We4pon vs weapons

I have been copping a bit of grief over the last few days from people who object to me calling the owner of this car a "weapons grade spunk monkey".

My issue is not with the car per se. I prefer an old fashioned V8. Rice burners like this are just not my thing. I also don't get the idea of drifting. I prefer to get sideways on gravel. Doing it on a race track is soft compared to doing it on a rough country track. But that is not my issue either.

What I took issue with is the fucking silly number plate. A car is not a weapon. A car is a means of conveying people from one place to another, whether slowly or quickly. My view is that only someone with an exceptionally small penis would acquire a plate like that. The car actually looks like fun. Almost as much fun as waking up in the back seat of one of these at 2:30 in the morning as we blasted through a red light at 180km/h. And then another. And another. And another. And so on. Such was my youth.

Anyway, I thought I would give Mr WE4PON and his pals a quick lesson in what real weapons look like. I have actually carried and fired all of them in real life, rather than in a computer game.

Let's start with the M60, which I carried for a few years. Almost the most funnest weapon I have fired. An instructor, who had stooged around the Vietnam jungle for a year and knew what being shot at felt like, once rated me the best machine gunner in our regiment. He might have been buttering me up, but I don't think he was that sort of bloke. I loved this thing. Less efficient at cutting down trees than a chainsaw, but much louder and completely enjoyable.

A bit of Plastic Fantastic - the M16. Not a bad piece of kit. I certainly favoured it over the SLR when I moved into driving trucks - much easier to get in and out of the cab with the M16. However, I prefer the thump of 7.62 when shooting something.

The F1 sub-machine gun. This was being phased out as I was being phased in. I can load it, fire it, strip it and clean it; but apart from that, I thought it was a chunk of crap. Fun on the range though. For Mr WE4PON and his mates, think of it as an old school MAC-10.

The FN L1A1 SLR. Lovely bit of stuff. I was a bloody crack shot with one of these, being chosen to represent my regiment in competition for a shooting trophy. Didn't win the trophy - I am good, but not that good. I still dream occasionally of stripping and re-assembling one of these. I reckon I could still do it blind folded.

The Browning 9mm Hi-Power. Didn't get to use one of these very often, but they're a fun hand gun.

The heavy barrelled L2A1 version of the SLR. Rarely seen in my day. Only got to use it once.

Enough of rifles and so forth. Now to mines, such as the claymore. I have lost count of the number of times I set these up and took them down. Fun to watch them go BOOM on the range. Enormous fucking shotgun. Pink mist personified.

Fragmentation grenade. Only got to throw these live once a year. They're much harder to throw accurately than you might think. However, I played a lot of cricket in my youth, and was the only person on an urban warfare range than managed to throw one through a window from a distance. I was very chuffed with that. Once you've pulled the pin, it's a good idea to throw it rather than drop it (which one idiot did on the range).

The M72 rocket launcher. Only fired a few. Good fun. No range shoot was complete without at least one failing to fire (dodgy firing circuit) and having to be blown up with explosives.

The Karl Gustav. Big heavy bastard, louder than an AC/DC concert, more back blast than Michael Moore lighting a fart. Able to suck all the snot out of your nose, and all the fillings out of your mouth. Great for blowing koalas out of trees. Not sure it is any good at taking out tanks.

The M79 grenade launcher. Excellent at pinching the skin of the unwary between thumb and fore finger. Recoils like an angry water buffalo. Lobbing a grenade into a bunker at 150 metres is a strangely satisfying experience.

And I was even trained in using one of these - the bayonet. If all of the above fail or run out of ammo, there's always the pig sticker.

There are probably a few that I have forgotten, but that's not a bad list. As Crocodile Dundee would say, "That's not a weapon, this is a list of weapons".

Is Gillard encouraging young women to be sluts?

Go Julia:

The opposition leader has told The Australian Women's Weekly, in an article to be published on Wednesday, that he would advise his daughters not to give away their virginity "lightly".

It is "the greatest gift" you can give someone, he says.

Deputy Prime Minister Julia Gillard believes Mr Abbott's comments will leave many females fuming.

"These comments will confirm the worst fears of Australian women about Tony Abbott," Ms Gillard told reporters on Tuesday.

"Australian women don't want to be told what to do by Tony Abbott.

