http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/ TRC is a UK motorbike forum community, it also provides motorbike blogs, free uk motorbike classifieds, motogp discussions, motorbike reviews, motorbike articles and much more en Wed, 19 Jun 2013 22:39:04 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/customstyles/default/images/misc/rss.jpg http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/ http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1178-real-reason-holmes-chose-watson-poirot-suffered-astings-etc.html Tue, 18 Jun 2013 09:47:49 GMT Yesterday was not a good one & once again I was drawn over to this lonely corner of the site to talk about it. However I had to do dinner & all manner of other things so I mulled it over in my head. I could have banged it all down as a stream of consciousness as a ‘news as it happens’ feed, but not much of it would have made sense without context, aspirations for the future & some technical explanations. And as so often happens, it’s when you’re arranging sequences, time lines & how best to convey matters to a blank sheet of paper, that certain things fall into place in their real significances. Sort of like lining your ducks up, but then changing the order & perhaps seeing that one wasn’t as fat a bird as you 1^st thought, another has only one wing, & that there is an interloper which looks like a duck, but goes woof rather than farts. And perhaps they don’t need shooting-well not all of them!

And so it is that Holmes’s 3 pipe problem was really an excuse to smoke a lot & perhaps get ratted on the brandy on his own for an evening, whilst he’d already worked out whodunnit whilst attempting to explain it to ‘thicky’ Watson. Poirot achieves much the same, but has the added benefit of looking really smart in front of the ladeez compared to his cerebrally challenged Captain. Not something that mattered to Sherlock, but that’s for speculation another day. What we can confidently say, is that to look good simply stand next to the one who fell out of the ugly tree.

There you go-problem reduced to manageable proportions & you didn’t even have to suffer it! It’s good to talk, sure, & little is better than chatting with someone who knows you well & what you do. You can go very fast, cover a lot of ground but sometimes it pays significant dividends to travel much slower & inspect elements you might have previously assumed to be a farting duck.

I’ve told the story before of my strange friend who was fond of stating that ‘you Ed are a whetstone for my incisive intellect.’ Thing is, you got that whetstone inside your own head.

What’s yours called?! ]]> Editor http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1178-real-reason-holmes-chose-watson-poirot-suffered-astings-etc.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/spitfire/1177-i-hate-having-ring-my-head-office.html Tue, 04 Jun 2013 13:18:47 GMT I fell out with one of the girls at my head office a few months back. I was new and not sure of some things so I rang... I fell out with one of the girls at my head office a few months back. I was new and not sure of some things so I rang for advice and got some condesending little jumped up bitch who took great delight in belittling me over the phone. Being the wall flower that I am, she got it with both barrels. Five mins later my area manager is on the phone telling me that she had put in a complaint about me being rude. ??? Trust me I took about five miins of personality assasination before I faught back. She, in my mind, started it. I admitted that maybe I did go over board but she wants to sort out her phone manner. Anyway the long of it was, I wasn't in trouble.

Today! I ring head office as I needed a phone number which I couldn't find in my office. I get a new girl. Conversation goes something like this.

Hiya, it's XYZ school. Was wondering if you could help me. I need a number for the fruit man that brings the free school fruit. Hes not delivered any since returning from school hols.

'Oh, have you not got his number?'

'No, Sorry, I've not had cause to ring them before so never had the number'

She then rattles off a number that is for our weekly fruit and veg.

To which I say.
'Oh sorry, that looks like the number I use to buy my fruit and veg. I need the number for the FREE fruit'

'You never said that!'

'Erm sorry, maybe I didn't make myself clear. I need the number for the free fruit'

'That's nothing to do with us, the school deals with it, you'll have to speak to them'

'ok, thanks for you help. I'll get on to them'

And I hang up.

Five minutes later my area manager is on the phone asking if I'm ok. To which I say 'Yup, tickety boo!' She then tells me head office have been on the phone and have put in a complaint about me being rude. 'But I wasn't rude???' to which she said 'well in future try not to sound rude when you talk to them..........'


