all had a drink. I’ll call you a taxi. #bbcqt

FEMININISM: “I tried to set up a university feminist club until the reactions of my male peers taught me the error of my ways.”

 

The usual scattergun genius of random tweets:

BLONDIE ROUNDABOUT. Splendid:

Trooping of the colour involved artillery so I chipped in: "Artillery is the God of war."Joseph Stalin, "God fights on the side with the best artillery." Napoleon . "Boom, boom, boom." Baldric

Since Newtown, there have been 14 mass shootings, or as the NRA calls them, sales opportunities.

The Telegraph reported the Nigella assault as: "the television chef appears to have become embroiled in a violent dispute with the wealthy art dealer." To which someone added: It’s just like that time I became embroiled in a violent theft with a mugger.

eBay rules: don’t trust any listing that contains the word ‘funny’ near the word ‘t-shirt’.

Diamonds Are Unethical #GuardianBond

Moonraker: Transforming Your Natural Satellite Into A Zen Retreat #GuardianBond

In the wake of a Brit wining some golf thing @Betfairpoker published a handy flowchart:

Are YOU Justin Rose?

 

Monday face:

The brilliant @VeryBritishProblems had: Receiving an email ending in "regards" and wondering what you’ve done to cause so much anger

First they came for the metadata, and I said nothing, because I didn’t feel like Googling metadata.

@PlioceneBloke had: Forage small brown wood fruit taste exact of small nut. Realise small nut. Embarrass.

BREAKING: HIstoric U.S./Taliban peace talks break down as one of U.S. deputation greets other side with "Hey Mr Taliban, tally me banana."

I think they missed the word ‘disease’ out of fortijuce ‘tropical’ flavour

I remember getting the ‘sex talk’ from my mum. No one came out of that particular premium rate call very well.

The G8 Syria talks, in full… Obama: You should do what we want you to do, even though you’ve explicitly said you won’t do it. Putin: Nyet.

I love the way people say there’s one law for the rich and one for the poor. Hahaha. You think there’s a law for the rich?

Just to clarify, I’d never visit a Newport hooker. I’m a man of principles! One of which is not to court a lady with fewer teeth than limbs.

We need #Feminism because society teaches women how to AVOID rape, rather than teaching men about their responsibilities in ending it.

Osborne at Mansion House – talking to a room full of bankers – refers to "you the taxpayer". Clearly he doesn’t know his audience.

Possibly the best door sign ever?:

Just realised that tomorrow is the longest day of the year. After that it’s just the slow trudge to winter and imminent death. #lesigh

The Queen looks a bit "MY PRECIOUSSSS!" on the front of the Daily Mail today:

As is traditional on the solstice, the trams have formed themselves into a henge. Monumental disruption to services.

So many kids these days are addicted to brackets. I blame the parentheses.

#qotd "they chickened out because Dignitas was horrible. They thought it’d be nice, like Soylent Green, where you can choose your own music"

The next person I see outdoors in a onesie is going to get punched. #brokenbritain

BREAKING: U.S. Seemingly Unaware of Irony in Accusing Edward Snowden of Spying

Appear more sophisticated in front of your date by ordering your kebab medium rare.

Stephen King nails the Twilight vs. Harry Potter debate in just two sentences

 

And on that bombshell,

toodles.

Buck.

Get thee behind me.

I had a bad to-do this week. I was tootling down the motorway, avoiding killing the usual eejits, when I saw a hippy van, (a Volkswagen camper van) with a beardy-weirdy 20-something driving, a passenger, and another beardy-weirdy lounging in the back.

I was instantly struck by a vast longing to be that hippie. It was the hippie dream, three people in a VW camper van, off to the sun and  a peace-out session. I was struck by simultaneous desire to be living the dream and a overwhelming feeling that the last 7 years of sobriety were an utter mistake.

I can’t say that I’m over it even now. I realise that that isn’t the case though. You still get  up in the morning and go to work, there are no proper hippie communes and damn few real hippies. It’s just living your life with a drug problem.

But, god, the dream!

It’s just nostalgia for a lost youth and a yearning for what should be, no more achievable than joining Gandalf for a quest, or becoming a knight of Camelot, but sometimes rationalization means bugger all.

It was so bad that for days I was thinking of non-driving jobs I could do in Cornwall so I could become a wreck-head hippie. It can’t happen. I have to think of Wendy, if nothing else. Still, it’s been a trying week.

