yesterday went too soon

made loads of progress yesterday, treasure turned up in the way of a high-performance air filter, did some research, this thing flow's more air than the industry standard k+n, half the price too, and you can just chuck it in the washing machine with your weekly wash and it comes out ready to go again, bargain, scored a pair of fork-gaitor's too, same source, 'genuine' made in taiwan triumph items in a plastic bag, marked up with 'official triumph' or the same item, in a clear, plastic bag, exactly the same, made in the same factory for half the price? picked up the headlight / indicator bracket's from the world's grumpiest welder, not sure if this is going to work yet, may end up cutting them down and just using them as indicator mountings as i didn;t realise how much off-set i need to mount the headlight in such a small space, hmmm, may need a rethink on this one? on a brighter note, cut down the big, long, massive front mudguard to half the size of the o.e.m item, very satisfying just using a file and wet and dry to get the shape, half the length of the original item, going to get johnthe painter to work his spray-majick on it, [might slot the mounting holes with a file though so it sit's closer to the tyre first], up to cornerspeed to see neil, robbed a couple of 'desmo inside' sticker's off him, brilliant! got new front and rear pad's and a set of pin's and 'r'clips for a steal, home and 'tapered' off some stainless bolt's for that 'factory' look, a bit of solvol on the anti-rattle shim and mounted up with 243 loctite, sorted.........

thank you [falletinme be mice elf again]

, a

whoah, two week's passed in the blink of an eye, rehabilitating an injured, three-week,  post-op dog, walking his 'bro, loads of shit at work, m.o.t to sort for my trusty vw, drive-to-work, work-to-drive polo, [not including my exhaust falling off, getting two new tyres fitted because the others were balder than a porn-star's 'lady-garden'] sorting a new phone because my old nokia went to rat-shit, [is it me or what? don't you want to drop the nut on the tosser's who work in 'phone shop's? 'do you actually think you need a gig of data per month sir?' 'well, let me think about that for a second shop-boy, yes, actually i do need a gig of data per month because i can actually check out bike-porn during my dinner hour, look at tool's, [no offence meant by that 'beard-boy' i know your mother's got one, oh, and by the way, i've actually been wearing converse for forty year's, not actually seen them on some hip fashion blog, actually and decided that with some skinny jeans, [low-slung of course], a skull belt buckle and a cheeky, angled, peaked, woollen beany, that i'm actually 'da shit' squeeze me? baking powder? OI! HELLO CUNT! why are you looking at other potential customer's in the shop when i'm talking to you? yes, i'm an old, unimportant bloke asking questions, but, mate, i've been round the block a few times, a 'quiet' word get's his unreserved attention, i get a good deal, a nice phone and everyone's happy, is there a sweeter fragrance than nitromor's? nah, [seriously. i don't think it's as strong as it used to be, undo the cap and your eyebrow's were falling off, now? you could gargle with it] the black, powdercoating peel's away to reveal roughly machined aluminium, two night's work, wet and dry in four different grades, down to a 1200 grit, [too shiny], see's me reverting to worn out 400 and a quick polish with solvol, perfect. roughed out the rear brake hanger and offered it up, stood back and took in the 'big-picture' and realised the o.e.m oil cooler is uglier than an ugly thing that's been hit with the ugly stick, that's got to go, a little digging through the trade catalogues  and i find two alternatives, the 'classic' mocal, big jappper, beet-style, early 80's, thin, but wide, aluminium cooler and the 'temp-a-cure' curved, more modern, superbike stylee item, can't decide which way i'm going to go yet, i like them both, suggestions needed folk's, [actually].............

walking wounded

 'if i bang my fucking head on that fucking thing again i'm going home bailey!' dangerous is pissed, the oberon indicator is just at the correct height to catch it with your swede everytime you walk past, 'for fuck's sake!' dangerous cop's another direct hit to the temple, i'm pissing myself, [it's alway's funny until someone get's hurt and then it's hilarious], he's got ugly, red, contusions to his forehead, brilliant, tear's running down my face, sides aching, the more i laugh, the angrier he get's, 'bailey, you really are a cu....' the forkleg's need to get the stupid, mudguard stay mountings cut off, no other reason than it just look's better, the i-pod is chugging out goldie lookin'chain, straight outta newport, 'your mother's got a penis' boof, dangerous is holding his head, bloody hell, i reckon he's dead, third strike, even mike tyson would be down on his knee's, not dangerous, 'tea and a hot, buttered, tea-cake thank's.....' i stick a bit of lagging around the offending item and immeadiately smash my knee-cap into the corner of the bike-lift, i'm hanging onto the content's of my stomach, fuckinhellthathurt, dangerous smiles, blood running down his fore-heed, [yeah, i know, should be fore-head, but, i'm just showing the 'scottish' version and while were talking scottish, what's with the 'independance' thing? look, get over it, you scot's can't do it on your own, alex, have a chat with yourself, do the sum's, you might have watched 'braveheart' too many times, you need us, the ENGLISH, we need you too, for, ehh, well, well, something, not sure what though, apart from bitching and moaning about us English] the heavy, horrible headlight mountings get consigned to the bin, mr file and mr emery removing the horrible casting's from the forkleg's, here's some dates for your diary, the loveless race team, [aka, me and dangerous] will be at the british historic racing test day at cadwell park on friday, 28th march, racing at darley moor, the thundersprint, on saturday and sunday, the 10th and 11th of may, feel free to come along, drink tea, eat biscuits and take the piss, we are booked in for the classic tt / manx gp too, august 22nd to the 28th, more dates to follow, 'dangerous, look out!' ooop's, too late.......

