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Woke up Thursday to cold temperatures and cloudy skies - but had to leave as I needed to be home. The red sandstone bluffs outside of town looked really cool as the rising Sun hit them......

When we used to be going to clubs in our early twenties there was a young lady of our acquaintance who was known as 'matchmakers' ( as long as she was out of ear shot). For our non-uk folks Matchmakers are a long thin chocolate candy that you buy in a box ............. Anyway, when I first enquired as to why she had received this nickname I was told that it was her fancy to have a matchmaker inserted into her frontal area (not her mouth) and then you had to eat it. This was a form a foreplay for her and no real sex action would begin until most of the box was empty A mate of mine was chosen one night by said lady and on the way to her flat was going into every corner shop desperately trying to secure a box of matchmakers. When they got back to her flat the games commenced but after a while she enquired as to why there were cruching noises and what the strange smell was ? He had failed to get any matchmakers and had substituted them for a bag of twiglets............... (twiglets are a savoury snack covered in marmite and definitely not covered in chocolate) He was immediately kicked out by the lady without getting a shag and was called a fucking cheapskate to boot

I kept thinking that there would be something over that next rise in the distance - but there never was. Just another rise off in the distance. I did about 20 miles of rock road to see where it went.... and it kept going...

Saw another one of those rock roads that @Pedro likes going off into the distance. Had to do it...

It works!!!!!! Had a message from my Independent Financial Adviser this morning to say that he has been informed that the transfer of my pension funds is going ahead! So, the power of this thread is not to be underestimated!

Looked crap from the outside but real nice inside with air con. Fuckin woman will eat anything Lovely spot.

I was on the clothes counter part of a Christmas day homeless charity thing about 10 years ago, Shelter or Crisis or similar. I was one of three, the other two were teenagers. You know in your head you think you are the same person you were in your teens, you really aren't, you do get a bit more sensible. They were nice lads, very keen, but also pretty hopeless. I'd seen them earlier filling a deep tray with water to take it to the tea urn, sloshing everywhere, whereas when it was my turn I just went and bought a large bottle of mineral water then refilled that from the tap after the first empty. Clothes on the counter we were now on were there to hand out all right, but still in black bags, exactly as donated, no one had had the time to sort them, so it was a bit hectic, you got a request and it was search like a mad thing, guessing sizes and hoping for the best. I had heard one person give her name to the next section which was doing footwear so I knew it was a lady. Unfortunately when she moved along to us she asked one of the teenagers if we had any jeans to fit her, he replied with, "Sorry mate, we are all out of men's jeans". She looked at him stonily and said, " I am a woman". He went the colour only a teenager can go and was mortified.

I remember going into a toilet busting for a piss and went straight into a shitter as it was closest to the door, had my wee with the door open turned around and there was a bloke just staring at me, i started washing my hands when this bloke said lost are you, No i said why, the bloke said your in the ladies, i said are you sure then the bloke said yes standing in a look at me what do you think i am way, i looked him up and down trying to work out what this bloke was on about, are you sure your sure i said and then i noticed no urinals this bloke was a woman but looked more like a man than i did i apologised and left a bit red faced

Yes, perhaps add a dash of excremental detail, that's what I would do.

At the 20 miles mark, I turned around and went back the way I came, never finding anything out here...

Saw shit tons of these animals out there, looked a prong horn but were the size of a deer and very fast moving. Might have to zoom in on the pics to see them...

Listen, I have a BNP councillor and the Union Jack story and that involves shit. You can get it in anywhere if you try hard enough.

Weather looks decent enough here...... ......so hopefully I'll be out! The wife's on about going to the garden centre in Caniles but I'm going to try and switch that to today if possible. What have you got planned?

So the only way you can get rid of your old pants is to give them to homeless people? If they wear those they're going to be homeless for a lot fucking longer!

And get a grown up to write a Ride Report for you!

Dirty biking tomorrow starting and ending at Baskerville Hall out early home late

Got a new gig come in......replacement site for existing client. So I'm going to be working this weekend.......hopefully I'll still be able to get out for an hour or so.

This was about 1988/89! I got to Strensham Services about 7am in the middle of Winter! All the car park area was in darkness (seemed like a power cut) so I ran into the bog busting for a shit. Had a shit, just about to leave and lights came on.......then I heard clicking of heels and women's voices! I was in the womens! Waited for them to leave and as I started to open the cubicle.....more women's voices. Fucking loads of them because a bunch of coaches had now turned up. Back in the cubicle and sat waiting for silence again. This went on for about an hour or so until the coast was clear to make an escape! I was fucking close to getting put on the Sex Offenders register!

