yen_powell

5 or 6 weeks in 2005 is the longest I haven't ridden a bike since I started in 1983. After I had my stroke the doctor was required by law to inform me that I was not allowed to drive for a minimum of one month and after that my GP had to give me the okay or the DVLA would get involved and that could take ages. I went to see my GP on the 30th day (walked across town) and went all out to give the impression that I was a superb specimen of health, balance and intelligence. This was not easy as I have always had trouble doing any balancing feats and can never remember anything when questioned. Anyway, whilst stating the date and naming the current prime minister, I was standing on one leg with my eyes shut, then touching my nose with my index finger without looking and finally squeezing the doctor's hand till the bones crunched. After all that she said she wasn't sure if she had the authority to give me the okay and perhaps she should refer me to the DVLA. I frantically waved my NHS leaflet at her and pointed out the wording. In the end she said she would instead speak to the specialist at the hospital I was treated in. That took her another week or so!! Still got that leaflet safe as it also says I don't have to inform any insurance company about the stroke if the DVLA were not involved.

Those Triffids always shit me up, you were lucky it didn't lunge.

Now I've found they are back together.

Are you saying it's not a looker? For about 18 months I was riding down to Plymouth every weekend to see my girlfriend who was at the college there. The place did photography, film making, sound stuff etc. My nickname there was Grandad (because she was Gran, being older than the usual students, as was I). They were a nice bunch and I went with them a few times to see a band called The Retreat who were very good. A New Zealand lad had done some filming with them, made a few music videos and I asked him for a copy. He handed me a VHS tape and I took it all the way home only to find out it was 3 hours of nothing but panning shots of sheep on what looked like Dartmoor. Of course when I saw him the following weekend I told him that he'd given me his wanking tape by mistake. I did get the proper video. Fuckmine, checked out youtube and they are still going, below is them now and the same song in the pub in the 90s underneath when there was 42 of them and they were young.

Apparently if you can't see the tail you have to look at the front lip. if it's got a little crevice it's a sheep if it hasn't it is a goat. Who knew? So that is a sheep and therefore you are allowed to shag it.

I thought it was a goat!

I think he organised the trail riding and the Rusty Sprockets did the rally.

Four people ended up in hospital or injured from that event. I was ambulanced in to hospital for a stroke before I had even had a chance to hand out the rally tickets so never left Essex at all. My parents were given a list of addresses from my hospital bed and ran around town distributing them. I was the least injured out of the four by the end of the weekend! Jackie made it to the rally, then had a crash on the associated trail riding and broke a rib or two, spending all night in a welsh hospital. She was very upset at having her bra cut off she said afterwards. Strange Dave's brother Tony had a head on crash with another trail bike at speed on the same trail riding event, possibly by a Welsh nationalist making a point. This was captured on film and made me wince with the crunchiness of it all. He had bruises all over and a wrecked DR350. He was very upset about Jackie having her bra cut off as well. Martin rode his DR250 up a hill on the same trail riding event and had a tumble which did something to one of his knees and he was off work for a week afterwards. He wasn't that bothered about Jackie's bra, he's a bit self centred.

Flame freezing on your lighter. Brass monkeys crying.

These pictures made me go,' Ohhhhhhh'. I can't spell the exact noise.

That's the jobbie. I used to go to the 'other' one. Kent's Custom Show. The last time there I missed Debbie Harry on stage as I was dying of a fatal dose of ear ache?? I preferred it when they didn't have famous people playing music, I liked the rubbish bands they had in the years leading up to that. Suzi Quatro was good though.

My mate xxx, a fellow council worker, had the hots for a particular girl and in a drunken moment invited her to come with him to the bike show run by the Hells' Angels at some drag race place in the midlands, can't remember what it was called. Sir Fallsalot will know, I'm sure he has been. Now xxx had a habit of misunderstanding females when they said yes to his invitations and this had caused a few problems at various events, including a drunk Irish girlfriend of his trying to attack another girl at 2am as she slept in her tent and him breaking up with said girlfriend by text as she flew home because he was too scared to do it in person after she went for him with a whisky bottle in a pub. But that's a whole other story. Anyway, he's got the hots for some girl, he has got drunk one night down the village pub and invited her to this HA show, she has said what a good idea, he has bought the tickets. He is plumping up the seat of his GSXR1100 and zipping two sleeping bags together ready for a weekend of passion. Then it turns out that what she actually meant was she would be going with her boyfriend he didn't know about and her friend was also coming and could xxx give her a lift on his bike and put her up in his tent. Xxx is a bit of a shallow person and his exact words to me were that he didn't like to stare but he had never seen such an odd looking girl as the friend he was supposed to take. A healthy strapping girl with a large, even huge head of red frizzy hair was roughly how he described her (no offence Pete). Basically, there was no way he was taking her, but on the other hand he still harboured hopes of success with the girl he did like so was in a panic about how to get out of it and still keep on her good side. In a moment of inspiration he asked me to go to this rally on the back of his bike and share his tent so he could tell the flame haired maiden that he could not take her after all as it was my lifelong dream to go. I said no way in hell was I doing either, I had suffered both of those fates before!! Now he was/is notoriously tight, he has been known to glue on a set of heated grips given to him by a fellow rider for the Elephant Rally in Germany (pay me when you get back they thought he'd agreed to) and he carefully removed them and handed them back to the original owner after getting home. So imagine my shock when he asked if it was the cost stopping me, because he would happily give me his spare ticket for free. I said no again. He kept asking me every time he saw me, this went on for weeks. Then I found out that Chuck Berry was playing at this rally. I remember being very tempted to go, the chance to see one of the original rock and rollers, I mean, he couldn't have many years left could he? But then I thought long and hard and decided it would be funnier to wind xxx up about spending the weekend with the ginger siren. Come the weekend of doom and I couldn't resist ringing him up on his mobile on Friday night. I may have made some comments about checking his sleeping bag for red curly hairs when he got back, but no, my fun was ruined. His actual words were, "Very funny, well as it happens, I have had a bit of luck. Her friend has been in a serious car accident and couldn't go after all." He is a charmer isn't he. So I switched to my second line of piss taking, asking how he was getting on with his quest for romance with the girl he did fancy and did her huge boyfriend put any sort of damper on that. Turns out they had both decided not to go after all, he was there on his own (relatively speaking). Oh yeah, Chuck Berry was ill and didn't play I hear, so I wouldn't have seen him anyway!

