Moron spotting

Not sure who takes the prize for today; the drunken romantic type in ASDA who got a smack around the chops from his other half in the aisles for calling her a scrubber in front of everyone, then grinningly repeating it; or the fat woman at Donna Nook bombing range who completely failed to take any notice of the perfectly visible warning signs....

... like that one, then strolled her fat arse and her fat kids down the beach to have a good look at the targets while the red flag fluttered in the breeze and a jet flew around the circuit. Could have seen Darwin in action there! Sometimes my exercises in people watching really make me dispair for the human race!

A quiet afternoon ensued, very little on the range... seems they're doing missile countermeasure trials there this week; a Lynx helicopter spent the time strolling around chucking flares out of the back; an RAF 146 VIP airliner spent forever strolling around the circuit doing whatever it does to protect itself.... certainly didn't involve anything I could see. Some folks might like watching miliitary men play with their choppers, but personally I got bored and went home. Five hours later I'm still fishing thunderflies out of my ears and hair. Gah!

And the bike's up on blocks. Treated myself to a blat up to Squires with a mate on Saturday; had a good letch around the car park at the two wheeled hotness on display; the biggest single rideout of Suzuki Bandit's I've ever seen... must have been a Bandit Owners Club bash or something; could have gone home at this point but I had the afternoon still so pressed on and got as far as Scarborugh which I realise to my shock I've not been to in fifteen years. OW!!!! Lads holiday in 1993; unsuccessful flirtation with a barmaid called Nicky, fifteen pints a day and a daily curry for seven straight days. Ow !! It's been on my visit list since I've been living up here; never gotten around to it, but it's supposed to be very bike friendly and indeed it does have free bike parking bays all along the seafront. Except that in between York and there, my speedo broke, which when you're riding a litrebike and there's as many speed traps as there are, could be a problem. The problem is simply one of metal fatigue. The small metal bit that connects the doings has snapped. Bound to happen sometime. Techically the bike has now done over fifty thousand miles. This is some kind of milestone. Of course, the clock only reads 49,923, about a hundred miles ago when everything stopped working. I feel I should mark this somehow. Speeding ban??????