 

In other news, my garden is coming together again quite nicely. I had that year or so when I barely touched it so it all went to wrack and ruin. I’m slowly reclaiming it from the grass. Bloody weed it is. I have one big patch at the bottom of the garden that is still grass infested. I was waiting for the nice early crop of strawberries then I was going to lift the strawberry plants and turn the lot over. Ha! Winter lasted until a few weeks ago so the strawbs are still ripening. Ho hum. Patience is a virtue.

I will put some pictures up in a minute, having some technical difficulties here. ie, my camera battery is as flat a fluke and my ‘phone is saying the SD card is full. Charging the former and transferring the files I want to keep off the latter before wiping it.

Anyway, I went to the garden centre yesterday to get a bit of cover for the raised bed. I had already planted some bulbs and baby plants there but the thousands of local cats (that Wendy feeds, grrrr) have literally shit on that attempt. So I went to get some cheap bedding plants. £46 pounds later I got some. Oops. 

I saw this lovely white rambling rose. Heavily scented covers 20’ x20’. I had to get it. I’ve put it up by the shed, I’m going to train it over the whole thing. If that works it’s going to be ace. Also, when it’s established, I’ll take some cuttings and cover the fence. That should make all the reds in the garden really jump out.

The main thing is that I have an interest again. I can work it over bit by bit as long as I’m interested. Before I was actively avoiding it.

Which brings me neatly to my training.

Oh dear, oh dear.

I have done myself a mischief with forcing those runs on tight tendons. I’ve not been for a run since, but just doing stupid things like pulling a container at work and my calves are on fire. Also, my pushbike. I took it in to the shop last week for a full service because the spokes had snapped and I thought I might as well do the whole thing while I was there. The guy is very good (he qualified in a local Ironman and got through to the world finals in Hawaii! Impressive.) but he’s also surprisingly busy for a bike shop. He obviously forgot what the bike was in for so he just replaced the spokes and sorted the remaining ones. £5. Mustn’t grumble about the cost, usually it’s the opposite. “I know all you asked for was a windscreen wiper, but we found we had to replace the engine to do it. That’s £10, 000 please.”

But, goddam it! As if I don’t have enough to worry about, not being in any way prepared for the big race, now I have to worry about the bike. Also, in a moment of weakness I was flustered into buying that dear running rucksack/ water carrier. It’s actually the less dear one. I went on the site and they had sold out of that one, in a panic I looked for the it elsewhere. In doing so I came across a reviewer saying the new one had issues with the water bottles bouncing and on the Paris de Sables (the 4 day, 100 mile run across the Sahara Desert, carrying all your supplies) the guy who’s name is on the bags wasn’t even using them. I was recommended the older, cheaper one, but naturally assumed that newer and dearer is better. It would seem that it is not. So I got the older bag before that sells out. And a water bladder.

 

Anyway, here are a few pictures;

Moved the acer, planted two baby acers there until they grow too big, and for summer colour some coleus. In the box hedge I’ve put in some plants for colour and those ones with the white flowers are supposed to spread out so eventually it will be a circle of them in box, with trees sprouting from them.

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Bloody strawberries/ grassmageddon:

006002003

 

Those aren’t very good shots, the light as wrong. The acer shines red normally.

While I was waiting for my camera battery to charge I went out for a trial run. I did 14 miles at a steady (slow) pace, I was thinking I’d cracked it, I got to within ½ a mile of home and my calf seized. My tendons are just as loose as ever they were, I think it is the muscle that contracts with cycling. I’ll google it in a minute.

3 Weeks left until the race and I’m hobbling again. *sigh* The one good thing about it, was I passed the guy from the bike shop whilst I was running back. We crossed paths, as in. He was cycling one way, I was running the other. He qualified for Kona, Hawaii, I doubt I’d ever pass him. Anyway, I was still trotting along then, so I saved myself some embarrassment there.

 

In some good news, I managed to upgrade my Operating System on my ‘phone and didn’t even kill it! Go Me! Of course I did accidentally wipe all my data off the ‘phone whilst doing it, but you can’t make an omelette without breaking wind. Or something.

Enough of my witterings; to Twitter;

 

DMreporter had:

EXPOSED: The Disability Living Allowance claimants ‘raking in a fortune of taxpayers money’ for bad backs, heart disease and having no legs.

TSUNAMI OF SLEAZE: 25% of people who attend music festivals admit to having slept with someone who they didn’t later marry.

EXPOSED: The lesbian parents seeking to ban Father’s Day because it infringes on their human-rights.

 

While in politics/ tory scum we had:

£15 million on a Thatcher museum? While disabled people surf skips for food? How much more of this can we take? PS it’s our money!