Discuss.

Garbage

We've had four rubbish collections since Christmas, and I still haven't disposed of all the packaging from the presents. The foam that shielded the largest present has been a particular problem.

In the Good Old Days, I would have dragged it into the middle of the yard and set fire to it. But these days, I feel that would be slightly irresponsible.

See how Green I have become in my old age?

The gleaming of the newbies

I got stuck behind this bloke for a minute or two today. He was having lots of trouble with his gears. He'd change up, then down, then up again, and appeared to not realise which lever controlled which gear set.

After 20 seconds or so, I figured he must be a newbie. His bike shone like crystal. His rear gear set was silver and gleaming (mine is black and crusty). His bike glided along silently - mine creaks and groans from 5 years of abuse and a dozen untightened bolts and worn out bearings.

His shoes were also shiny, whilst mine are scuffed and filthy. His shorts and jersey were also new and shiny - my jersey is pilled to death and my nicks are one fart short of this.

The kicker was his untoned calf muscles - serious roadies have calves that look like a sock full of snakes on speed.

At least he is giving it a go, so good luck to him. We all started out this way. I wonder if in five years time, he'll be zipping around on a creaking and slightly rusted and battle scarred bike, having worn out countless tyres and thinking, "That used to be me".

I hate people who cant rite proper

Google search must have chucked a few links in the direction of some rice burning revheads this week. I collected two comments on a post that I put up in October last year.

Pity the yung cretans cant spel nor rite proper.

What annoys this "peasant" is that the taxes he pays are sufficient to support at least a village full of idiots like these. It's on nights like these that I want to burn down the village and do my best Vlad the Impaler impersonation.

No, he needs to be in prison

From the SMH today:

Corporate regulators have launched an inquiry after a year 8 student engineered a $200,000 money laundering scam through some of Australia's leading banks.

The boy, 17, from the NSW South Coast, who cannot be named for legal reasons, obtained dozens of bank accounts and debit cards to aid a three-year crime spree. When his mother begged the banks to ban him, they ignored her or refused to discuss it.

In 2008, the teen was charged with eight counts of fraud. While on bail, he reoffended 10 times. Yet to this day he has served only a week in detention. His mother feared the only way to stop him was to contact all the banks.

What my son needs right now is a psychologist - and for the banks to accept liability.'

Sorry lady, your son needs to be locked up.

Bikes and knobs

I was looking at these photos today and trying to think why on earth I took them in the first place. What was it about these people that caught my eye?

With this bloke, I eventually worked out that I was intrigued by the upturned handlebar extensions. Not sure how those are supposed to work.

This one is easy - it shows part of a train of cyclists crossing the Pyrmont Bridge. One of the tricks that newbie commuters have to learn is the idea of getting into single file with complete strangers. The default mental condition for pedestrians crossing this bridge is for them to walk around aimlessly, changing direction without warning at the drop of a hat. In order to cut through the clutter, cyclists gather together in a train (or a snake) and play follow the leader. Woe to the pedestrian that decides to try and cut across the train whilst looking at their iPod and trying to find a better song.

The driver of this car came flying up behind me and then cut rudely in front of me about 10 feet short of the lights. I looked in the back window, and to my surprise, the driver was closer to 90 than 19. Lots of grey hair and wrinkles. When the light when green, they took off on the edge of burning rubber. I've been menaced by absent minded grannies before, but never cut up by a speeding bogan grannie.

Ah, my favourite variety of P-plate teenager. He's got an old Toyota Seca that lacks sufficient grunt to pull the skin off a fresh custard, but he's still removed all the identifying badges so that we might think he's driving a Shelby Cobra. The bog-standard grannie exhaust has been replaced by something the diameter of a space shuttle rocket booster. I love it when these pathetic lawn mowers take off at the lights - they launch like a one cylinder soviet tractor running on rancid sunflower oil. TWX 666 - you are the "knob of the week".

Early morning skinny buggers

My morning jaunt into work usually kicks off around 0700hrs. I had to wind that back a bit this week due to bastards booking earlier than usual meetings. That meant that I was hitting the Bay Run around 0630 or earlier.

Big deal, you say.

Well, normally I'd say that too.

Except I noticed one significant difference between those running and walking at 0630 and those doing the same at 0730.