I'm always hitting my head on stuff. Scaffolding, MIND YOUR HEAD signs, my own handlebars when I stand up under the bike, low hanging lights etc. I usually have a lump or two on the noggin, plus shin and elbow bruises from other acts of clumsiness I have forgotten. When I was a teenager and got run over I put my head through the car windscreen, didn't even cut it. The doctor who checked me over at hospital asked to see the crash helmet I was wearing so he could see how damaged it was. When I said I didn't have a motorbike he re-checked my x-rays and felt my head all over again before he let me go.

In between TEAMS meetings with consultants. The thickness can be magnificent if you get a goodun.

Just had a bout of rain here that Noah would have thought twice about going out in.

Dear Mr Powell, Thank you for your recent email. Much as he would like to, the Archbishop is unable to respond personally and in detail to all the hundreds of emails and letters that he receives, and so I have been asked to reply to you on his behalf. I was very sorry to read of your concerns in this matter and I appreciate the sentiments which prompted you to write. Whilst it is of course understandable you would want to write to the Archbishop on this matter, the day-to-day running of the Cathedral is solely the responsibility of the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury Cathedral, and the Archbishop cannot and does not have the ability to intervene in the running of the Cathedral and its visitor charges. Therefore, I would advise you to raise you concerns directly with the Dean of Canterbury Cathedral. This email is not intended to indicate any lack of concern, only to point out those more able to assist you and provide a suitable response. Thank you again for taking the time to write to the Archbishop on this matter and please be assured of our prayers and good wishes. Yours sincerely, Dominic Goodall Dominic Goodall | Correspondence Manager to the Archbishop of Canterbury Lambeth Palace, London SE1 7JU | | www.archbishopofcanterbury.org Switchboard: 020 7898 1200 |

Luckily I wasn't wearing standard Liverpool issue nylon tracksuit bottoms!!

Yes, I thought of you when I took that. The best time to visit is not when the M25 is shut, knocking Dartford Tunnel out of operation, especially when you have wide panniers fitted. I had to go all the way into east London on the A2 which was rammed with no proper filtering room (although I managed to get through by pure force of personality) and then go through Blackwall Tunnel at walking pace. I have never seen my new bike run so hot, usually 105 degrees C and the fan brings it down. With the fan running full time in the tunnel it reached 112 degrees and I was all set to pull over and let it cool when I hit the fresh outside air and the gauge started dropping like usual. The bike outside temp gauge was showing 41 degrees in the tunnel, back to 35 outside. I drank about 8 mugs of water when I got in and still didn't need the toilet for ages.

Just sent this:- To The Archbishop of Canterbury, senior bishop and principal leader of the Church of England. Dear Justin, On Sunday I finally visited Canterbury, a place I have been meaning to check out for many years. I have to say I was not disappointed, the vast range of architectural styles, the buzzing street life, the gorgeous looking riverscapes and the well preserved medieval city walls all lived up to my expectations and more. I'm a life long motorcyclist. I think I have stuck with it for over 35 years despite our great nation's abysmal weather because I like the independence I achieve from it. I can plan exactly when I will arrive somewhere, however bad the traffic situation. I can always find a place to park, I rarely queue. In fact not queuing is probably my biggest plus, I dislike it intensely. As a result when I visit a new place, I take my own food and drink, that way if the place is rammed I can ignore the queueing rabble and find a nice quiet spot and feed myself with no drama. Upon arriving in Canterbury I pulled into a nice empty (and free) motorcycle parking place alongside the wall around the cathedral precincts. As I had just ridden down the centre of around 10 miles of queuing holiday traffic on the M2 I was hot, hungry and thirsty. It was the hottest day of the year I believe. I grabbed my flask and sandwiches and walked excitedly around the corner into Burgate looking for the first side turning into the Cathedral grounds. Imagine my surprise when I was stopped at a vehicle checkpoint and told that to gain access to the grounds I had to buy a £14 ticket to the Cathedral itself. After expressing disbelief to the very polite lady manning the checkpoint, I walked further up Burgate and took my business and sandwiches to the Catholics at St Thomas of Canterbury. The same Catholics who, incidentally, owned Canterbury Cathedral until the 1500s when the county had a bit of a reformational shake up. I know this is a long rambling message, but I guess what I am really trying to say is, don't be knocking on my door asking for jumble for the Bring and Buy when your church roof is a bit threadbare mate!! Kind Regards Ian Powell (Christened, C of E, Laarbruch RAF chapel, Germany March 1966)

This must surely make burglary easier if you fancied dabbling, every cloud and all that.