KwAcKy's Konfessional |
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Nothing of interest; just mindless links to bikes Birmingham City Football Club and useless junk  
  
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27 March 2005
Happy Easter  I hope everyone had lots of Easter eggs and have pigged themselves silly. I had 2. Some way off my record of 18 but I can't see that record being broken unless I start buying them for myself. Pope John Paul attended Easter Mass but didn't look in the best of health. Given that he has had surgery on his thraot, I can't understand why people were hoping he would utter a few words. He did try but it was clear he was in pain. His Urbi et Orbi was read out by by Cardinal Angelo Sodano. It followed the standrad theme of "too much killing, not enough loving" Dr Williams on the other hand went for a more topical speech on mans obsesion with self and mortality. A bit heavy for a sluggish Sunday but true to the Christian belief that the soul is eternal and that our lives should not be governed by materialistic wants and needs. The resurrection isn't a happy ending to a sad story. It is the beginning of a new story. On to other stuff. I forgot that the clocks went forward, which is a bit of a pisser because I was due to start Karate lessons today. I thought I had slipped out of my pit at 9.20 so I idled about the house. It was only when I clocked the computer clock telling me that it was 10.40 that the penny dropped. 21 March 2005
He who laughs last laughs until next season      Thanks to Thongs for the last photo, which shows the away fans, or where they should be. I did promise Thongs a wicked weasel photo as a reward, but I reckon he'll like this link just as much. Something for the weekend? 14 March 2005
Dyno Run  Had the bike Dynoed. I was hoping for 100+ bhp but the bike has done just over 1,000 miles and so is still fairly tight. Most of the other guys are getting 101 or 102 BHP. The graph looks nice and smooth, as smooth as you can get for a 600 I suppose. I think I'll do a couple of track days and loosen things up and maybe a different end can, that one was designed for a ZX6r. Then I'll put it back on the dyno run and see if there's any difference. 12 March 2005
There's a place at the bar  David Tynan O'Mahony is no longer with us. The outspoken, critical yet astute Irishman has stubbed out his last and finally found out if God will go with him. Despite his obvious physical inability, Dave Allen managed to firmly raise 2 fingers to everything that was held to be above ridicule. Shunned, barred and even banned, Allen remained a firm favourite with [most] of the public. It was his warm and informal television persona that attracted audiences and, more often than not, controversy. Like the half cut man in the pub, he sat on his stool, smoked a cigarette and whipped one liners with the fluidity of a seasoned fly fisherman baiting for trout. Just like that bar fly, he would say things that most people wouldn't without the influence of intoxicants. Dave Allen had a stereotypical Irish upbringing, being taught by book and belt to fear the Church. "The institution you never laughed at in Irish society as a kid was the church, whether it be the Catholic Church or the Church of Ireland. It was alright to snigger at the Church of Ireland, but certainly not to laugh at the Church of Rome." That didn't stop him drawing venom from all quarters when he did an impersonation of the Pope. In fact, a lot of his material centred on faith, a territory most comics still refuse cross. I hope the bar stool doesn't stand empty for too long. "Goodnight, good luck, and may your God go with you." 08 March 2005
07 March 2005
A brain the size of a planet  Yep, HitchHikers Guide to the Galaxy is arriving to the large screen. Cracking TV series, rib tickler of a book and hopefully a film adaptation worthy of my time. Talking of my time, it's been wasted a lot recently due to that frigging shambles of a football club I support. After a stunning performance against Liverpool, Blues first chop me in the windpipe and kick me in the balls at Palace, then tell me I've won the lottery but lost my ticket at West Brom. I could rant about how shite Cunningham was, how Horsfield bullied Upson and Cunningham out of the game, spew bile about our inability to find a Blues player each time we passed (for pass read punted high into the air in a Hail Mary fashion) the ball, gibber in the Michael Foot fashion regarding our lack of heart, passion and basic footballing skills or mutter to myself in the "nutter on the bus who has spotted the spare seat next to you" style of later year about paying good money to watch such shite. But I won't. Talking of bus nutters, what has happened to them? It's rare for me to use public transport but when I do I expect to see/smell a follower of Ike in a badly stained shell suit pushing a tartan clad shopping trolley whilst sporting a nicotine yellow quiff. Care in the community isn't what it used to be. We need nutters in public. It reminds us slaves to the working system that there's a way out that offers peace and quiet as well as our names on the trial drugs guest list. Beinga bus ntter must be great. You can talk to anyone. You can go anywhere, you can do anything. They get served first in the shop. No one confronts the bus nutter. Everyone is shit scared of the bus nutter. They are the pissed stained, white lightning fuelled, modern society version of Jedi Knights. It's more than just a way out, it's a life style. Strange thing is, you don't see trainee bus nutters do you? No one with a new shopping trolley, or slightly ruffled but still not matted hair. Only a hint of amber staining on the finger tips or a slightly stained pair of tracksuit bottoms but no hint of stale cat piss. I reckon they train them in specialist temples. You have to get a licence before you're let out. You can imagine the test. You called the copper a cunt, you kicked the old ladies dog but you forgot to piss through the post office letter box and that school child left without crying. Better luck next time. |