YOU FUCKING WHAT!!!!!! (I didn't say that last bit to her) I just told you I wasn't rude and still you tell me not to be rude.

Someone has got in for me at head office. So now in future I'm going to talk to them in one of those really annoying singsong voices. You know the type, airhead, barbie!!! ]]> Spitfire http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/spitfire/1177-i-hate-having-ring-my-head-office.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/kebab-the-cat/1172-learning-lead-climb.html Tue, 07 May 2013 12:49:03 GMT Jumping Jesus on a blue bendy bicycle I've never been so scared in all my days.
Sunday, I'm leading a traditional climb graded Very Severe. A combination of a difficult start and some loose rock means I'm pumped and shitting it, lobbing loads of (unnecessary) protection into the rock. Anyway, I'm flapping a bit, thinking of the fall, thinking about crumbly rock and shit protection.. I'm about 10 metres from the finish point - which is a small tree/shrub growing straight out of the cliff. I find a nice place for one of my last couple of nuts, I put it in, give it a yank and it feels reassuringly solid. I reach round to grab a quickdraw from my rack to clip into it, and I haven't got any left. I've used them all. Fuck.
Fuck.
Fucketty Fuck.
OOooooOOOo Fuck.
I've got the one crab that I had my nuts racked on, so I clip that in and put the rope through it.

But that's it. No more protection until the finish, which looks to be about 8 metres away. So if I don't make it, I'm looking at a 16 metre fall, before the rope even starts to go tight, and that's only if this flaky shit protection stays in.

I had to have a bit of a word with myself, calm the fuck down and make a decision. Come off here, and accept a small fall onto shit gear, or push on to the finish, where I can get a sling round a tree and safely belay up my second who can retrieve all my gear?

So I push on, shitting myself and trying not the think about it. The climbing isn't very tough, really, but the gripping fear is pretty difficult to deal with.

I have never been so happy to get a sling round a shitty half-dead bush at the top of a cliff. I sit there, hanging off a sling round this bush, and look at the view over the trees and across the valley. I'm not dead.

I sort out a belay device on another sling round the bush, and invite my second to come up.

Nigel, my second, scampers up the cliff with no worries, collecting all the protection on the way. But he does notice the big gap between the last bit of gear the belay point. He raises his eyebrow at me.
"Ran out of quickdraws" I say, as calmly as possible, trying hard not to let the adrenaline show, gazing at Tintern abbey across the valley.
"Perhaps you might want to buy a few more?" he suggests.
"Perhaps" I grin.

We quickly arrange an abseil off, and within minutes I'm back on the ground with all the gear.

I'm not honestly sure if this stuff is fun, or if it's just fun to finish doing it. Massive doses of adrenaline, clarity of thought and purpose, and an absolutely enormous sense of success when it's done. ]]> Kebab The Cat http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/kebab-the-cat/1172-learning-lead-climb.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1165-s-here.html Fri, 12 Apr 2013 07:57:06 GMT No batteries supplied >Instructions for...]]> The BP machine is mine for a week.
And already it's pissed me off :wtf: ;

>No batteries supplied
>Instructions for another model
>Cuff that only just squeezes over my guns ;D
>Out of date calibration

Christ on a bike that lot alone would send my blood pressure through the roof.