About 10 kilos.

The only people up and about at 0630 were the very fit, skinny looking people. Those plodding around at 0730 were also pretty fit looking (compared to the average non-exercising tub of lard), but it was like the difference between your average gym junkie body builder and Arnie in his prime.

The only thing I can discern from that observation is that it's possible that the early risers and skinnier because they exercise for longer. If both groups need to be at work at say 0830, someone getting up half an hour earlier will crank out 2.5 extra hours of exercise and sweat per week. Over the course of a few months, that adds up. Or subtracts. Take your pick.

So if you want to lose weight, set the alarm for really early and walk much further than you normally would. Pretty simple concept.

Just hard to put into practice when the alarm goes off at Oh-dark-hundred.

Cruel

A doctor convicted of assaulting two cyclists in Brentwood by driving in front of them and slamming on his brakes was sentenced today to five years in prison, ending a case a judge described as a wake-up call about tensions between cyclists and motorists on Los Angeles' streets.

Read the whole thing.

They do things differently in the US.

Thompson was convicted of mayhem, assault with a deadly weapon -- his car -- and other serious charges. Jurors also found him guilty of reckless driving in an earlier incident in which prosecutors said he tried to hurt two other cyclists. He faced a maximum sentence of 10 years.

Over here, the usual punishment is to be whipped soundly with a wet lettuce leaf. If judges over here would mete out this kind of justice, I would feel less desire to carry a sidearm with me when riding.

Wierd

Had a very odd experience at the shops today.

Correction - make that two.

First one was that I was the only adult in the entire mall without a visible tattoo. I have long harbored the thought that publicly visible tattoos belong on three classes of people - sailors, criminals and prostitutes. I wish they had stayed that way. I was looking at the hipsters in their Green Day type black T-shirts with their Green Day type tattoos as they fed a banana to their 18 month old offspring; and I wondered, when they were getting inked up and hip, did they think they would be standing around in a mall a few years later feeding fruit to their offspring whilst their better half went nappy shopping? Life as a middle aged hipster must truly suck.

Second one was the mathematical ignorance of the masses. The woman in front of me at the checkout was buying three items at $5.69 each. The checkout chick (who happened to be a bloke) fed them through the scanner and announced that the total owing was seventeen dollars and five cents (the 7 being rounded down due to Australia no longer having one and two cent coins).

The woman became very agitated, and announced that "The price must be fifteen dollars something, as she bought three items for five dollars something".

It took me about one second to verify in my head that the cash register was in fact correct, and the woman was a moron. On closer inspection, she had a prison-type tattoo stating "nick" on one arm (a very ex-lover?) and a couple of other prison-type tats on the other arm. I reckon she was in her late 30's, but looked like she was late 40's. She had the shakes too - perhaps the effects of long term drug abuse?

The check out bloke restated the amount, took the offered twenty and gave her back the correct change. She collected her items, then stood at the end of the checkout adding up the change in her hand and looking at her receipt and visibly shaking. I could tell she was waiting for me to finish my transaction before launching into the checkout bloke. It was plain as day what was coming. I paid up and shot through, declining to get involved.

The thing is, at least she was able to multiply 3 times 5, which is more than most high school students can achieve today.

food, drink, sleep

When you do 90 minutes of reasonably intense exercise per day, your thoughts very quickly turn to food. I have not had time to watch any of the Tour Down Under this year, but I bet the riders spend their 3-4 hours per day in the saddle thinking about what they are going to have for dinner that night. When you are burning lots of calories, replacing them is the top item on the agenda.

When I started riding to work 5 years ago, I wasn't blogging, so I had nothing to distract me in the morning. I'd get up, do the usual ablutions, dress and leave. It was sometimes 10 minutes from eyes opening to front door opening.

Blogging killed all that. When I get up now, my first stop is the computer to see if Paco has updated overnight. He usually has, and I am then stuck there for half an hour whilst I catch up on the latest stuff. Once that became a habit, I started having a few slices of toast and a coffee at my desk.

After a while, the reasoning behind that was turned on its head. Suddenly, I had to have toast and coffee before a ride (lining the stomach etc etc), and if I was going to eat toast, I might as well eat it in front of a few blogs.