I don't remember seeing that ride report!

There's a lot of nothing out there, it looks strange to me as we don't really have any vast landscapes like that in UK

Edit: Just looked them up, I guess those are prong horns. Didn't know they got that big - up to 150 lbs. ( 70 kg).

Thanks for coming along with me on the trip and reading the posts!

Last pics of the trip. Gas stops were fast as I had wasted so much time on the gravel roads. Still, got home at 4:00 PM after leaving Dubois, Wyoming at 8:00 AM. A good day's ride.

It was pretty much like this the rest of the way into Colorado..

Had lots of this to look forward to today...

We had 8 inches of rain from the storm, i would like to get out to see how much water is still about. Its called Labour Day Weekend here, bank 3 day weekend 'Oliday type chit with monday being the off day....last weekend of "summer" for New England. The last tropical storm took the life of a Connecticut State Trooper who was swept off a bridge and drowned, so some friends of mine arnt doing that great today, Duty, the biggest four letter word in the English language..

4/ The Moroccan murder attempts As time went by our little team in the corner gained or lost people. Mostly there were just two of us doing our trafficy type stuff, but at the time of this story we had been joined by a lady called Jane who did our finance and a man known as Normsboy, because his last name was Tebbett. He just had nowhere else to sit. Normsboy was probably one of the most intelligent people I have ever met, he had two degrees and was doing another through the Open University, carrying out the work during his train journey in from Kent. He didn't need to work at all really, his wife was a highly paid part time QC, but he liked his job which covered lots of different areas, the most interesting being the arranging of pauper funerals as I called them. If someone died who had no relatives he would visit their homes, sort out their affairs and arrange for their burial or cremation. He would laugh at my drawings showing traffic schemes, he had a theory that any information for a construction drawing could be adequately conveyed in written form. He also taught me a few new words to add to my limited vocabulary. In those days the public could walk in and demand to meet us face to face, this usually involved someone shouting at you or poking you in the chest. In one case an old lady hit me with her walking stick. Normsboy came back from a face to face meeting and told me that he had “never met with such personal vilification before”. This meant that he had received a good slagging off. I learnt that after a quick flick through the office dictionary. I stored the word away for future use, but to be honest, this is the first time I've used it since. So one day I have just finished a good spinning session on my drawing board chair and I'm just shaking my rotring pen to get the ink flowing when I heard a commotion outside. I opened the window and stuck my head out. Down below I could see an old man, an old woman and a young heavily pregnant lady. They all looked middle eastern to me. They were all shouting and the man was waving what at first appeared to be a sword, but was actually a cane walking stick that had split and broken leaving a sort of a point. The old woman punched him repeatedly, whilst at the same time he was bashing his broken walking stick handle on her head. Then the pregnant lady pushed him over and started laying into him with some serious sandal action. Hormones will do that to you I suppose. It was at this point I saw that the old man had also been holding a small knife that was now laying on the ground. A young male appeared, running up the street like a dusky Seb Coe. He pushed the pregnant lady from behind and she goes arse over tit over the old man and ends up laying on the floor. She managed to turn over like a struggling tortoise just in time for the young man to start stamping on her belly, what an animal. I turned and shouted at Normsboy to ring the old bill quickly. By now a crowd is starting to gather on the opposite foot way and they are shouting across the road at the fighting people. Mostly encouraging, it seemed to me. Traffic had been moving slowly, drivers were looking to see what was happening, but eventually one car stopped and the driver opened his door and left his car with the engine running. He was a very big bloke, vest top and muscles, shaven head. This was unusual because it was a very cold day. There was a lorry with two men right behind him and the lorry driver started beeping his horn when he realised the car was now blocking the road. The beeping stopped suddenly when the big geezer ran to his boot, opened it and emerged carrying a baseball bat and a large carving knife. He ran at the young male who was assaulting the pregnant lady. The young male turns and runs into our public office out of my sight and the knife wielding Hulk ran in after him. Newspapers would later say that local school children watched in horror, but in fact quite a few were shouting 'stab him' across the road, little shits, all of them. A single police car pulled up and a lone police woman jumped out of the passenger door. I couldn't see the two males, but the crowd across the road obviously could because some one shouted at her to “Get back in the car you silly cow, he's got a knife”. She hopped back in for a second and then the cavalry turned up. A van screeched to a halt on the opposite carriageway and the boys in blue, wearing riot gear and carrying large round perspex shields charged en masse into our public office. 10 minutes later they carried the Hulk out by the arms and legs. He was facing down and handcuffed and wasn't going quietly, shocking language, but they bundled him into a van and took him away. The other bloke left on an ambulance stretcher covered in blood and holes. He had run into one of the interview rooms I was told later and the big bloke had followed him in and started battering and stabbing him. The odd thing was, the baseball bat was never found after the event. We all pondered on who had secreted that away and how on earth they did it. Things quietened down, although the next morning several parked cars in the street nearby had no glass left in the windows and slashed tyres, I believe they belonged to the combatants. The story I later heard was that two Moroccan families had been joined by a marriage and then had fallen out big time, resulting in the fighting I had seen. One of my colleagues, a good friend as well, knew them all, she went to the same gym as the dusky Hulk and dealt with the rest of the family on a day to day basis. She had been on the front desk when it all kicked off so was a prime witness. She was not keen to give evidence against a family of people she had to walk past every day and who had shown how they liked to settle a disagreement. When the police started to tell her she had to appear in court as a witness she spoke to her doctor who wrote to them. She had been losing weight for a while, ever since running in the London Marathon 6 months before oddly, no one could work out why. Her doctor said that additional stress could be dangerous for her health. Despite this the police or crown prosecution issued a subpoena for her to appear. She didn't go, prepared to take the legal consequences rather than face them in court. My name had helpfully been given to the old bill by Normsboy, the twat! So I got interviewed and a day in court. The police interviews and the following court case were quite an experience, I'll come back to my only appearance as one of the witnesses for the prosecution, questioned by 8 barristers (one for the prosecution and 7 for the defence) and then shuffled quickly out of the witness box. The end result was a bit weird as well.