Hey ho, lets see what we see. ]]> mrlongbeard http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1165-s-here.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1161-glory-days.html Thu, 28 Mar 2013 15:18:33 GMT WTF is this? It’s not even half nine of a Thursday morning & the car park at Morrison’s is virtually full. And there’s all manner of nobbers slowly tooling about & taking half a dozen attempts at reversing in. Ah-could it be pension day? It would fit-it’s all older people. I’ve bagged my bit & sauntered in. I’m on orders not to return home for a couple of hours, & I’m deliberately a bit peckish so now seems like a good time to check out the Morrison’s Café for breakfast. Oh God no-I’ve got it now. Must be 2 for 1 on all café meals for OAPs-it’s even more rammed than the aisles. Sod this-I’m walking into town. But there’s no escape-it’s market day & there’s even more old fucks dawdling about. I’ve legged it & looked in at the butcher who does a cheap line in bacon or sossie rolls to go. The queue for that part is to the door-sod that too. It’s blardy freezing & unlike the wisdom of my elders I’ve not come out with any kind of hat, scarf or gloves so I’ve returned back to the warmth of Morrisons, hoping that old people’s systems need meals at their proscribed time, & unless they all need elevenses surely it must have thinned out.

Yay-I’m right. They do all need coffee & a bun or toast but there’s a lot less of them now. I’ve gone for the big brekkie, which is the same price as ‘award winning fish & chips’ & everything else you might want for lunch. I’ve asked why it seems to be sooo busy. ‘Easter isn’t it duck?’ What, all of them in on a Thursday? ‘Sure, but we are closed on Sunday.’ I still can’t fathom this. So I’ve given up & tucked in. Over the other side of the plastic ferned barrier an older couple are enjoying a leisurely conversation. The lady looks somewhat older than the man, but they’re not mother & son. I wonder what the relationship is? It’s an ace start to my earwigging session: ‘well of course they didn’t like that so they got hold of her, took her right to the back & rubbed her nose into it.’ Could it be a dog story?? ‘she went home with remnants of it still on her. I guess the girls were just trying to drag her into the 20^th Century, but even so. It’s how things were done then.’ Promising. Make up at school do you think?

The conversation then meanders via walking out with young men to the shops on Broad Street to houses & who lived in them. Both of them intimately know the area & have for some decades. ‘We had Bobby Aces next door to us-shared the same entrance. You remember Bobby-back then he had hair, & what hair he had! And he knew it-always fiddling with it. Such an easy going boy-all the girls loved him. Got that from his mam-she was an easy natured lady. Not his Dad though-he was a strict one. Come to think of it we had a lot of houses which had the council officials in them-like they wanted to live in the same row. Then there was the District Nurse, who in those days was always busy. And the midwife was there too. When the dentist, you remember him on Carolgate? Before he went there he set up in the midwife’s house. He’d just come out of the Navy & was wondering what to do & next minute he was in her front room. Have to remember that the nurse, midwife etc were all single in them days so they had some space. Ah well, best go into town now we’ve had our coffee.’ And off they went. People I’ll prob never meet again, talking about people I’ve never heard of, in a time when I wasn’t born. Memories of other people, just flitting by. I’d like to know what happened to the great Bobby Aces, what you did when you were demobbed & what their relationship was, but that’ll have to remain filed under ‘speculation.’ Meantime another much older but equally matched in age couple take their place..

‘What do you want to eat Terry?’ asks his wife. Terry is immaculately turned out with a new scarf tucked cravat like under his green waxed jacket. His thin white hair has a whiff of a quiff about it-I’m wondering if the cream teddy boys used might have left a permanent wave. ‘What do you want to eat Terry?’ she asks again. And repeats it three more times. Terry’s not very good with words. He can make a sort of plaintiff noise if he concentrates. ‘What do you want?’ asks the woman with some asperity & finality. I don’t know if she decoded one of Terry’s non-verbal responses, or if she’s simply decided that he’s having fish & chips. Because he is now. She’s wizzed away & returned with 3 trays of triangular sandwiches. Blimey she must be starving. But no, a much younger man joins them & sits opposite. That still leaves an extra tray-oh I see. She’s repeated that Tel’s fishy will be coming soon but perhaps he’d like one of these whilst he’s waiting. Again I wonder what the relationship between them all is. Perhaps it’s not his wife at all. I wonder if this might actually be some kind of live therapy for him? That would be nice, I think.