That all changed last week when I had to do a fasting blood test. That meant no toast and coffee before riding down to the medical clinic for a jab and a bit of bleeding into a tube. I thought the lack of a few carbs in the morning was going to kill me, but to my astonishment, not only did I feel great on the ride, but due to the detour for the blood draining experience, it was significantly longer than my usual route.

I've now ditched the pre-ride coffee, and have only one slice of toast before shooting out the door. That bit of toast has nothing to do with the ride - it's in case I arrive at the office and find a disaster has happened overnight and I don't get a chance to eat until lunchtime.

Several days went past this week with no coffee at all for the entire day, and I didn't miss it at all.

Then came today. Broken night's sleep (kids - explains everything). Feeling a bit shagged towards the end of the week after some mildly competitive commuting. It was time for coffee. Aaaaaah. I can live without it at the start of the week, but it's a must by the time the week is coming to an end.

Most bodacious food reviews I have seen in ages

A stunning new addition to my blogroll - except I really don't know where to park it: he needs food. Sounds just like me.

I am kicking myself that I started reading the restaurant reviews after having dinner. If I'd known about this earlier, I would be departing Newtown about now with a gut full of Indian grub.

The photos are all his own work too, and they're about eleventy zillion times better than anything I have ever produced in my life.

save the surprises for halloween

Watch for the kid. Wait for it, wait for it...

That kid was about an inch from being flattened in a way that would shock and awe his parents.

I hate people who do keep their dogs at heel

What is it about some dog owners? Do they like their pets, or are they trying to get them killed? I refer to the idiotic woman with the arse like a funicular who walks on one side of the path and allows her dog to walk on the other side. It wouldn't be too bad - if there wasn't a freaking leash connecting the two of them.

This short clips shows the type of traffic mayhem that I was faced with tonight - dodging and weaving through the dogs and pedestrians and other cyclists. I normally ride when there aren't that many people around - I had to work later than usual tonight, and I found myself in the non-motorised equivalent of rush hour. Lucky to make it home alive.

Monday photos

A couple of badly exposed, badly taken photos to start the week. We start with the first of a number of libertarians that I saw today - people cycling without helmets. The local Safety Nazis insist that we don proper headgear before venturing out for a quiet peramble around the locality. The forces of resistance appear to be gathering - as well as seeing a lot more cyclists on the road these days, I'm seeing more who are going nude up top. No plastic covers for them.

That said, this guy was a complete pansy who went up hills like a blanc mange.

The Electric Guy. I followed him for a short distance, and noted that whenever he hit a slope of some sort, I could hear a whine from his bike. When I got alongside, I could see the huge silver battery on the front tube of his frame - you can see the top half of it behind his right leg. Having power assist is a great way to avoid arriving at work in a sweaty lather (like me, with sweat generally dripping off my nose onto the carpet), but why ride if you're not going to do it in order to get the blood circulating at high speed? It's like having sex with an inner tube wrapped around your knob.

Courier vs cyclists

Yesterday I put up a short video of a courier or tradesman displaying the "going back to my car" method of dooring a cyclist. Today, we have the alternative - the "getting out of my car" method. In this instance, the very busy courier, who is too busy to bother looking before opening his door, nearly takes out two cyclists. Whilst parked illegally in a cycle lane.

The quality of this video is too poor to capture his first attempt at taking out the cyclists. He threw the doors open just as the lead cyclist tried to get around his van, and then pulled it closed to allow them past before chucking it open again - all you see here is the second hurling open of the door.

I should have let his tyres down as he ran across the road through the traffic to deliver a box to a cafe on the corner.

Guilty, and he knew it too

If there is one thing more annoying than a taxi being driven erratically or aggressively it's a taxi stopped in a very silly place. Like good old T 3212 here, stopped this morning in the No Stopping zone at the bottom of the ANZAC Bridge pedestrian/bike ramp. Taxis do this from time to time - even though the council has taken the trouble to paint a solid yellow line along the kerb to make it stunningly bleedingly obvious to anyone but the totally visually impaired that you are not to stop a car here.

There is a driveway just up the path a bit where you can still get off the path, but taking that route sometimes means dicing with residents who are tearing out of their underground car park. If the RTA and council wanted us to use the bloody car park ramp, the wouldn't have bothered building a ramp in this exact spot specifically for cyclists wanting to get onto the bridge.

