Halfway house

So how the hell did it come to be June? Guess I missed that meeting too. Suppose I aught to do some of that taking stock rubbish that we always do. Are things moving on? Am I just as mired in crap as I always am? Well, I seem to have got twice as much to do; the house is full of chuff I've moved up for storage from south and I've now got two bikes to fix in the drive and not just the one. Hey ho. That last one in itself is not a bad thing; the Death Machine Mk.1 (aka "Bug") is out of the shed and on the maintenance ramp and may actually be up and running before the Mile Eater; although I've only ever planned to keep it as a commuter, at least I'd be mobile again. Hey ho. I miss my two wheels. And the fact is, you can have revvy fun with that Yamaha engine that with the Kwakker would rocket you into the nearest big obstruction like a big read splat.

But then again, some of the bigger hassles that plague me are finally in a position to be crushed, yes, CRUSHED. I like that word. Very bloke. And then I can work on the others. Yay. So maybe June is a good place to be. But it's still way too bloody early. And on that note, we're halfway through the week already and I'd only just gotten used to the weekend? A visit from TWM, and The Man Tuberculosis from the Flatlands means a spontaneous beer evening and a cider night respectively, and neither are good for your correspondent. Ran into a fair proportion of idiocy but the chaps who stood at the bar next to me in the Barge dressed as Borat (in his green swimming cozzy phase) were fairly memorable - I'd say that dressing like that, they had more balls than me but I'm not so sure that's true. Hmmm, I typed that last bit as "no so sure it's true". Shit, I'm turning Scottish. Lock up your money! Ginger hair! Ginger hair!

Oh, and for those that queried? The "Testing" post. It was just to see if this "post via remote email" function was working; Blogger once said that it was, but fibbed. Now it's dandy again. Yay.