this is england

this is england. cold, wet, dull. long nights and short days. football is a welcome distraction at this time of year. losing to our bitter rivals, forest, last week gutted me, came home from the match and went sraight to bed, my phone ringing and the filth giving it me big-time, e-mails galore and yet, i have so many links with the scutty neighbours, [who wear green tights, robins best mate is a bald headed monk and they run around robbing the rich to pay the poor] red-dog-rob, grant, spence, med, bramcote kev, you-two tony, drug-free fee, tyrone, pally, derek the dalek, gaz, the shaw brothers, gunny, julie, national front neville, [relax, he's a black bloke, long story, the only black skinhead in nottingham to join a racist gang] fuck off you wankers! so, you beat us and we were playing chesterfield in the cup today, [and we beat them two-nil and are through to the next round and you were playing? oh yeah, no one, you got knocked out!
     back to motorbikes, my shock turned up mid-week, realm engineering, ram shock, bespoke made shock, beautifully engineered, made to suit my weight at a fraction of the cost of an aftermarket shock, check them out at http://www.realmengineering.com/ anodized fittings, deep powdercoated spring, 13 click pre-load adjustment, just a thing of beauty. got a lovely suprise too, a jiffy bag full of stainless fasteners from long term followers of the blog rich and sarah, we have never met in person, [though dangerous got 'school-boyed' by them at stafford a couple of years ago, 'excuse me, are you dangerous dave?' 'yes, i am' say's dave,[rich kneel's down and sarah pushes him over] serves the twat right i say! so, out in the shed feeling good about the world and the bonneville kicks me in the bollocks, batteries fucked, more expense, that cllllll, cllll, ccchhhh, noise, love this bike though, already i'm thinking about scrapping the unecessary 'down-tubes' the cradle is redundant from day one, put there to mimick the original, we can save loads of weight, i checked out the bonneville performance race bikes and they don't run them, 'ahh, mr hacksaw, i've been expecting you.......'

ladybird books

must admit, it's very rare that i actually buy a daily newspaper, i tend to scan the online versions, my favourite is probably the guardian, yesterdays issue featured the artwork of the legendary 'ladybird' books, i was immediately transported back in time to an age of innocence, a time before quantitavite easing, internet, mobile phones and the pressure of being a 'grown-up' a time when you had to catch a bus into town and buy a record from a record shop, on something called 'vinyl' if you wanted to listen to music, a time when you had three channels on tv, a time when we had power-cut's, strikes and you went to butlins for a week if you were lucky, a time when you saw your dad on a sunday afternoon because the rest of the time he was working to get you a weeks holiday at butlins. i've always been able to read, or so it seems, i will read the label on the brown-sauce bottle, i suppose i haven't really, i guess someone taught me along the way, way back in those halycon day's of endless summer holidays and cold, snowy winters. ladybird books played a part in my education, from pond-life to the admiral nelson, easy to digest and artwork that will stay with me until i punt off this mortal coil, one of these books is a very naughty, but very funny pastiche of the classic books, you will have to look hard to find it i'm sure........

it's a dirty job, [but someone's got to do it]

fuel injection, whoa, harry potter shit, only ever worked on bikes with carbs before, [ok, the last ducati i had was a fuelie but all i ever had to do was change the oil and adjust the chain] this was a job i've been dreading, but, i was pleasantly suprised, very few moving parts and a night with some scotchbrite and we are good to go, the more time i spend in the shed, the less i want to venture outside......

bedside manners are extra

so, the build continues and i sink into further minutea, turning fasteners to resemble titanium from the pro-bolt catalogue, i needed some of the period correct 'showa racing service' stickers for the fork leg lowers, eventually tracked them down to lamb-shank, illinois, spent two weeks cleaning up the engine covers and still not satisfied, sent them off for blasting and powdercoating, an age cleaning out threads, jointing surfaces and re-mounting stator's, bearings, blah, blah, blah. why bother? well, it's for real, if you want the easy option go and get someone to build your bike for you, it's a lot less hassle ain't it gary?

insert hipster buzz word here

right, after a lot of soul searching, 'shall i nuke the blog and disappear into the ether?' i have finally decided to keep on keeping on. i've sold all my copies of 'dice' 'sideburn' and 'greasy kulture' [something six months ago i said i would never do] i've raised a handsome profit to put back into my own projects and i feel a lot better for doing it too. this blog has always been about sharing stuff with people, experiences, builds, bikes, good times, bad times and the time in-between where i, er, walk the dogs, go to football, play old vinyl or go to work. that's it. a lot of people have lost their way. pound notes cloud their vision, [fifteen quid coat-hangers? fifteen quid key-fob's, hand tooled of course] 'limited edition' t-shirt run's? fuck off! any respect i had for the 'independent' magazines disappeared when my comment's were deleted from 'their' blog's, you don't need some 'cool' mag to tell you what's cool, what's 'essential' and what's trendy. hipster shops, [who, just happen's to stock 'our' magazine by the way] tell's you what to think. they steal ideas and pass them off as their own, they don't have a clue! fuck them and the donkey they rode in on, 'support the independent's' yeah, whatever, the 'independent's' aren't selling 'merch' to punters, they are still out there being a thorn in the side of the wankers, wannabe's and barbour jacketed media lovey's. i would rather spend my time, emotion and money with the dirty finger-nailed, tattooed, rigger-booted, fucking hooligan scum-bags who are actually building stuff in shed's, outhouses, or, under a tarp in the backyard! hello, hello, i'm back again........

ducati track bike project, [the peaky blinder]

sometimes, always........................................................................................