It's not unknown for very peeved cyclists to slap the panel of taxis parked in this very spot. That of course only infuriates the drivers who feel that they have a God-given right to stop wherever they like, regardless of how inconvenient and dangerous their chosen spot turns out to be.

As the taxi is stopped on a steep hill that leads down to the Fish Markets and then the harbour, my preference would be to cut the brake lines and let gravity take its inexorable course.

Not a good day to be on two wheels

Two wheels of the motorised kind that is.

Whilst going on a shopping trip, I spotted an entire fleet of emergency vehicles parked on an on-ramp to the Gladesville Bridge. There must have been three ambulances and 4 or 5 Police cars. All I could see was one motorbike on its side. No sign of any other mangled vehicles. Either that motorbike was carrying 6 passengers, or the other vehicles involved were lost in a sea of flashing lights.

We came back a different way, which involved crossing the Harbour Bridge instead. One lane was blocked due to a crash, and as we went past a tow truck, I saw it was being loaded with a scooter. Again, no sign of any bingled cars in the vicinity.

Maybe it was a good day to be on two wheels, and a bad day to be coming off them.

Greens having problems doing maths

The top link on my sidebar goes to Mark Mann, a relatively new green blogger at the Daily Telegraph.

I'm not sure where they found him, but he manages to put his foot in it in almost every post.

Take this one before Christmas, where he said:

I’m in England at the moment… an opinion poll for The Guardian yesterday found 95 per cent of Britons believe humans are warming the planet.

But in the same poll, 45 per cent said climate change was important but politicians “must not lose sight of the need to maintain human prosperity”.

Thanks to the Evil Google, it took me about 2 minutes to find the Grauniad article that he was referring to. Here are the charts that went with it.

The interesting thing is that the original poll in the Grauniad said no such thing as "95 per cent of Britons believe humans are warming the planet".

• 5% said the planet is not getting warmer.
• 6% said they didn’t know.
• 33% said planet getting warmer due to natural forces.
• 56% said humans are to blame.

Big difference between 95% and 56%.

Mark must have gone to the same school as Al Gore. What a cretan*.

*Yes, I know this is the wrong spelling. It's an in-joke.

Not understanding the road rules

If there is one thing I expect a taxi driver to know, it's the road rules. From my observations as a cyclist, driver and taxi passenger, either a lot of drivers don't know the rules, or they just can't be arsed following them. I'd be interested to know what the case is.

Here's a simple one - note the red "no stopping" sign in the top left hand corner, and the taxi conveniently stopped in the cycle lane. If I dared to stop in a taxi zone, I am sure that half a dozen taxi drivers would beat me to death.

And just to show that T 1652 is in fact stopped, here's another photo taken a few seconds later, showing the hazard lights blinking.

Taxis are allowed to stop in "no stopping" zones, but only in the Sydney Central taxi district. I'm afraid that starts about 3km east of here.

On to more pleasant things, here is another cyclist with a Global Corporate Challenge backpack.

That is all.

How to door a cyclist in a few simple steps

Even with the proliferation of cycle lanes, those of us on two wheels face the constant daily hazard of being doored. That goes for motorcyclists as well. Here's a simple guide to how to do it.

Step 1 - walk out from in front of your van without bothering to look around the corner before you step out. This by the way is a great way to get hit by passing taxis.

As you walk to the driver's door, don't bother looking up at the traffic. Even better have your head down as you chat on your mobile phone.

Don't bother looking at the traffic as you open the door. Just ignore everything that is happening on the road behind you.

Throw the door open as rapidly as possible and even better, step backwards onto the road into the path of passing traffic.

Here's a quick video of the same event. As this happens fairly regularly, I don't get complacent when in the saddle and am constantly on the lookout for idiots like this. However, given that all this unfolded in just a few seconds, it just shows how even a moment's inattention can lead to disaster.

Confusion

Some sort of guided walking tour crossing the bridge. Most of them stayed on their side of the path, but a few decided to wander into my lane for a look over the edge. Fair enough, but none of them bothered to look my way before walking into the "traffic". Much frantic arm waving, yelling and in the end - pulling - took place to avoid a collision. My perils don't start and stop with taxis.