US Government spies on citizens = Just keeping us safe. Foreign government spies on citizens = Police state.

Torture, rendition, drones, wars, spying, indefinite detention but US govt still speaks the human rights language. Unbelievable.

Would you be happy to give up your job so someone can do it unwaged? No? Then don’t tell me #workfare is a good idea. Workfare costs jobs.

The War Nerd: Who Won Iraq? Answer: Anyone Who Stayed Out

 

Sub section, UKIP tips:

When tarting up UKIP office space, always put up a ‘wacky’ sign that reads ‘You don’t have to be racist to work here, but it helps’.

UKIP members have nothing to fear from GCHQ’s covert intelligence gathering operations.

The floods in Central Europe may well be an indicator of man-made climate change as opposed to God being angry with the EU.

Struggling to find Nigel Farage on Question Time? He’s the one on the far right. #bbcqt

 

General tweetage was as diverse and bizarre as ever:

I just cleaned my whole house in an hour. And by cleaned, I mean went out for drinks with the girls.

just trying to relax by listening to some old tapes of whale song, but only just noticed how misogynistic the lyrics are – briny filth.

I know I need an infinite number of monkeys and typewriters but I think I will start with one and build up

The weekend goes so quickly when you spend it screaming in despair.

Monday is Jeremy Paxman’s favourite day of the week. He likens it to "An owl in winter. Soft, snowy, mysterious, comes after Sunday."

chocolate just tastes better when you pretend a fat German kid drowned in it

"If you don’t read the newspaper, you’re uninformed. If you read the newspaper, you’re mis-informed." – Mark Twain

Some TopTips:

FATHER CHRISTMAS. Save on costly surveillance & time spent working out who’s been naughty this year by just asking GCHQ.

ADD ‘-meister’ or ‘-ster’ to the first syllable of your surname to find out what you’d be called if you were a twat.

WRITING TIP: Be quick to overlook the faults in your own writing to leave more time to criticise the work of others

You can simplify Schrodinger’s cat experiment by putting a dead cat in the box. #ScienceTips

I had a bad start to Wednesday:

Woke up in a flap as I didn’t know how to turn alarm off in new OS. Shower. Come down,step in a puddle of cat-piss. Made coffee, milk’s off

Be aware people, Monday is all ninja-ed up and is posing as a Wednesday.

 

Cool lizard, a leaf tailed Gecko apparently;

In a montage scene, Kevin Costner teaches Superman about human suffering by making him watch a selection of Kevin Costner films.

 

I noted a news story:

Revisionist tinfoil hat of week; Was Elizabeth the first a man in drag? See, the truth at last. Fight the matriarchy claiming all history!

‘She’ let it slip with "I may have the frock of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the loins of a donkey. Errr, heart & stomach. Of a king"

Good news. We have identified a further two Cylons among our staff which means there are now only six walking among us

 

Oh look an overdramatic cat:

I would do anything for love (but I won’t do VAT) #taxhavensongs

#AQUARIUS: Everyone you know will eventually die. Some of them not soon enough, sadly.

I was left wanting on a science problem:

Twitter, science problem. When Charley is in the Great Glass Elevator and the rockets cut out, would they remain standing or float?

We can overlook the 3 males smashing the glass ceiling irony for now. Though if @kermodemovie has any holidays booked I’m here all week.

Mrs thinks they would float/ stick to ceiling. I think gravity and air resistance of the GGE would mean they would stand.

My thought experiment involving a cat, cam, and shoebox has been ruined by the cat having read Schrodinger.

The cat refuses to act naturally when encumbered by a respirator and gieger counter.

No definitive reply.

.@StraightPrideUK When you finally suck a cock, all it’s going to taste of is relief

ALL INFIDELS MUST DIE. ALBINO BASTARDS BACON BASTARDS #AlanAckbar #ShakiraLaw #EDL

(that was a spoof account set up to wind up the English Defence League/ Nazis in general)

"I have learned from my mistakes, and I am sure I can repeat them exactly" Peter Cook

Cool graffiti:

 

And with that,

toodles,

Buck.

Houston, we have a problem.

Oh dear, oh dear.

You know I  went for that run and pulled my right calf/ tendon? I stretched it off today and went for a marathon run. After 6 miles my left calf/ tendon suddenly started hurting. I carried on the next 8 miles back to the house (I was doing a 14 mile loop followed by a 12 mile one) and just around the corner from our house my right went! Badly. I shuffled the final few hundred yards and quit.

