So, GMD and the gang arrive back from The Money Pit at the weekend. Apparently the weather was glorious and they had a great time. Isn’t it wonderful how people revel in telling you how great their holiday was especially knowing you haven’t been away and that the weather was pretty grim here (until last Friday anyway!)? I don’t want to sound bitter and twisted….but you can imagine how I feel having them return to enjoy something which has cleaned the coffers of Jacks Bank and Shares Account to a level of nothingness comparable to the vast emptiness of the universe. On top of that a colleague from work had rented it for the previous 2 weeks and since his return has done nothing but tell me how great it was, what bars were good, how to get to the bloody beach club and where his favourite restaurants were! So, everyone knows more about The Money Pit and the surrounding locale than me! Oh yeah, keep bringing on the happy feelings…go on rub a few more joyful stories in about how great your holiday was. My turn will come (July 2nd to be precise) when I’m off to Spain for a weeks golf, drinking and football with some mates), maybe then I’ll come and regale you all with tales of my joyous week and see how you like it!
The cycling fad is still very much about. I went out virtually every night last week, and on Sunday. Monday night I met up with BigSykes again and we hit a 12 mile round trip ride which took in some frankly breathtaking scenery but also managed to get me covered in hundreds of tiny flies and bugs. God only knows how many of the little buggers I swallowed. Who needs an evening meal after a several courses of kamikaze flies? I forgot the camera but will make sure it comes next time so that I can get some mega-snaps of just how lovely the surrounding area to Jack Palace is.
Despite being under GMD orders last week to “not spend any money whilst I’m away” I did buy one or 2 bits and bobs courtesy of Argos and eBay. For the bike I bought a crash helmet (in case I involuntarily take a flyer one day), a decent U-lock so that no thieving scumbag can nick it and leave me with a very long walk home from somewhere remote, a bike computer to help me gauge just how far I’ve ridden and what speed I’ve done and a Belkin Tunecast II device so that I can play my MP3’s back through my car radio. Apparently though, this capability is illegal in the UK because transmitting a radio signal must be licensed. Its not illegal to use these “re-broadcast” devices (which merely lock the output of the player onto an unused FM frequency in the car) in Europe or the US, so why the hell are we different here? Does UK radio work on different laws of physics to every where else. Honestly we really are up our own arses on some issues in the UK. Anyway I look forward to the day a copper pulls me and charges me with flagrantly flouting the 1949 Telegraphy Act of Great Britain, as if he’d even know about such a thing! I just don’t get why the choice for radio across the rest of the civilised world appears so great, and yet here it is so restricted.
And one last thing for this post…………Heather Mills McCartney was apparently a porn star! Lucky bloke I’d say because these porn stars surely know their business. As Ali G once stated, shouldn’t Porn Stars become Sex teachers so that we all know how to be good at it, having learned from real experts? What made me simultaneously laugh and boil about the whole affair was The Sun’s “holier than thou” attitude to the whole thing. They talked of “depraved acts” and a “filthy past” etc. Hmm……when did The Sun’s hacks become monks then? What do they do in bed then…….lights off, fumbling for discrete flaps in nighties and flies in pyjamas (all flannelette of course) and a peck on cheek afterwards? This coming from a paper that has shown topless women on Page 3, some only teenagers, since time immemorial and has regularly revelled in printing covertly gained pictures of celebs in various stages of undress, whether on beaches or just “popping out” whilst at a ceremony. To think people still read this shite!
Later, GrocerJack.
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