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Cool.
I can drop off at most places 7pm weeknights.

80mm Quill.
Yours for a £5...?

Truth. There's always a counter movement when something that's hip becomes so omnipresent that deliberately not having it is the new having it, and having it becomes almost as lame as accidentally not having it.

It's not cool 'cos it's rude.
It's cool 'cos it looks like it's cool 'cos it's rude.

Arseholes applauding their own farts...?

S'windy no'mo'...

My experience with Knogs so far is that once you have wrestled the unit out of the rubber a couples of time to change battery the whole thing is so baggy it lets moisture in and the little bleeder shorts.

Don't really see that this will be any different.

And the burn time,
These will go for 30hrs per charge (aparently), unlike the Fleas 5hrs.

2 - 0

Wouldn't ride it fixed if I were you.

That parts list smells like snap, cracked and can't stop.

As far a I'm aware GIPIEMME never made frames, but certainly made drop outs.
Colnago and Bianchi have used them at various stages.

dibs the brakeset

Just found A Sunday In Hell, in all it's full length glory on YousTubes.

Oh God...
I'm so so sorry to hear this.

RIP Dan
Friends and family, you have my thoughts and my love.

Jesus!
This is turnout out to be a horrible horrible couple of days.

Pum Pum...
Meant pretty much what I expected it to. Disappointingly.

Bike advice...?
It's Dog Chutney.

Dibs chain tool and pedal spanner

Sorry to hear that HYD.
I cycled past about 2 mins after it happened.
Plenty in attendance so I didn't stop.

Fingers crossed for Dalston Rider.

Please cycle safe people.

Anyone got any ideas where I might find some brake pads for this group...?
I have made do with a stanley blade and some whittled standard blocks but would be interested to know if there are any NOS knocking about.
Tried the FleaBay etc.

Kitty Cowell makes me want to self harm
Konnie Huq makes me want to self pollute.

Delightful.

I fucking love a good glacier...

Walked through the Mont Blanc one a couple of years ago.
It's like a massive frozen crashing wave, and by its very nature it's moving - albeit slowly.
You can hear the whole ice mass creaking and cracking.
Made me all kicky legs giddy

Random Google images pic for illustration

Tomasito...
I enjoyed that a lot. Very nice.

One of mine;

Felicity Kendalls apron is flecked with paint
From making house for five days straight
And while this heaven feels like home
We'll need to call on some restraint

Restraint from you / Restraint from I
We know this home cannot provide
All that we both need
Think. Too quick to proceed

Graphic representations of what we believe
Leaves paper blank, brings me to my knees
While vocal vocals vocabulary spill
Digs us deep and deeper still

Yet I crave this madness
Blank pages fill
Utterings, stutterings, but... but... butterings
So this is where I lay my head
Undress these thought and put them to bed.

what would you want for it built...?

Got told in the LBS this weekend that Bonty have discontinued the Racelite Hardcase.
Shame. I liked them.

So I had to get a pair of gatorskins instead.
They roll noticabley faster but defo have less grip.
As for the puncture protection. We'll see

A man goes to the pub and gets very very drunk, swerves his way home and struggles to get his key in the lock.
Finally bursts through the front door to find his wife sitting on the sofa waiting for him.

"That's it" She says, "I've had enough of your drinking. If you can't do a month sober then our marriage is over"

The man agrees to this ultimatum.

The next week he ends up going to the pub after work with a mate.
"It's only one drink" he thinks.
"She'll never know" he thinks.

But one drink turns into three, which turns into six and he ends up getting so shitfaced he is sick all down his front.
"Oh Christ" He says to his drinking partner, "That's it, my marriage is over she will surely leave me"
But his mate has hatched a plan.
"Easily solved dear friend. All you need to do is put a twenty pound note in your top pocket, go home and tell you wife that someone was sick on you in the pub while you were enjoying a tomato juice. And look here's the proof! He gave you £20 to get your shirt dry cleaned"

Genius.

So our sick soaked protaganist wanders home in the sobering night air and returns to his wife.

Again she is waiting for him with the cold look of a woman wanting divorce.

She takes one look at hime and cries "That's it! It's Over!"

"But my love, it's not what you think!
Someone was sick on me in the pub while i was enjoying a tomato juice. Look in my top pocket. He gave me £20 to get my shirt dry cleaned"

His wife wanders over to his puke stained shirt and pulls out two twenty pound notes.

"But theres £40 here?" She says.

"I know"
"He shat in my pants too"

Found myself singing a mish mash of lines from Joanna Newsome's Y's album this morning.

Needless to say my pace wasn't what it could've been.