I don’t know if Terry will remember what he had for brunch. I’m not sure he quite knows his name or who the women is. I can see it’s taking him some considerable effort just to be. He’s doing better than I am, because I’ve been steam rollered by a colossal wave of melancholy with a despair undertow. I’ve looked across the barrier & caught our tel’s gaze. There’s not really anyone at home. Actually there might be, but the curtains are closed & the storm shutters are down. I’ve made my own plans long ago-I’ll be no burden to anyone & I feel relieved & fortunate to have done this. But nevertheless part of that journey returns in it’s original shapes of ‘is this it?’ ‘This is what the end looks like?’ ‘What if you don’t have anyone?’ What is the fucking point?’ To pinch a phrase off my film poster in my kitchen: ‘all those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.’ You know what Rutger says & does next.

I’ve cleared my plate & darted outside for a pull-yourself-together ciggy away from everyone. And I was watching the people walking in & out of the entrance of the supermarket & was transported back to a course I was once on, where the facilitator was taking about fears. ‘People can have some very odd things that make them afraid. Some of them might seem pretty irrational to just about every one of you. Some you might think some trivial or nonsensical. But to all those afraid people these matters are very real.’ She went on to tell a story. ‘I’m terrified of the automatic revolving doors at Morrison’s. I know they stop if you get so much as a foot too close to them, but I’m blardy spooked by them. The bloody things shit me right up-I’m getting the wobblies even just talking about them.’ What about other Terrys, who aren’t ‘just’ left in a state of impotent fog & need of care, but who are additionally afraid but have forgotten WTF shits them up & now live in a perpetual state of terror? I’ve seen this-I didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time but by our dad’s final stroke that’s how he spent the last year of his life. And loaves & fishes apart, there ain’t no healing for that.

I’m still a bit perplexed about this Easter crowd of old people. Morrison’s might well be closed on the Sunday, but all of this generation will remember a time not so very long ago when no bugger at all opened on a Sunday. You just planned for it. And very belatedly the penny has finally dropped. That’s exactly what they are doing because you don’t want to be old, unsteady & fragile & being barged out of the way by the crowds of Friday POETS**. As for shopping on a Saturday, any Saturday, that must be their idea of hell on earth. So Thursday it is so they get the freshest stuff for their traditional Easter observances, which looks to me like a nice possibly fish based meal with fresh veg & a small indulgence from the bakery, rather than taking full advantage of the offers down the booze section, the multi-buy in the freezers & several kilos of cheap egg shaped choco for your 4 day session. It’s me whose the odd one out-I shouldn’t be there on their day.

On a final note I did think that if you were of unsporting mind & in a mood to exact revenge for your impeded progress around the pastry section & someone’s wrinkled hand beating you to the last Hot Cross Bun fresh & warm from the bakery, you could play a few rounds of mousetrap with the revolving doors & the likes of dawdling Terry & his chums. If you get one that screams the house down that’ll be a slightly rotund lady with slowly advancing arthritis. Call her Jackie & ask her about the story about the dollies. You’ll like that one, not in the least because it’ll teach you something & it’ll get her off her own personal ceiling. Just be warned that one day it might be your turn to be the mouse & that might come sooner than you think.

** old gimmers’ term. Piss Off Early, Tomorrow’s Saturday. Applicable now to 0.001% of the population. ]]> Editor http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1161-glory-days.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/fazerdaze/1159-personal-values.html Sun, 17 Mar 2013 12:56:56 GMT Looking back though some old photos recently, it made me think hard about the label 'biker' and what it means to me, and I decided that although there are no photos of me bungee'd to my dad as he rode me round the garden on his BSA, I know it happened, and wonder if that experience planted the first seed of my biker path. My dad got rid of the bike when I was three and a half and never rode another one until I was seventeen, so is it learned behaviour or is it deeper than that? Are some people just prone to become 'Bikers'?