and if i fall.......

'blue peter' john noakes, valerie singleton and peter purvis, tea-time for little loveless consisted of a kraft-cheese triangle sandwich on white bread, finely sliced tomatoes and a bag of ready-salted crisps, i was the original 'latch-key' kid me, my old man working stupid hour's as a fitter at the local printing works, my mum working two-jobs, dinner lady at the local primary school and afternoon's at the 'mini-boutique' ladies fashion emporium, home from school, let the dog out for a pee and tv on, three channel's back then, bbc, itv and bbc 2, imagine that now? a thousand and one channels and nothing worth watching on any of them, but, back to blue peter, amazing what you can make out of some old washing-up bottles and cardboard, still stuck with me even to this day, why cut precious stock when you can mock it up using an old cereal box? i like making stuff me, but, sometimes, my head get's turned, i'm a sucker for oberon part's, check out the shit o.e.m, pressed tin clutch adjuster and compare it to the beautiful oberon item, lovely, have you ever seen the baby elephant, lulu, shitting all over the studio, live on tv and john noakes and the elephant keeper falling over in the mess? brilliant, check it out on you-tube.....

northern soul girl......

after checking my old mucker dave 'dog' william's marvellous 'whiteline psycho' blog out and his link for the boy pharell's latest hit tune 'happy' i went to bed, eh, well, 'happy',but then, somewhere, in that deep, sub-concious moment in the middle of the night, i realised how similar to an old northern soul tune it sounded like, ladies and gentleman, imagine my delight when i finally realised that it was the velvet hammer's, 'happy', a northern soul rarity, that was bugging me, even better, my favourite dancer, 'northern soul girl' had actually done a sound clash with both tunes, absolute brilliance, if you don't watch this and smile you ain't got no soul, the old geezer dancing along made my day, that's me that is..........

junk science

 another storm hit's us today, for the third day running, eighty mph wind's and yet more torrential rain, falling on already sodden ground, thank the prophet mohammed, or jesus or buddha or kurt cobain, or ronald mcdonald, or steve jobs or the chuckle brother's or whatever god you follow, that we live on 'badger-hill' or 'hale-brock', as i walk ted. the j.r terrier, [my other boy, gus, is making slow progress after his major surgery and is limited to three, five-minute walk's a day. just enough for six pee's and a dump and two attempt's to nail the neighbour's cat] the earth is literally moving under my feet, the ground so wet that there's no grip to be found, as i gaze up at the chevin, over the other side of the amber valley, i can see the 'W W 1' carved into the hillside and try to imagine what it must have been like for the tommy's in the trench's, living amongst the human filth, dead bodies and squalor of war, frozen with cold and fear, shell-shocked and suffering with malnutrition and trenchfoot, ordered to go 'over the top' to face certain death at the hand's of the well entrenched german machine gun's, or, shot for cowardice if you didn't. by a nineteen year old public schoolboy, 'officer' the working class, alway's touching our fore-lock's and uttering 'good morning sir' know your place scum! the expendable's? yep, that's us  and then? there's me moaning about getting wet taking the dog for a walk in the 'inclement' weather, talk about a reality check, i feel humbled when i think about the sacrifice of my fore-father's, what they endured so we can, eh, well, bitch about the slow internet connection, the roadworks on our journey to work, amazon not delivering our frappucino machine on time and a drop of rain, in february, made some progress on the 'false' triumph, front caliper mounted and finished, rear cagiva mito caliper, 'mr muscled' and cup-brushed, just need to figure out how to mount it, might try and use the o.e.m triumph bracket, nothing to lose, if i fuck it up, well, no-one died did they..............?

blood on the tracks

idiot wind..........................