It’s a well known fact that cycling shortens your tendons. A fact that I’ve never believed because it has never affected me. Now I’m a believer. 4 weeks until the race and I’m only good for 6 miles before things start breaking. Oh dear. Drastic action is required. I can’t stop cycling, but I’m going to run for an hour every day to try to get my legs in running condition.

I don’t understand it. You know how they say to bend over and touch your toes as a stretching exercise? I bend over and put my palms flat on the floor. How long have your tendons got to be? I only want to run with the buggers, not bungee jump the Grand Canyon with them.

 

On the bike front, things are improving. I’m used to cycling to work (10.75 miles) in 10th gear and the other night (against a slight but constant crosswind) managed to knock 2½ minutes off my PB.

And then, out of the blue whilst riding to work, two of the spokes in my front wheel failed and wrapped around the spindle. I managed to wrench them free and get in on time, but then I was worried the front wheel was going to collapse. Having my feet clipped into the pedals that could have been very painful.

This meant that first thing on Friday I had to take my bike in for a complete overhaul. I talked to the guy when I got my long valve inner tubes after the last debacle. He said for a new chain, gears, popping the bearings out, greasing and replacing I was looking at £80. Now I need at least 2 new spokes and all the others checking and adjusting. And new brake blocks, while I’m there. There goes at least a ton.

I have to have it done though. If my chain snapped or a wheel collapsed on the Outlaw I would cry like a girl. Especially if it was near the end of the ride.

Anyway, the money I’m saving on diesel will pay for it. Still. Grrrr.

So my plan is; Mondays do the full 2.4 mile swim for the next 3 weeks, all the other days do an hour run and ride to and from work. Weekends I’ll do a big run and ride.

This is going to be a grit-fest. I’m so not ready.

 

At work they’ve rented a ‘new’ (2010) truck for me and this other lad to use. It does the full 56 mph and pulls like a train up the hills. This is good. What is bad is; it’s French. A Renault.

The crazy arse French have lost the plot with this one. All the trucks have a dial on the dash where you turn your lights on. Not the French. It’s on the indicator column. So when you indicate you either flick it to high beam or turn your lights off. Then there’s the drive system. Normally you put it in neutral (or it goes into neutral when you stop)  turn the key, select forwards and off you trot. Too easy. This one, on one column again, has a neutral/ drive selector. So you fiddle with that. Put it in neutral turn the key, then you have to take it out of neutral on the column. Then select a gear on another switch on the column, then you are going. In manual. You then have to flick the column to select automatic. All of this is on a column behind the steering wheel.

It’s just tons of stupid little things. The design of most other trucks is similar and simple. This, being French, has to do it differently. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

I mentioned on Twitter “Not trying to make lazy, racist assumptions, but what were the garlic munching surrender-monkeys thinking?”

I got my license back, finally. The good news with that is; although it was supposed to be renewed on the 9th of June, and my 3 points don’t expire until the 14th (so I thought I was going to have to send it back again and pay for a new license) they have taken them off! Clean license! Woo-hoo!

Now I can start looking for a new job. Or perhaps wait until after the Outlaw, come to think of it. I need to be able to take time off as I need it for the next few weeks.

 

“What of this Twitter, you mentioned?” I hear you cry.

Well, it’s been fun.

 

DMreporter had;

WESTMINSTER AFFAIR CANDIDATES: • Jeremy Hunt & Rupert Murdoch • Danny Alexander & the Conservative Party • Ed Balls & Puffles the Dragon

POLITICS: Clegg promises to get tough on sleaze with his new bill ‘How to Avoid Getting Caught for Dummies’.

CRY BABIES: Fury as it’s revealed most reported ‘anti-Muslim’ attacks are just verbal abuse, racist graffiti and mild violence.

HEALTH: Jeremy Hunt blames 111 helpline chaos on “a lazy nation and selfish workers, arrogantly resisting the calm embrace of privatisation”

TROLLING: Daily Mail journalist struggling to sell house invents psychological imbalance to justify article. Did we mention it’s for sale?

ENTERTAINMENT: ‘Best Racist Train Rant’ to be category at 2014 BAFTAS.

 

 

In politics/ tory scum we had:

I love the fact that EDL leader Tommy Robinson’s (real name Stephen Yaxley-Lennon) parents were immigrants! That’s perfect.

Half a million people reliant on food banks. Cameron says it’s a great example of the big society. I say it’s a fucking disgrace.

The country is in Austerity and Vodafone is let off a £8bn Tax Bill.

Yup.Close to Half a million Americans shot dead since 911. But look over there ……..Terror terror terror.

