A bank holiday for me dominated by bikes.
Briefly interupted by some bible-bashers who knocked on my door to ask about Jesus's message for Easter. I told them that I was a pagan and my mesage was that we had it first and that the bloody Christians (with the help of those bastard Romans) had nicked OUR festival of Aeosta. (It's easier than telling them you're an atheist and then trying to reason with them).
Anyway, Good Friday to the Ace Cafe - there is a hog roast and some sort of promotional nonsense going on for the new 'Wild Hogs' film coming out this week. There is a large attendance from the weekend-badass mid-life crisis brigade that seem to be missing the point that the film is primarily taking the piss out of them. Still, its a sunny day with plenty of nice bikes to look at.(Just as footnote to this, I find it hilarious that the Hells Angels MC are suing Walt Disney for infringement of copyright in the authorised use of their logo in the film).
Saturday I turn up for an Easter Egg Run to a kids centre from the local indie Harley shop. I find that it was last week. Feeling a bit of a prat I sit around the shop for an hour drinking tea and bullshitting before riding round to the Ace again and doing the same there.
Easter Monday is the annual ride out to Southend. A glorious day of sunshine and thousands of bikes make the run, for a brief moment you think that the A127 is route 66 and the flatlands of Essex the plains of the Mid-West. Southend never fails to disappoint though - the British seaside at its very worst, a shrine to the god of Chav. I catch a couple of numbers from a rock-a-billy band , soak up some sun and then beat a hasty retreat home.
Then this morning I got the bike out to go to work and the drive belt snapped. Bollocks. And double-bollocks.
Briefly interupted by some bible-bashers who knocked on my door to ask about Jesus's message for Easter. I told them that I was a pagan and my mesage was that we had it first and that the bloody Christians (with the help of those bastard Romans) had nicked OUR festival of Aeosta. (It's easier than telling them you're an atheist and then trying to reason with them).
Anyway, Good Friday to the Ace Cafe - there is a hog roast and some sort of promotional nonsense going on for the new 'Wild Hogs' film coming out this week. There is a large attendance from the weekend-badass mid-life crisis brigade that seem to be missing the point that the film is primarily taking the piss out of them. Still, its a sunny day with plenty of nice bikes to look at.(Just as footnote to this, I find it hilarious that the Hells Angels MC are suing Walt Disney for infringement of copyright in the authorised use of their logo in the film).
Saturday I turn up for an Easter Egg Run to a kids centre from the local indie Harley shop. I find that it was last week. Feeling a bit of a prat I sit around the shop for an hour drinking tea and bullshitting before riding round to the Ace again and doing the same there.
Easter Monday is the annual ride out to Southend. A glorious day of sunshine and thousands of bikes make the run, for a brief moment you think that the A127 is route 66 and the flatlands of Essex the plains of the Mid-West. Southend never fails to disappoint though - the British seaside at its very worst, a shrine to the god of Chav. I catch a couple of numbers from a rock-a-billy band , soak up some sun and then beat a hasty retreat home.
Then this morning I got the bike out to go to work and the drive belt snapped. Bollocks. And double-bollocks.
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