There was a lad that I did my apprenticeship with called Micky. His knickname was Desperate, after Desperate Dan the comic character who ate cow pies. So, Milky was a big lad, 6'3" at least and probably around 18 stone. On the rare occasions that he shaved before work he'd have a really dark 6 o'clock shadow by lunchtime. He also had the thickest NHS glasses that I'd ever seen and his eyesight was still shocking. He used to ride a CZ 250. Anyway, he went on holiday from Kent, where he lived, to Norfolk broads with his mum and brother. Because his mum's car was a bit small for them all to fit into along with their luggage Micky volunteered to follow his mum's car up there on his bike. When they got to Dartford tunnel his mum stopped at the toll barrier to pay, but Micky didn't and ran straight into the back of the car and ended up on the roof! They had hired a boat on the broads for a week, but because of his shocking eyesight, he hit a bridge and took all the windows out down one side of it within a couple of days. I think that Micky's CZ had the forks bent more often than they were straight!

Rugby game tomorrow (1st game in nearly 18 months) then the rest will consist of recovering from said game with as little movement as possible

Whining old cunts.

Not that I owe any of you lot any sort of explanation, but; work went bonkers and we had endless technical problems ( but then there has been no maintenance done for 2 winters on the trot so not wholly unexpected but excacerbated by being forbidden from spending any money on parts) Discovered that I have rhumatoid poly-arthritis and have spent most of my spare time driving or riding to and from Dijon for x-rays, echographies and numerous other medical exams of hands and feet. then I was given 2 weeks off at short notice and the computer crapped out completely, refusing to recognise it's own innards. 'putor went to the repair shop and I buggered off for 4 days with bike and tent, leaving everything technological at home. ( 'cept the camera) I got back yesterday, picked up the repaired 'putor this morning and here I am again. If you're very good, i will regale you with tales of motorcycling exploits and derring do over the next couple of days.

An old bloke at work had a beard and hair at the sides, the rest was bald. Standard issue if you know what I mean. One day he walked in quietly with a completely shaved head, like an egg it was. We all asked of course and he gave some story about the guard falling off the electric trimmers and once he had made a slot in his remaining hair he thought he should take it all off. It later turned out he and his brother in law had both been drunk and agreed to shave each others head. He went first, then his brother in law said he'd changed his mind and ran away. BUT, the funny thing was, we had a new young Nigerian lad, a real innocent, not long in the country and with a loud sing song voice. He walked through the door and without even slowing down as he walked past, his sing song voice went, "Hallo Kojak."