Over 11,000 US women killed by husband or boyfriend since 9/11: more than all US civilians&soldiers in"War on Terror"

(That is really shocking when you look at it. That’s data including the big one of 9/11 and the subsequent Iraq and Afghanistan wars.)

 

 

‘General’ was as eclectic as ever:

Noisy neighbour: http://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10152864999975557&id=743640556&_rdr

(That’s really funny, btw, well worth clicking.)

 

We need a lolcats of the left:

(I was bitching. Again:) My last job at work was a collection. An artic lorry, with a 13 metre trailer, to pick up this:

I came across this, a rock version of House of the Rising Sun. From about 1970, so virtually all my life and I’ve never heard it. Awesome cover: youtube.com/watch?v=t40INnb6DnY …

As you head off to bed, try not to worry that the average human unknowingly consumes 13 goats while they’re asleep in their lifetime.

Hey asshats: if you think you’re being "censored," then WHY DO I KEEP ON HEARING YOUR IDIOCY?

Poor Liam Gallagher’s kid. 9 out of 10 again:

Poor Liam Gallagher’s kid. 9 out of 10 again. (by @scottywrotem)

60 years on welfare must be a British record, ma’am #coronation

A lot of hate about Posh Spice winning #WomanoftheYear. Obviously you don’t know her work on renewable energy & Quantum Physics *sniggers*

DAY 40 OF SAME-SEX MARRIAGE BEING LEGAL IN NEW ZEALAND: Rainbows have blotted out the Sun. We’ve run out of new babies. NOBODY WARNED US!

McCain says we can’t have women in the military because men rape them. That sounds more like an argument against allowing men in the military.

Some of the people commenting at The Telegraph seem to have mistaken The Gay Marriage Bill for The Compulsory Bumming of Everyone Bill.

Kill off pensioners, get everyone else in debt, and we promise to kick the unemployed’ is an easy manifesto to write. Snappy.

(Me:) Just seen a motorcyclist in the de rigueur black leather onesie, but accessorized with white "fuck me" boots. Fashion. Disaster.

Two hours ago they were adamantium. In two hours time they will be blue fur. Currently, though, these pears are yummy.

In your fruity faces, you pear bastards. I WIN!

BRAINESDOCTORE: (answering door) Polise !Coem in. Im hav newes. POLISE: Sorey for crashe into hous! BRAINESDOCTORE: Whats? ASSTANT: Nothinge

 

 

 

In a new category we have ‘TLF travel alerts’, keeping London commuters informed:

Please sign our petition to make it legal for ladies to start looking in their handbags for tickets *before* getting to the ticket barrier.

Delays at Mornington Crescent. Due to engineering works Trumpington’s Variations are in effect rather than the usual Tudor Court Rules.

Just a zone 4 girl Livin’ in a lonely world She took the District line goin’ anywhere.

Just a city boy Born and raised in Theydon Bois He took the Central line goin’ anywhere.

A busker in a crowded station A smell of fear and desperation For a while you can share the night It goes on and on and on and on …

Strangers, waiting Up and down the platform Their shadows searching in the night.

Bus stop people Living just to find emotion Hiding somewhere in the night.

Working hard just to make ends meet Everybody wants a seat Payin’ anything to top up your Oyster one more time.

Some will win, some will lose Some were born to get the tube Oh, the commute never ends It goes on and on and on …

Don’t stop commutin’ Hold on to that handrail Bus stop people Oh woah woaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…

 

That is genius. A total abuse of the 140 character limit tweet ethos, as it was so many tweets, but genius.

Amywho, that’s about it.

Later,

Buck.

Keep on keeping on.

It’s been a strange and stressful week. I worked the bank holiday Monday but then my run wasn’t on for 10 days. Seems the factory still celebrate Whitsun. I don’t even know what that is.

I took advantage and told the agency I was having Tuesday and Wednesday off to train. Ha! Tuesday I was struck down with a cracking headache. Which reminds me, in the previous few weeks, when I was cutting out the chocolate and riding my bike to work every day, I didn’t get a headache. That is pretty amazing for me.

I’m not sure if it was the lack of chocolate/ butter or the exercise keeping my sinuses flowing (tmi, I know!) but it was welcome.

So Tuesday I basically moped and necked painkillers. The agency sent me a text saying ‘call me’. I did. “Can you work tonight?” No, you cheeky bastards.

Anyway, that left me with Wednesday to do some serious training. I got my bike all set up, got a load of energy gels, some energy powder mixed into two one litre water bottles, and set off to Rhyl. Gmaps pedometer said it was a 110 mile round trip. I was up for it.

