Category Archives: The Great Escape

on any tuesday

You’re rather lucky to have a Piqued today, if that’s your want.

Whilst I’m an enormous fan of motorcycles I am aware that there is a certain danger aspect involved in their usage, this isn’t usually down to the motorcyclist per se I hasten to add. Even after years of prangs and near misses I still get a little upset when it comes to motorists trying to kill me but today’s incident(s) even next to the yardstick of my experience, beggars belief. In the space of 20 seconds I was nearly knocked off 3 times by 3 different four-wheeled fucks.

I was approaching a crossroads on the outside of a queue of vehicles as the lights changed, one of those homosexual pick up things with a name like MACHOGRRR suddenly performed a U turn and I performed an emergency stop, not a simple operation at the best of times but as I was now in the centre of the road this procedure was conducted on shale, so the bike slid in a most uncongenial fashion and I missed the bastard by centimetres. I leant on my horn, revved the shit out of the engine and used expletives, the fairy driving looked suitable shaken and weakly apologised so I moved off over the junction.

Due to my noise and display of accident avoiding skills the traffic had stopped to gawp so I crossed the junction ahead of all the wankers in cars where I narrowly missed a white van who’d jumped the lights to my left and to my fucking horror another one coming in the other direction who’d taken it on himself to turn right across my path, for the third time I had to brake hard as the van whisked in front of me leaving a hairs width gap. This time I went apeshit, holding up the queue behind, slap bang in the centre of the junction and I issued a complicated statement of gestures and dark language to all the fucking cars in the world before setting off with my rear wheel spinning, still shouting. By the time I arrived here I felt physically sick and needed a quiet sit down to process my remarkable escape from being spread over south London like angry Marmite.

I had a totally unremarkable Monday; Myfwt still in the throes of smoking abstinence has decided being around me isn’t assisting her cause so she stayed at her gaff whilst I yawned myself to death in mine. I was saved by two glasses of wine and another viewing of ‘On Any Sunday’ a delicious 1970’s documentary on motorcycle racing in the USA. Apart from being beautifully shot it features, in passing, Steve McQueen who had more than passing talent on a bike (btw he didn’t perform the jump in The Great Escape as the studio wouldn’t allow it, that was a chap called Bud Ekins, though McQueen was more than capable though on the strength of watching his talents in the film) and the whole thing is a homage to how jolly wonderful it is to ride. I’m not sure how non-bike fans would enjoy it and frankly I don’t give a shit.

Today’s youtube offing was recorded in one take. Apparently they were introduced to each other and after barely speaking a word the cameras rolled, they became lovers after they wrapped then split acrimoniously some months later and both featured the other on their next albums.

recycle Jackie

Once a week the chaps from the council come along to collect the recyclables. We are provided with two bins per household (meaning I have to share with Cunt) a purple one for plastic and tins (which is pathetic because the former can only be recycled by type not generically –still, I chuck all my plastic in anyway, just in case it won’t wind up in a landfill) and a green one for bottles and newspapers.

Last night at about 11pm Cunt decided to recycle his stuff, something he doesn’t usually bother doing because he’s a dribbling gitprong, so, of course instead of popping it quietly in the fucking bin like a normal human he stands a few feet away and throws each item in one by one, just so the whole of fucking south London knows of his benevolence to humanity. This morning when I came down one bin was full of the remnants of fine wines and broadsheets, the other full of tins of Stella Artois and Carling and a single copy of last Thursday’s Sun.

I had a pleasant evening, met up with Frank in the local for a couple of chocolaty ales and a couple of tabs in the marquee out back, before returning home for a luxury bath in which I was able to submerge my sweet little head without fear of winding up like that bloke in the John Betjeman Poem with the egg shaped head and crap tie. I ate supper, steamed broccoli and the other Chicken Kiev I bought last week, it wasn’t very nice to be honest, never again, as I watched Gordon Ramsey doing his magicians act for some cunts in Wales.

At some point between acts, an advert appeared on TV for ‘Jackie, the Album’. Jackie was a girl’s magazine in the 70’s, it was aimed at girls older than my sister but my mate Paul had a sister who was just the right age. We used to ‘borrow’ her copy primarily to read the problem pages, first time I ever saw the phrase ‘smelly discharge’ and I nearly died laughing, I digress, I was just leaving the room to get some more wine when I was forced back to listen to the featured tracks. It was like being stunned with a nostalgia gun, one of the songs my granny used to sing to me, another I’d not heard since the long drought of 1976, another one I really liked but didn’t know who the fuck the band was… I must have it in my possession, sod the fact that it will be the gayest thing I’ve ever had, ever. Even gayer than Eddie Izzard kissing the tiny face of a weeping fairy sat on a daisy.

After the News and an Alan P on Dave I became bored. It was too early for bed and too late to get steaming so I challenged myself to a top ten, (this was possibly a reaction to Jackie, the Album?)

I’d had two pints and two wines and thought it was only fair that in two minutes I spontaneously regurgitated my top ten favourite films. Being a tad tipsy one is a little more honest than one would be if, say, cavorting about the NFT of an afternoon stone cold sober. Besides, when one is a wee bit pissed every minute seems longer (and more bearable). So here it is, unedited and as it came out. I was rather surprised by the lack of zombies.

Withnail and I
Fight Club
Back to the Future 2
10 Rillington Place
The Great Escape
North by Northwest
Kind Hearts and Cornonets
Annie Hall

Now you try, if you’ve any balls you can post them as a comment, but no cheating…

Or u di

(sorry about this)