It's a glorious day, watch some b*stard ruin it

Nicest day of the year. Blue skies, sunshine, good heat, nice! Stuck at the challenge point this morning with the Boorish Bore, but I managed to keep on top of him, so that wasn't a problem. Started to get wound up on their team's lack of professionalism though; and then got grouchy about my own's, ignoring basic health and safety, common sense and not taking any notice when it's pointed out to them. Looking forward to the change around in April, it seems I'm the only person who is. The core of my lot have been together since basic training; I've got little credibility and not much respect with them; it doesn't help that the old Black Dog's had a pretty good grip on me in places in the last crappy year. Isn't really fair of them, as I'm actually pretty bloody good at my job, but they're a tough knuckle to crack and frankly I've never rated them as worth the effort. Teams come, teams go, I know that, but it's a shock for them. Never mind eh. Anyway... otherwise, a very nice day ensued, was overflown by a couple of F-15 Strike Eagles at very low altitude, presumably coming off the coastal bombing ranges. Used to see that sort of thing all the time as a kid and as a teen back home, but not so nowadays, it's a rare treat. I swore they were so low I could smell Kerosene but I suspect the mind was playing tricks.

DVLA are having a damned good go at spoiling my mood though. The old Deathmachine, living in the shed hasn't been run since 2001; it's kept on the basis that "I'll get it running one of these days". I "SORN" it every December, for the unvehicle'y, this is the doccument you send off instead of taxing your bike. Can't run the bike, but it notifies the centre that it's offroad and legal. Just whack the form in the post when they send it out, bish bosh, done. Sorted. Which I did at the time. Of course, it seems that the form either got lost in the post, or lost by DVLA. They've never gotten it where they need it, and have just fined me forty quid, the bastards.
A phone call solved nothing, other than the fact that I apparently am supposed to monitor them to make sure they're doing their job properly, therefore I expect to see them lay off all their managers in the next savings review. Hells teeth, that's old fashioned, blank faced civil service arrogance and other than going down to their collections department with a couple of petrol bombs and a crossbow, there's damn all I can do about it. Which is why I've now got a mark on my kitchen wall and a badly bruised right hand. Temper, temper.