Sunday, 27 December 2009
started gunking down the motor today, got to get everything clean before i start to strip it down, top three fins off the head can go, going to cut them off with a hacksaw and clean them up with the miller, take the corners off the head and barrel, cut the crankcase down on the primary side, [cleaned it off and it's got a crack in it so nothing to lose], the oil pump can go, [pre-mix] and the kickstart assembly, loads of work to do yet.
it's all form filling at the moment, application for acu licence, application for ctc test, application for eye-test, application for bemsee, application for bmzrc, application for darley moor, you have to get one form filled in, send it off to somewhere else, get it signed before you can send it off to somewhere else to get it signed to send off to somewhere else and everyone wants their ten quid, twenty quid, thirty quid, forty quid, fifty quid.
football, the best game in the world, 'the beautiful game', unless you are a derby fan, dicked for the second time in a week at home, other teams fans must love coming here, a nice day out and three points, 30,000+ there again on boxing day and an inept performance, we would bleed to wear that shirt and you can't even kick the ball to each other, it's fucking easy, we are the one's in the white shirt's, you ruined my christmas you wankers.
bob smith, on the rgb-weslake racer, remember seeing him at oulton park in the early '80's, it was at the transatlantic race series over the easter holidays, me and the then long-suffering girlfriend used to do brands hatch on good friday, mallory on the sunday and oulton on the easter monday, it was always fucking freezing, usually rained and with hindsight was a pretty miserable experience, crashed my gs1000 with karl, vinny's brother on the back one night and had to resort to my old 400 superdream for transport, remember getting back to the bike to discover the back tyre as flat as a fart and riding around on vinny's 400-4 trying to find someone with a can of 'finalec' so we could get home. [has anyone had any success with that? i know i never did], kept filling the tyre up at every garage forecourt we came across to no avail, gail and vince and karl and his girlfriend were wet through and dithering with cold so i told them to skin out which they greatfully did, i ended up pushing the bike to some b+b where we stopped the night, it was a dss place and rough as fuck but the landlady was mint and let us use her own bathroom and put us up in her son's bedroom, i was worried about the bike but she called her brother-in-law who only happened to work in a bike shop nearby and he picked up the bike in the works van, next morning after breakfast he dropped the bike off with the puncture repaired and wouldn't take anything for doing it, talking to him he only had a moto-martin so much to the girlfriends disgust we went to the shop to have a look at it, it was a minter, kawasaki z1r in endurance race colours, he was bang into it, followed the 'team bike' racers all over the continent and here i was thinking i was pushing the envelope going to cheshire!