I got over the swing bridge and turned on to the start of Walton drag (14 minutes, 45 seconds riding) when my back tyre popped going over a pothole. I pulled over and set to replacing it. It’s not an easy matter any more. You have to take the wheel out, take on side of the tyre off then the other side and remove the tyre completely to be able to take out the long stem of the inner tube valve. I did it. Then reversed the procedure, even harder as you have to get the last bit of tyre on using just your hands as the tyre lever could pinch and pop the new tube. I put it back in the frame, went to pump it up, then realised I’d put the old tube back in. *sobs*

Start again. I got the new tube in, put it back in the frame, went to pump it up, and it was the wrong valve. I had a pack of two spare inner tubes with me, both of them short valves. By short I mean ‘normal’ sized valves. Modern wheels have deep set rims, so you need extra long valves. I couldn’t even get the pump on these ones.

So I had to walk back 4 or 5 miles to the local specialist bike shop, in cleated cycling shoes. These have the cleat thing (the locking mechanism to attach your shoes to the pedals) under the balls of your feet. This means you are walking on your heels with your toes pointing up. Exactly the position those ‘natural running’ trainers made you assume. The same trainers that laid me up for six months.

I could feel my legs pulling as I was walking but, other than going barefoot, I couldn’t see and option. I got some proper tubes and rode home. By this time the weather had turned and I’d lost the will to live. I decided just to do the run to end of the canal (at the bridge at St Helens) and back. About 13 or 14 miles. I set off at a steady, quite reasonable, pace. I was within about 3 or 4 minutes of the bridge when my calf started to really hurt. Well, the bit below my calf. Where I was injured that time. Oh dear, oh dear.

I was almost exactly half way into the run, wet (it had started raining) and would have soon been very cold if I’d have tried to hobble home. I tried to stretch off, to no avail, then decided I had no choice but to carry on running. That was unpleasant. And worrying. All the time I was thinking if that is my tendon gone again I’m making it worse. I could be out of action for the rest of the year.

I’ve rested it for the rest of the week. I’ll try a short run in bit. Fingers crossed. It’s not hurting in the day to day walking about.

 

On Thursday I was back at Iceland. I had a bit of a panic attack when I got the text on Wednesday, worrying about what one of the drivers had said about a store that was really tight and you had to blind side reverse into it. It sounded awful. I needn’t have worried. I got one much, much worse.

It’s under the Golden Square in Warrington.  It’s marked as a ‘red route’ and it’s bloody horrible. It took me about 4 or 5 attempts to get it in. And then I had to have someone watching my back end.

plan

It was like the picture-perfect rendering above.  Two bollards at the front stopping you from swinging the cab wide, a barrier on the blind side entrance and one on the driver side (which you can’t see as soon as you start to turn in.) To add to the fun the trailer had steering rear wheels which I’ve never encountered before. Normally you pivot around the middle wheel at the back of the trailer. You get that level with your turning point then throw the cab around. If you do it right the trailer doesn’t really move length-wise just spins around it’s pivot. Not so with the steering jobby. You line it up, put on hard lock and the trailer tries to drive into the barrier. Goddamn terrible.  At about my third or fourth attempt (from scratch. I had to give up and drive out and try a different approach) I was actually thinking I just couldn’t do it. That I was going to have to ‘phone work and tell them.

I got it in the end. Then I had to drive to a second store in Wales. This one was again a red route. You had to stop in the middle of the main road, over a zebra crossing, take both lanes and reverse into a tight yard. But it was on the driver side. Ha! Didn’t even break a sweat after the first store. Just threw it in.

I got another blind side store on Friday, but nowhere near as bad.

Yesterday (Saturday) then sent me out in a rigid. The deliveries were that bad that an artic wouldn’t fit. I was worried. I needn’t have been, they were relatively easy deliveries. The problem was the fecking rigid. Or rather, me. I was coming up to a really tight corner so I drove right across it then went to swing hard right, as you do in an artic. There’s a crap lock in a rigid, I didn’t even get half way around. I had to back up and set it up again. Then there was the reversing. You look in your mirror and spin the wheel to get your trailer around. You don’t even think about it. I did that in the rigid but it steers like a car ie, the wrong way. I kept having to slam the brakes on before I hit something. It was nerve wracking.

I’m back at Ceva tomorrow at ungodly o’clock (0600) doing a general haulage multi-drop thing. Last time I did it I was a nervous wreck, after this week it will seem like a holiday.

 

Then, as soon as poss, must train. Just looked it up, I have 4 more weeks to train. SWEET BABY JESUS!

