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Looking at that pair in your piccy bret, I got wondering.
Which one is more well knownerer?
Which one has more power?
Which one has more influence?
Which one is more likely to save the planet?
As for, gettin' on yer bike, sadly it is not for me.
I was a keen cyclist in my yoof, then a biker, but now I fear even a bike powered by electrickery would be beyond me.
My balance has never been particularly good, but now with all my medical problems, and the side effects of my meds, I doubt I would be able to stay upright for very long.
I was once clocked at 55mph on my pushbike, but 60mph under full steam now would be far too fast for me and still remain in control.
It's a shame; I would enjoy a nice ride around the country, exploring nooks and crannies and places I can't get to by car, and it's nothing to do with getting to dress up in lycra.
now yest you slow down a minute me old muccker - I've had a chat to spottie and we reckon we can rig up a sidecar and attach it to the bomber version which will give us all a level ground speed of 6 knots withe the wind behind - now if you could bring a map; three sleepin bags and a foldaway tent we should be fine - and stir from pub to pub from east to west - spottie is bringin the theodalight for night vision! - oh and fruitcase you are the camera man ok - cos Mr Jem will be wanted to know wot weez been up to wiv his thread right?
Great spiots- know where did that fruity man go - we gotta get goin before the bloody crowds start spillin out the mosques heh? - got any good ideas were we could head for the night and bevouac near a stream and a pub? you know the parts spits - a few ales and a handburgher round a fire side heh?
oh here he is wanderin around like a lost kangaroo in a paddock - common fruits where goin on an adventure of a lifetime - hmm maybe be the last one who knows?
God, if only Sur rons were available in 74, couldn't have afforded a bastard.
Weeze goin to need bikes bret, but we is too long in the tooth to pedal, I'll take you and Fruity on a pub crawl, but will avoid the Hostelry's where the ghosts reside.
God, if only Sur rons were available in 74, couldn't have afforded a bastard.
Weeze goin to need bikes bret, but we is too long in the tooth to pedal, I'll take you and Fruity on a pub crawl, but will avoid the Hostelry's where the ghosts reside.
bikes thought we'd just ave em for show - you said you bought a van ? - fruity where's ya be mon? stop all this kissin cousin stuff well ya - it boys w/end fgs
Trikes. How about a nice trike with a gert big electrickery pack and boot space for all the kit, primus stove, mess tins, and 5kg catering sized tins of beans.
All we would need is a supply of snorkers and we would be set.
I've seen some big wheel mobility trikes, including tandem versions. Very smart looking they are.
I'm sure Mr Fire could tweak them too increase speed and range.
As for missing out haunted pubs, "I ain't afraid of no ghosts."
We know a song about that don't we children?
I wandered lonely, as a Scribbler
Never too Gritty, just a nibbler
Sitting patiently upon the shelf
Making public notes "to self"
I wonder who put the leisure in Scribble
I wonder who stole the liquid in Widdle
One day there'll be another new name
With a song that just remains the same
I see your still a dab hand with the verse Spitty.
Oh what a great time we had in Wexford, I feel like a new man, the fresh sea air has revived me and shaken all those months of lock down city dust away, yes the pair of us badly needed that break, and the weather was fantastic too.
I could go on for hours about the birds a twittering in the trees, bees buzzing from flower to flower, waving fields of corn, silver salmon leaping merrily in the clear rivers, but I won’t, who needs foreign travel when I have all this practically at my doorstep, hopefully many more country breaks to come this year.
So you can throw what you like at me lads, I can take it, I’m in such good spirits I wouldn’t say shoo to a fly.
******
A fella I know from my younger days, I’ll call him Milo Byrne for anonymity’s sake, is a retired Wexford businessman who buried his wife five years ago, I hadn’t seen him since the funeral until he dropped into the pub I use most when down there, it was me last day in the town and I was delighted to meet him again, God love him he’s very lucky in business but unlucky with women, he was only three years married when his second wife was killed in a car crash, he has no children.
He was telling me about a dating site he was using and of a lovely youngish widowed English lady he befriended there.
They started getting serious and he invited her over to live with him in his big country house.
He says he was ‘in love’, silly old git, he even bought an expensive new wig to look younger for her, just as well, the old one looked as though it had the mange, sure there’s nothing as ridiculous as a 70 odd year old geezer head over walking stick ‘in ‘love’ with a woman young enough to be his daughter, some old lads just never seem to cop on to themselves.
Anyway to make a fat story thin, she was from some part of the English midlands, he mentioned the place but I forget it, and she said that if he heard her accent he wouldn’t understand a word she said.
Then Milo being the charmer he always was, typed back to her.
“But my darling it’s only the voice of your soul I want to hear”
Jaysus Christ!, where did he get that corny line from I wondered, I had to smother a laugh by getting out a tissue and pretending to cough.
Anyway his charm did the trick and she was over on the next available flight.
He should have kept his big mouth shut, turns out she had a bad gambling problem and had him pestered for money every day, horses, dogs, lottery tickets, online poker, you name it and she had a bet on it, something had to be done quick of he’d be heading for the poorhouse gate.
He eventually worked out a financial deal with her, gave her a five figure payoff and she agreed to go back home.
That was the end of Milo’s visits to dating sites, well so he says.
Now wouldn’t you think a 70 odd year oul fella would have more sense than to be chasing young widows and him after burying two wives?, I told him to enjoy his freedom and his few bob and don’t be inviting trouble on himself, ah sure ya might as well be talkin to the wall.