another perfectly good motorcycle ruined.......

Thursday, 11 July 2013

aermacchi






spent a couple of hour's round at dangerous's gaff bolting up the 'double-bubble' fairing last night, the screen needed a touch of therapy as the previous owner had made the mistake of drilling it with a normal hss drill bit instead of 'backing it off' a tad so its easier to drill without causing any damage, a bit of shaping with a smoothish file and some wet and dry to finish and it's sorted, i was a bit apprehensive about running the fairing, seem's such a shame to hide the mastery of the rickman bros behind a fibreglass fairing, but, now it's on, i can't imagine it without it, plus you can junk the big, horrible plastic number boards and free up all that lovely fresh air in front of the rear wheel, job done, we skin out up to 'miles from nowhere' for the second time this week, it's a cool, fresh, night compared to the last few, we stop for fuel at heanor, i park up next to the pump, filler out, nozzle in, nothing, i press the delivery lever again, nothing, dangerous shout's across to me, ' look at the notice on the pump dickhead' oh, it's a laminated photo-copy, 'motorcyclists MUST remove helmets before fuel is dispensed' well, i'm a fifty-four year old bloke wearing an open-faced lid, must be the local kid's in fullfaces stealing a tank-full for there scoot's, i try again, nothing, a 'lady' [i use this term loosely] comes out of the service station and tell's me 'take your helmet OFF or you don't get fuel!' at any other time other than being desperate, i would have just found another garage, the last time i encountered this i just threw the hose on the floor and rode off, i'm fucking livid, i take off my old cromwell and put it on the floor, draw my fuel and pay without a word, no 'thank-you's' no ''how's it going' or 'the weather's brilliant isn't it' none of those usual little human interaction's that make life more bearable, i just offer my money, get change and leave, if you think i'm a criminal what do you expect? 'i'm so sorry to be riding a motorcycle and for calling into your poxy establishment and offending you by my wish to draw fuel, pay and leave without the inconvenience of having to remove my helmet, by the way, do you ask all bmw car owner's for a copy of their driving licences before you let them draw fuel just in case they are drug dealers, gun runners or just the simple fact that they don't use their indicators? i feel like playing up to being 'typecast' where's the fucking chickens? i'm gonna bite their little heads off'! 'who you looking at square? i'll chain whip you and your's, steal your wallet and set fire to your volvo mofo!' pull out a glock 19 and blast the pumps, instead, i just stick my lid back on and mutter a curse under my breath catching the two old hag's in the service station smiling broadly at their win, fuck them, i'll never use this place again, down to MFN, it's rammed, traditionally more sports bikes here tonight but the 'alternative' brigade is out in good numbers, less bog-stock shop harleys and more cutdowns, chops, old brit wankers, classic iron getting an airing and the usual assortment of race-piped japper's, a small contingement of jap cafe racers and the ever present buzzing of local kid's on ped's, finally caught up with grant, he's been commenting on the blog and we just hit it off straightaway, had a good chat about the state of things, and we will meet up soon, my faith in human nature almost restored, the usual dash for home ensues, dangerous still 'headlight down' in other word's, not working, we stay out far too long for safety's sake, at least his back light is working, fly splattered spectacles, oily jean's and petrol stains down my rattlecan spray job.......

6 comments:

  1. you shouldve just fingered her arse and made her smell it, then said "show us where you piss from" then booted it right on the bean. old slag.

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  2. Let it all hang out Lovey, warts n all mucker, warts n all . . . the 'Macchi is marvelous mate, mindblowingly so, I went back and had a squiz at the first pics you posted, world class resto mate, fucking glorious my brotherman !!! XX

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  3. P.S . . . who's the little lad with that ever so stylish bowl cut . . . I reckon those collars were capable of flight.

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  4. ahh, mr william's, you know me so well, that little lad is me timmy b. aged 13, a couple of 'photo-booth' pictures from our annual holiday to billy butlin's holiday camp at filey, yorkshire, [if you look carefully you can see the white cord around my neck in the top left hand photo, all the kid's used to wear their chalet key's around their neck's this way so you could stop off for a pit-stop during the week's mayhem without disturbing mum and dad who were probably blocking a couple of cheeky one's in the beachcomber bar, best times of my life mate, i was blessed, a mum and dad who loved me, a week on holiday with my auntie, uncle, cousins and grandma, yep, the bowl-cut is deffo a 1972 haircut, but, check out the aforementioned round collared ben shermans, the paisley print one being particularly fucking cool, [well it was in derbyshire in 1972!] the plain one in the photo's on the left was i remember a lovely bottle green, check out my harlequin tank-top too, [i couldnt afford different tank tops so had to wear the same top with a different shirt all week what you can't see is the levi shrink to fit bleached jeans, worn short to reveal the red socks and a pair of highly polished ox-blood red two-tassle slip on loafer's, the sign of a well turned out young suedehead methink's?

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  5. 1970's fashion yea we were ripped off ......all of us looked like t'wats
    tank top three stars,oxford bags are we gerrin it

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