Looking back through the pictures, from the age of fourteen bikes are everywhere. My friends all had them, my boyfriends all had them, my social life revolved around bikes for transport and biker friendly venues.
I don't know whether I became a biker when I was fourteen, or whether I already was one, but motorbikes have been the only constant in my life.

In my experience bikers are a bloody good bunch. They look out for each other and really care. They make-do & mend and go out of their way to help. Whether it's a nod on the road, lending of tools, donating 'bits', advice over the phone or driving miles to help when it's needed, bikers support and come through for each other time and time again.

There is a bit of an image thing going on, but that's largely down to the practicality of the clothes we wear in order to keep ourselves warm, dry and safe. It annoys me sometimes how much people judge and value others on the way they look; and maybe my being a biker has affected my whole life direction and achievement possibilities, but looking round at my mates and the way they are to each other, I'd take a bunch of greasy bikers over the suited an' booted fashion set any day! ]]> fazerdaze http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/fazerdaze/1159-personal-values.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1155-booze.html Thu, 28 Feb 2013 17:23:27 GMT That's my problem I like a drink of an evening.
My current alcohol intake for 1 week is;

1 bottle whisky
2 bottle of wine
12 bottles of Hobgoblin

That probably accounts for loads of sugar, loads of calories and loads of units :whistle:

So I reckon a bit of cutting down is in order, not quitting it all together, that'd be daft. So from Monday I'm limiting my weekly booze shop to;

1 bottle whisky
4 bottles of hobgoblin

Which should help with my BP, and with the money saved I can afford a decent drop of whisky O0 ]]> mrlongbeard http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1155-booze.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1154-results-in.html Thu, 28 Feb 2013 09:20:51 GMT And they're a bit, well, meh nothing life threatening, yet, but the normal stuff most folk know about.

Kidney function; Normal
Liver; Normal
Cholesterol; 5 - 6
BP; 140/100
Weight; Too much, OK OK 130Kgs
Smoking; Quit it
Alcohol; Half it

OK so my BP is high, and my cholesterol is borderline, although he did say my lipoproteins were slightly elevated but probably down to the booze.
He's given me a month to straighten up & fly right, after which I borrow a BP monitor for a week to see if it's come down, if not time to get with the pills.

And that is my big motivator, I've been a wheezy asthmatic since way before it was trendy to have an allergy, which means I've been on 2 - 3 medications a day since I was 5ish.
It has given me a deep seated loathing of medication and I'll do almost anything rather than pop pills, so I think I will.

Goals;
Short term (1 month), Get BP down.
Medium term , Sort diet out, I don't mean go on a diet, just get a better food intake cycle going.
Long term, Loose 30Kgs and quit the smoking

Today has been somewhat anti climatic, I've abused my body to hell and back with my current lifestyle, and I'm ruddy surprised I only need to make some small changes. hey ho live and learn ]]> mrlongbeard http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1154-results-in.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1152-calories.html Wed, 27 Feb 2013 21:48:18 GMT Funny little buggers ain't they?

Bloody things get everywhere, well except black coffee :smoke: can you live on coffee alone, it'd save a whole heap of hassle down the road?

In preparation for tomorrow I've been playing with an app on the old mobile http://www.myfitnesspal.com/apps to see what my intake is :o

432 Calories in a jacket spud, a small one mind
240 in a milkshake
700 in a bottle of vino :-X fuck my boots

It appears as though the app is pretty decent / accurate to my eyes, and if it only achieves one thing it makes you sit up and notice food, good food, bad food, all food and what's in it, you end up running round like a headless loon scanning every bar code in sight to see if you can fit it in today's calorie quota.