This year it is going to be done on pure grit alone. Deary me.

I don’t even know if I’ll fit into my wetsuit in my fattitude. Two things I will have to resolve today; whether my leg is OK and lardarse wetsuit fitting.

 

Enough of my babbling, “what of Twitter?”, you cry. This:

 

The DMreporter had this:

(After Nick Ross argued that all rape isn’t rape) SEX CRIME: Rape victims to be renamed rape co-conspirators in bid to counter society’s assumption that it’s always the attackers fault.

BANK HOLIDAY MADNESS: • Extremists seize control • Population ‘terrified’ • Police ‘overwhelmed’ • PM on holiday • DFS slash prices

BREAKING: English Defence League convince everyone of their point of view with violent rampage of considered arguments.

THREAT: Wedding of Pakistani lesbian couple opens floodgates for millions of gay immigrants, which are the worst kind of immigrants.

ARE YOU A TERRORIST? MI5 chief warns ‘the threat is inside’ and urges citizens to spy on themselves and report any suspicious behaviour.

ARE YOU A TERRORIST? • Do you buy the Guardian to smuggle uranium into the house. • Do you think the nudity in Homeland was “unnecessary.”

ARE YOU A TERRORIST? • Do you tick ‘other’ on surveys about religion? • Is your skin is darker than Pantone 19-0922? • Do you vote Labour?

CONSPIRACY: British police PROTECT hate preachers and paedophiles instead of letting PATRIOTIC mobs tear them apart – an investigation.

NUCLEAR THREAT: Argentinian tourist revenue in the UK soars past £100m a year, raising concerns we’re currently being very slowly invaded.

This week’s Daily Mail Cancer List: Mo) Swimming Tu) 40’s dancing We) Angora Th) Brie Fr) Chess Sa) Tight spaces Su) Dolphin brains

PROFILE: Sexism and ageism at the BBC? Tell that to TV’s newest historian who is young, a woman and also a pretty hot piece of ass.

 

In politics/ tory scum we had:

EDL members saying only one guy did the nazi salute and it would be wrong to blame them all. Oh the irony. #couldnotmakeitup

Gordon Brown has given £600,000 from speech making to charity. Not often I say this so here goes: What an extraordinarily good thing to do.

‘£37 billion for a war in Afghan … whilst kids from Birmingham to Skegness queue for food handouts in the 7th richest nation on Earth..’

That’s Lee Rigby’s family, his regiment and Help For Heroes who want nothing to do with #EDL. Who the fuck are they claiming to represent?

 

UKIPtips subsection:

Goldie Hawn is an American actress with no links to any Greek far right movements you may have seen on Channel 4 News.

The ‘Muslim World’ is not an actual place. It is not possible to deport people there

A mosquito is a not a Mexican jihadist

A solar eclipse occurs when the moon passes between the sun and the earth and is not due to immigrants devouring the sun.

 

 

General tweets were as varied as ever:

You’re only limited by your own imagination! And money. And talent. And genetics. And time. And other people. Go for it!

Every time they shout "Fruit toast" from the counter in Starbucks, stand up, raise your cup and say "Gentlemen, to homosexuals, hoorah!".

SAYING pull my finger then shitting yourself adds a hilarious new dimension to a rather tiresome practical joke.

Poor newspaper layout of the day…

Chap representing himself has just referenced the American constitution and pulled a fist pump at the judge. Not sure that’s going to help

How to float 1: Pour some water on the ground. 2: Step away from water. 3: Take a photo.

 

A Hitler Fried Chicken shop in Thailand. I kid you not. Complete with pic of Hitler in bow tie

A Hitler Fried Chicken shop in Thailand. I kid you not. Complete with pic of Hitler in bow tie.

For those of you keeping score at home: burning poppies = arrested. Sieg heiling and shouting racist abuse = not arrested.

HR solicited feedback for the boss’s performance review, so if anyone knows a constructive way of saying "worthless shithead", let me know.

Lord Justice Ward ‘This case involves a number of, and here I must not fall into Dr Spooner’s error, warring bankers’

RUKEY: (outside bank) Oboy.Youm can Do thise! Oboy . (enters through revolving door) (exits through revolving door) Stile outsied.Trye again

"We cant even fly our own flag any more" Translation: I have six in my front garden and four on my car. #RightwingDictionary

Top tip: deter burglars by chalking the outline of a person on your hallway floor.

give a man a meat loaf, & he’ll eat for a day. Give a man MeatLoaf & he won’t do that.

if you’re transphobic and want to know why i’m trans: i did it to upset you, personally

Guys, is there some kind of consultation group made up of white male experts who we can contact to check if stuff is racist and sexist?

