Friday, 2 December 2016

Hell's angle

Sitting at the traffic lights tonight on my less than manly scooter, the other one that works, at least for the moment, a biker pulled up beside me. With a peanut helmet and beard down to his knees he certainly looked the part. Jeans that hadn't been washed, well ever, and a ragged Harley Davidson leather jacket, proved that he meant business. And from the fearless expression on his face the lack of goggles showed me that he sneered, nay scoffed at insects or other flying debris impacting his exposed eyelids. After glaring at me just once he turned back to wait for the green light, then roared off.
    The only thing to mar this display of rampant manhood was the tiny little Honda 125 on which he sat that even my scooter could have blown away. I considered doing it just from spite but didn't want to ruin his day. 
    I get my now fixed hog back tomorrow. I discovered what was wrong with it but still haven't got a price. Wait for my scream about 11.00 UK time when they tell me.

Monday, 28 November 2016

It never rains.

It's not raining; it's pouring.
    After spending several squillion pounds on my bike the other day I rode off to work today happy.
    Then I pushed it most of the way back - about six miles, because all the work they did to it last week, although necessary, was not the problem. If it turns out to be a broken spring I'm going to scream and scream until I'm sick.
    I've told them to tell me how much it will cost this time, before they begin, and if it's too much then I'll just write it off. I'm self employed and next week my annual tax bill arrives. I don't think my paltry little payment is going to keep blighty afloat for the next year but it's a lot to me and I can't spend every penny I haven't got paying tax or throwing it away on an eight year old scooter.
   Alright, rant over.

    I hope you all had a great day.

Sunday, 27 November 2016

I had a different kind of black Friday

Almost an anti-Black Friday if you like.

    I don't ride a real man's bike anymore. I have a scooter. When I had a bike I used to do all the servicing and repairs myself, but with scooters it's a lot harder as it required a little less time to construct the Titanic than it does to haul off all the plastic to replace a stupid little £1.50 light bulb. 
    So I let them do it.
    It needed two sets of brake pads, but as I only have single discs fore and aft, £40 quid each I thought.
    A new rear brake disc, and I know that only costs £60.
    A new drive belt. £80. 
    So, add an hour or so's labour for a max price of about £350 and my daughter (alleged) still gets a good Christmas.
    Five hundred quid.
    I could almost have bought another scooter for that!

   I just went down to PC World, missing the sales by about twenty seconds and bought an external hard drive roughly the size of the brick I lobbed at Mr fox the other night. I'm going to back everything up on my clockwork PC. So, as my USB 3 socket's kaput, I'll be back in about three weeks.

    They're looking a little jaded but still going strong.

Friday, 25 November 2016

Me and the fox - again.

I discovered the local dog fox taking a...well you can guess what on my flowers tonight. As it's always dark here I suppose he thought it was night time. Only a badly aimed brick saved the flowers and his spine from serious damage. Although I will have to explain to her indoors why there's now a large brick- shaped dent in our front lawn.

    I missed black Friday today as I was working. It's a pity really since my tablet chose this day to croak, and my phone chose this day to croak, and my computer backup chose this day to find it's way into my daughter's room, electing to be used to store her rubbish music. Now I'll have to do it all over again, but as my files have grown to 83 Gb I'll have to go to the computer shop the day after black Friday, when the prices shoot up to unheard heights to buy a flash drive the size of my house, and as my super fast USB 3 drive chose this day to croak I bet it will take my USB 2 drive until the next millennium to back it all up. 

    I'm sensing a trend here. 

    I might use tomorrow's trip to PC World to buy myself a notebook - the kind with pages. I wrote my first three novels with a pen. I could get used to it again. And the next time the dog fox comes 'a calling, I can chuck my useless computer at it.

Monday, 21 November 2016

I almost did, but then I didn't

I uploaded A Little Twist to Amazon and finally relaxed. Then today it came back with a single spelling mistake.
    On the basis that I've never read an entire book in my life without at least half a dozen mistakes I was going to leave it. But now, exiled to my study while wife and (alleged ) daughter watch the Living Dead, I took the time to correct the mistake and upload it again. I know it was only one mistake but I'm glad I did it. Now I just have to find a way of temporarily disabling the TV when The Boring-Tedious-Most annoying Dead comes on the next time.
    Am I the only one on the planet who finds that programme the absolute worstest? They ran out of plots about twenty five series ago and now just introduce more people just so they can kill them off.
   That's me: Corporal Gruntfuttocks, as my daughter calls me.

Saturday, 19 November 2016

This time I'm doing something I've been meaning to do for four years.

My first collection of stories was really just an experiment to see if I could actually pull off the self publishing biz. And although I'm still proud of the stories in A Little Twist, ever since 2012 I've been meaning to do another edit. But with so many books to write, and publish, I never got around to it even though sales have been unspectacular but steady.
    Now I've finally begun. Thus far I haven't found too many mistakes, but what I did discover was my earlier attempts at fluent dialogue. What a load of old rubbish; so I'm glad I did it. 
    Thus within the next twenty four hours I should be able to upload the new version and get back to Kongomato 4. I still think it's one of my best covers. 

    It's two degrees above zero outside and yet those little flowers are still going strong. I could do with whatever my wife is feeding them.

Saturday, 12 November 2016

So, anyway, dad.

I may have mentioned this before but now my daughter (allegedly) is taking it to extremes.
    Unlike my wife I can't remember what she was talking about on Feb 3rd 1987 at 2pm precisely, even though she apparently can. Neither can I remember what I was wearing on Thursday the same day, or even more importantly, what she was wearing. I'm only mortal - in fact I'm only a man and incapable of such feats. And I can't rejoin a conversation we were having at any particular moment in our soon to be 34 years of marriage, unlike she who must be feared.
    Now my daughter is having a go at it.
    Yesterday: "So, anyway, dad - can I?"
    I thought long and hard as she waited impatiently, humming and sighing and staring at me as if I was the biggest imbecile on the planet. Eventually after about ten minutes I came up with the perfect answer, and one I'm going to use again. 
    "I distinctly remember telling you - absolutely not."
    I haven't a clue as to what she's talking about but I think that's pretty unequivocal.
    I'll use that on my wife the next time she tries to dredge something from what passes for my brain after nearly half a century.
    I'll show them.

I finally finished my picture. She still doesn't like it.