I blew today's target by a whole 375 ending up at 2350 calories for the day, not to be sniffed at (I bet snot has a ton of calories too ???) it's not a real target yet, still just playing, but in the old adage of eat less move more, the eat less bit should be a doddle ]]> mrlongbeard http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1152-calories.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1151-before.html Tue, 26 Feb 2013 13:28:30 GMT Hullo everyone :) Well time has caught up with me, 40 this year, and the doc is worried about pretty much every... Hullo everyone :)

Well time has caught up with me, 40 this year, and the doc is worried about pretty much every aspect of my general health. :(

To this end I was shipped off to have an armful drawn and get to have a full run down and results on Thursday.

I'm not looking forward to it one little bit, I smoke what I like, drink what I like and haven't sought out exercise in many a year.
What he will tell me probably won't come as a surprise, but we shall see, and what we shall see will make it up in here.

I have the wonderful luxury of anonymity on here and am blessed with a thick skin yet can tap into a vast wealth of knowledge and experience.

So choose to read now or look away, we'll have diet, smoking, drinking, getting fit, food and all with my own personal take on every matter coming from a card carry salad dodger..;D ]]> mrlongbeard http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/mrlongbeard/1151-before.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/jenkins/1149-depression-strikes-but-i-feint-strike-back-take-black-dog.html Wed, 30 Jan 2013 00:55:19 GMT Forced myself into 30 minutes exercise tonight and forced is the correct word here. I say exercise, but it was more... Forced myself into 30 minutes exercise tonight and forced is the correct word here. I say exercise, but it was more an outpouring of nervous energy via a physical act (peddling like a twat on a turbo trainer) and it's had an affect; my legs hurt! Actually, more appropriate for this thread, it hasn't taken me to the edge of sleep but it has taken away most of the negative and anxious thoughts I was feeling before hand. In a bit when I lie down in the darkened room, we'll see how well suppressed they are and tomorrow we'll see whether they return in anger or if they are lessened.

As I'm coming to better appreciate (I won't say understand as I'm not sure anyone does) my mental issues I can start linking certain things and decoupling others. For example for much of my adult life I haven't slept well and I have often thought that it is the result of worrying a lot. More recently I am coming to the conclusion that I may just be crap at sleeping regardless, but worrying is more exhausting so I've linked the two.

I'm currently reading a book about all of this - Madness Explained by Richard Bentall and that's throwing up some interesting ideas prime of which is that there are an awful lot of theories and many are flawed when put under scrutiny in the real world.

The bugger crept up this time and BANG. Not as bad as previous downs and this time I've recognised some of my negative thinking and tried to discount it or counter it as it's happening rather than let it blossom and cast a shadow over everything.

I will need to explain to my wife though as I've been rather quiet this week (well even quieter than normal). Maybe I'll pluck up the courage to point her at this post. ]]> jenkins http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/jenkins/1149-depression-strikes-but-i-feint-strike-back-take-black-dog.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/bigjawa/1143-cold-turkey-harder-than-looks.html Sun, 13 Jan 2013 22:14:51 GMT At Christmas, I looked about me and thought "I'm going to give up the bikes"

At the time it seemed rather logical, I have a shed, a huge elderly ST1100, an equally elderly Bandit, a GSXR1100 streetfighter needing finished, most of another slabside and a CB250 all sitting doing nothing. I wouldn't sell the Bandit, I would be keeping the shed and I'm very fond of the old beast anyway, co it could stay, the fighter just needs paint, the ST would go on Gumtree and the assorted parts would too. Easy.

Things started to go wrong just after Xmas, I was looking at a local biker buy and sell group on FB, there was a bloke who had been trying to flog a Firestorm since November, I had watched the price get reduced until it was a couple of hundred quid above what I thought I would get for the ST, if I was lucky, so I sent him a cheeky PM wondering if he would be up for a swap, He rode the ST and liked it, I liked the VTR and a deal was done. I was happy, a tidy VTR would always be easier to shift than a tatty, high mileage ST. At the same time I pulled the Bandit out where it had lain since about may and gave it a go at starting. As usual it started and I began to think how handy it would be to have the Bandit outside the house, just for emergencies, so I insured it and the VTR and the Bandit was presented for MOT, passed with flying colours, so in the space of a few says I had 2 road legal bikes.