 

PlioceneBloke had:  Forage crab. Massive nip. Big try of throw crab away. Crab stuck. Nip scream. Splash panic. Sink. Forage seaweed instead.

Massive facepink of burn sunshine. Suspect magic.

Twitter not invent yet, or Friday. So just effeff small hedgehog for now.

 

 

“So Louise Mensch has written a blog on feminism & privilege checking. Tell us your thoughts” I’d rather staple my cock to an angry bear.

Twitter updates:

Would her voice be the same if she wasn’t fat? Being fat isn’t a talent. #BGT << *crosses another skill off CV*

I’d think there are some great deals on BBQs out there right now. *watches Duck float past window*

So awkward when you offer your seat to a pregnant lady and then she’s not pregnant, not a lady and it’s your reflection in the window.

 

TWENTY invaluable job interview tips:

Once you’ve made it through to the interview stage in your job hunt, then you’ll probably feel pleased, even a bit excited. You’ll want to do your best to impress your future employers and show them you’re the right person for the job.

There can be so much to think about, so here’s some handy pointers to set you on the path to interview success.

1. When asked what your weaknesses are, say Ryan Gosling. It’ll break the ice. Then say ‘persistent lateness’ or something.

2. Bring a box to the interview, point at it and say “I do all my thinking outside of that.” Then open some champagne.

3. Tattoo your limitations down one arm. Interviewers admire honesty.

4. When asked if you want anything to drink, say “Just a glass of job please!” Then laugh for 15 minutes. No less.

5. When shown to the interview room, walk further up the corridor & say “I always go the extra mile!” Then click your heels.

6. Show you give 110% by pouring 10% too much water into your glass. Smile knowingly.

7. Wear a sock puppet on one hand, make it whisper in your ear and say “What’s that, Mr Wuzzles? I seem ideal for the job?”

8. Loosen your tie as you enter & say “Phew! Is it me or did it get 100% more dynamic in here?” Then reverse high five them.

9. When they ask if you got here all right, reply “I always succeed in getting to where I’m going” then punch a nearby door.

10. Tell them you won’t need a lunch hour because you’re powered by results. Then make a powerboat noise for about 8 minutes.

11. Unbutton your shirt to reveal a Superman ‘S’ & say “Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s increased productivity!”

12. Dress as an American footballer to show you’re a team player. And have ‘Sustained Growth’ written on your football.

13. Say “I hope to become part of the furniture here.” Then crouch into a ball pretending to be a pouffe & never move again.

14. Show you’re a fast learner by wearing an L plate round your neck & a Usain Bolt face-mask. Don’t speak. They’ll get it.

15. If they extend their hand for you to shake, enclose it in your hands and say “Look! A hand-sandwich! I need this job.

16. When asked where you see yourself in 5 years, say “owner of a B&B for cats” and tap your nose like you know the market.

17. Produce 2 cans of Dr Pepper & push one over to your interviewer. Then break open yours & say to them “Virgo. Am I right?”

18. Give your interviewer a hollow pork pie. Then lean back and say “That’s your company – I’m your pork.”

19. Hire a billboard across the road from the interview room that shows you wrestling a bear. Point to it occasionally.

20. When asked if YOU have a question say “Where do you see YOURSELF in 5 years’ time, nosey?” Laugh. Pass around some mints.

 

APPLE STORE. Avoid confusion and disappointment by changing the name of the “Genius Bar” to the “Twat Desk”.

A duck’s word for anthropomorphism is "quack".

Oh no!! Who will fly the badger planes??

Appear taller to women AND knowledgeable about nature by pointing at a stem of broccoli and saying "That’s an oak tree".

#hignfy say prince Phillip asked a Polish scientist "did you come here to pick raspberries?"

Should have replied "thought Greeks did unskilled jobs? Or is that just you?"

Things that outnumbered the BNP today: 1) Badger enthusiasts 2) People who like The Wright Way 3) Members of The Fall.

Far-Right Extremists Chased Through London by Women Dressed as Badgers – IBTimes UK

http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/articles/473597/20130601/bnp-edl-hate-fascist-badgers.htm#.UapXNTlAb6A.twitter

You can talk of warm beer and blitz spirit, but if pushed I’d have say Britishness is people dressed as badgers chasing off nazis. #proud

Is there an equivalent of UKIP, but for animals? ‘Cause I’d totally send back all the grey squirrels.

 

Well, thank you Twitter for once again saving the day.

Later,

Buck.