I'll start off with something from my early teens. In Quakers yard where i lived there was a caravan site which was used by the council to house people and we were always messing about there. Our favourite prank at the time was to get hold of a caravan and shake the fuck out of it then run. As well as the shaking prank we used to knock the power off for the caravan as the main isolator was in a small shed outside every van, that used to really wind them up. The favorite caravan to shake was lived in by a bloke in his 30's it was our favourite because he was a chaser and he was fast he used to explode out the van door and give us a good run really got the adrenaline going One night we decided to step things up a bit so before we shook his van we removed the small metal steps from outside the door then grabbed a hold and shook like our lives depended on it, i was closest to the door and can still picture it in my head now all i could see was the door explode open and this foot come out to land on the steps that were no longer there he done a full on head first into his garden shed and fell in a heap on the floor which was a good job for us as we were laughing so hard we could hardly run

Everything in this small crossroads of a town was closed. All 4 restaurants were closed save one; a pizza and beer joint. Better than nuthin'......

This one was when i was about 13 year old . At the time they were constructing the A470 from Quakers yard to Merthyr Tydfil which passed about 200 yards from my parents house and was pretty exciting for me as there were lots of machines to watch working and they were blasting rock with dynamite of some sort and of course a lot of mischief to be had when everyone had gone home for the night, But this was also exciting for my father for him there was a supply of free building materials to be had, so one frosty morning my father walked over to have his daily viewing of progress but today he was checking out where they were storing the sheets of plywood he needed, after he made a good mental note of the route to his bounty as there was no lighting over there in the night and he couldn't take a torch in case security saw him mooching about. He heads out about 9pm he was back about 5 minutes later wet from head to toe, during the day they had dug a big fuck off hole on route to his bounty and it had filled with icy cold water which my father walked straight into he went in over his head. My eldest brother told me the next day he was walking his new girlfriend home past our house at the time and this man ran past them with water splashing everywhere out of his wellies and said alright boy as he went past his girlfriend said who was that he replied my dad with his hand over his face embarrassed

She wouldn't need to strip off if she didn't have 20lb of silicone stuffed in her tits

Used to play this with the window open when my next door neighbour's under 16 daughter was out in the garden with her drug dealer boyfriend. He was actually no trouble, it was the people who came to see him that made me move in the end.

Just had to look it up. Orellana la Vieja http://www.balcondeorellana.es

You fucking deviant!

Except he is transferring it to his personal beer fund.

If you're not prepared to put the effort in you deserve to fail the entrance exam.

I can do a report on how I hopped out to the garage and back if you like

No......thank you for a great ride report Eric! Helps to give us some credibility! If it was left to most of the others here this place would look more like a Manic Depressives newsgroup than a motorcycle forum.

I got home yesterday at 4:00 PM. My butt is sore.

I've mentioned this one in the past, but it may not be familiar to everybody! This one goes back to 1972 and there was this one guy, Dai Tanner, who used to fall off his bike! A lot! Back in those days we were always in a pack......so it was guaranteed he was going to do it in front of everybody at some point. And the first time he did it......he started crying! Everybody was horrified cos he was shaming us (this was the Greaser/Skinhead era).......so he got told that if he cried again he'd get a twatting. Sure enough he kept falling off......and everytime he did he started his snivelling. So we'd all run over to him (even if he was still on the floor) and give him a fucking belting! If anybody missed the run, and they found out he'd been crying, they'd just give him another fucking smack as soon as they saw him. He gave up bikes in the end. Maybe it wasn't for him.

I had to use the toilet on a transatlantic flight one time for a shit. I flushed the toilet and the little flap dropped down and there were the usual sucking and whooshing noises ( you'll know what I mean if you've used an airplane bog) and the flap swung back up with my turd still firmly attached! I tried a couple more flushes, but it wasn't letting go! In the end I had to wrap some bog roll around my hand and give it a nudge whilst flushing, which did the trick, but by this time there was a reasonable queue outside waiting to use the bog. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone as I made my way back to my seat!

500 miles later and I'm in Dubois, Wyoming. Most of the hotels I passed today were already closed for the winter, but the Stagecoach Inn was still open - so I landed here for the night. Crap room with stained furniture but they do have an arch made out of animal antlers out by the pool, so I got that going for me.......