So that was ok for a couple of weeks until another mate phones up bemoaning the fact that he was looking a trailie and was skint, did I know anyone who would buy his unfinished GSXR project. I know the bike in question, an 1100L, bored to 1216, fancy cams, K&N's, very quick for an 1100, (north of 150bhp IIRC) harris rearsets, bodywork painted in Rizla colours, a K5 subframe and rear bodywork for fitting and a complete TL1000R front end that he was going to fit. Would I know anyone who would buy it.

"What are you looking for it?"

"Dunno, about £1200 for everything"

"Fuck off, it's in bits"

"I paid £400 for that front end and that engine was two grand!"

"I might well have been, but it's IN BITS"

"I know, but I've seen this XT600"

"How much is the XT"

"£900"

"Give you £800 for everything, including the Ohlins you're hiding from it"

(reluctantly) "Sold!"

So now my plans for giving up have been totally blown to bits, I haven't a pot to piss in and I'm considering if my ancient Bandit could cope with nearly twice the power, it's a funny old world............. ]]> Bigjawa http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/bigjawa/1143-cold-turkey-harder-than-looks.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1132-terror-has-name.html Sun, 25 Nov 2012 12:29:48 GMT the following is part of a larger piece which I've posted up here because I'm interested in generational differences etc. See thread in General.

http://www.therevcounter.com/general...-into-you.html

******************

My goodness we were so lucky to not only to live in the right time but to be the age we were. And so safe as well. Not for us listening around the radio like our grandparents or perhaps even parents, hearing Churchill declare World War 2. A time when our grandparents had already experienced round 1 against the WW 1^st XV & had a pretty good idea of how life was about to change, again. And not for the better either. Or us living in the places where children had no childhood because they’d already been invaded by the germans. Or the sheer fear when the world held it’s breath fearing real all out nuclear war over some missile base locations. Nah-all I can remember is doing a project about Cod Wars & that wasn’t a Call Of Duty thing. It was simply the fish itself. So yeah-safe. Apart from the IRA but that’s what happens to other people right? Greenham Common-WTF is that? Mind you there was a nasty moment in the café at VI form College just after the Falkland’s Conflict was announced & Natalie of the raven corkscrew hair with a purple died twist down one strand at the front instantly stood up & screamed ‘We’re going to die. We’re ALL going to die.’ We sort of calmed her down with ‘nah-that’s not going to happen. No one’s going to nuke an island full of sheep & our own citizens. Get a grip Nat, really.’ Actually I think what really happened then was that Nat ‘simply’ grounded & restabilised all by herself whilst transferring a fair bit of this over to us optomistic in the face of blind folly chaps. Or perhaps she knew about nuclear tipped torpedoes sometime before we all did. It’s not comfortable reading what there is released under the 30 year rule & you know there’s stuff we’ll never be alive to see & yet more stuff no-one will ever hear about.

So our gen is largely the N part of yer NBC suit, but not quite. There was the small matter of the Survivor’s programme that I wasn’t actually allowed to see but had grasped the idea rather quickly with the white masked surgeon looking chap cropping the flask of white liquid at the beginning. So that’s yer B bit. And we had flids, thalidomide, so that makes the triplet with the chemical component. Ish-OK agent orange & napalm then & MASH. When I get my dreams, & I do, quite regularly it looks nuclear, but for me there’s strong underlying compent which is cleverer & more insidious. More thorough-not even the creatures in the bottom of that trench or even the ants making it. But yeah-it’s to one fuck of a firework show & I guess it doesn’t quite matter exactly what flavour the apocolypse rides in on, in much the same way that if you’re going to die it doesn’t matter from what. Not when all hope has gone & it’s a cert. So whilst we were safe & had little idea of what went on in Childrens Homes (we had an inkling-it was the ultimate threat for naughtiness at home being threatened to be put into Borstal & that did the trick everytime) we didn’t quite get away scott free. I wonder if anyone ever did & in fact, if it would have been healthy if so?

So I reckon that there’s a latent streak of neat essence of terror within us all-what’s yours called? ]]> Editor http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1132-terror-has-name.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/fazerdaze/1131-i-m-feeling-selfish-for-wanting-dog.html Sat, 24 Nov 2012 19:32:37 GMT Whenever winter comes round and I'm stuck indoors I get a real hankering to have a dog again.
I've found a cutie at the local kennels but I fear the long hours I work are against it. 15 hours is a long time to leave a dog on its own, but it would have free run of the house & garden, and I know of dogs that spend all day apart from a daily walk in outdoor kennels and pens, so would life with me be so terrible? Would a youngish dog be able to get used to it?

I'm being a bit of a wuss really. A bit reluctant to even apply in case they turn me down because I know I'd be so disappointed :-\ ]]> fazerdaze http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/fazerdaze/1131-i-m-feeling-selfish-for-wanting-dog.html http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1130-post-i-didn-t-publish-about-s-d.html Tue, 20 Nov 2012 12:43:40 GMT Seasonal Affected Disorder aka The Winter Blues. I never used to have a shift of mood over winter-I loved it... Seasonal Affected Disorder aka The Winter Blues.

I never used to have a shift of mood over winter-I loved it actually. It's the most intense time in retail-hardwork but fun & even the lull after the January sales is pretty full as you're busy destocking & doing all the returns, planning for the rest of the year whilst you have some time & Valentine's is only just a few weeks away. You've Back to School to keep you busy as well. Although it is dislocating if you're a buyer or planner. From my POV I've bought Christmas back in August really & would have been doing Easter just before, so one's mind is a bit elsewhere in some ways. And the chill snap that January heralds coupled with the sounds of children singing at morning assemby as I used to walk by Winchester College on my way into work quite often took me into a festive 'space cadet' glow for a few weeks after it had all passed. I still liked Christmas then.

Over the last several years things have changed-Christmas is the worst time of the entire year for me now. Usually I drug the bastard-i.e. turning the emotional dimmer switch (copyright our very own Hunter) down to just a glimmer. But this year has been different so far & my saved stash of dried frog pills (DFPs) has remained unopened. I don't think it's been cold enough to set it off for me-usually it's when my fingers turn white when working outside.

Seeing as it's all going so well** I'm minded to front it through this time. OTOH it takes a good 3 weeks for the meds to kick in & I do remember another year when I thought 'I don't need to take these anymore' & it all collapsed around December 20thish. Fuck knows what year that was, & I can't for the life of me recall any other detail.

It does make the arrival of Spring so much more the sweeter. And not being on the meds also means I can have a good laugh at things as well. That's the thing about meds-they flatline EVERYTHING. The good stuff as well.

“Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain.” William Faulkner. Hmmm, maybe Billy & then again, maybe not.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow" The Bard, of course. Mind you-that didn't exactly end well for either Romeo or Juliet.

some knowing observations below:
Quotes About Sorrow (232 quotes)

**Oh dear-that was a bit premature then. I've just gone through some 10 year old emails to see what I was doing a decade ago (thread= http://www.therevcounter.com/general...ml#post1813642 ). It's like reading about a stranger who I used to know from another time & place. Fucking Hell-the documented loooooong few seconds before the crash if ever there was. This has not helped one bit-shit I can even see the poor obs error in the making. The theme tune from The Likely Lads is playing..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JcJ4C...eature=related

So meantime I'm going to toss a coin to choose between gobbling a handful of DFPs or a box of maltesers. Meh-it feels like a bad Monday Morning as of right now. ]]> Editor http://www.therevcounter.co.uk/blogs/editor/1130-post-i-didn-t-publish-about-s-d.html