Taxi 960 - impatient bugger

What is it about Friday bringing out the fuckwits?

Especially taxi drivers.

Here's a snap of the taxi T 960 illegally overtaking me this morning by crossing over a double white line to get around me. He'd been behind me at the red light just back down the hill, and was obviously unimpressed with my acceleration, for no sooner was I across the intersection than he blatted around me. At least he gave me a wide berth, which is a nice change.

Didn't do him any good - he got stuck at the next intersection, and I simply went around him. Tool.

Disclaimer - the next three taxis that I saw were driven in a calm, considerate and professional manner. So it's nice to know that only 25% of the taxi drivers that I encountered this morning were insane boofheads who found their licence in a weeties packet.

Suffer in your jocks

There is a street on my way into work where I always have problems with impatient drivers. They either fail to give way to me at the lights, or they overtake when it's unsafe to do so. The street is narrow thanks to cars parked on both sides, and I always take a wide line in order to see residents pulling out of their driveways.

As I was heading down the road this morning, I spotted a prang about 100 metres up ahead. Just after I saw it, a cop started crossing the road - he's marked in red in the first photo.

So I didn't hammer it down the hill as usual - I took it easy. The dickhead behind me wasn't looking that far ahead - he beeped at me and roared past. About a second after he got in front, he slammed on the brakes after spotting the cops, smashed cars and the tow truck. You can see a tow truck on the right in the next photo.

And then there is the cop car. Driver of BB 77 HV - you are a pinhead.

And here's a clip to go with it. Just look how far ahead of me dickhead was when we reached the roundabout at the bottom of the hill. I hope it was worth all the honking and aggravation. Boy, how I wish the cop crossing the road had seen his maneuverer, and pulled him over for a good talking to.

Friday photos

This bloke is wearing a GCC backpack - which stands for Global Corporate Challenge. I did it a few years ago, before I started cycling seriously. Very good idea - I suggest you give it a go this year if possible.

Some fixed gear cyclists take the minimal approach very seriously. This bloke was so serious about attaching nothing to his bike that instead of carrying his water bottle in a water bottle holder, he had it in his back pocket. Same goes for the pump. If you ask me, that's taking things a bit far.

Interesting thing about this bloke is that you may note that the cyclist in front and to his left is jumping the red light. The fixie rider yelled out, "That's a red light, mate". That's the first time I've seen one cyclist tell another off.

If you put the phone down, you might figure out how to park your car

Twats. They're everywhere. I flipping hate them. Especially twats who try to reverse park whilst yapping on their mobile phone. Note to twats: it generally takes two hands to park a car speedily and expeditiously, and it helps if you are concentrating on the task at hand and watching what you are doing.

Here is a case in point - the black car. This clip goes for 8 seconds, and in that time, this twat was completely incapable of getting their car into a wide open spot. The sooner we start rectally inserting telephones into people like this, the better.

Nazi cyclist

I know - it's a lousy still grabbed from a grainy video. But trust me - the guy on the right, coming towards us, is a Nazi cycle courier. I've seen this bloke around a bit - he is covered in ink, has a grey handlebar moustache and has lately taken to wearing a German army helmet. That's different.

Why crossing double white lines is not a good idea

Bit of a close call for the bloke in front of me.

Traffic jams of a new sort

Heading home this evening, I got stuck in a new phenomena for me - the bicycle traffic jam. Due to the vagaries and vicissitudes of traffic light phasing, packs of a dozen or more bikes quickly form during the evening peak hour as we head out of town. The pack dissolves once we hit the ANZAC bridge - the speedy fellows take off, and the stragglers dawdle across well behind.

14 bikes, and not one of them jumped the red light. That is something else I've never seen before!

An office-type worker heading into the city. Nice elastic sided boots!

Unintended consequences

I am a fan of a hi-viz style of jersey when riding. I go all out to ensure that drivers will never be able to stand up in court and say, "I didn't see him". If they said that, the jury would laugh them out of the witness stand after seeing the luminous monstrosities that I wear.

I got to wondering today about the unintended consequences of more and more cyclists attiring themselves like me. Sales of flourescent cycling accessories appear to be booming - everyone who rides a bike soon becomes paranoid about being hit by a dopey car driver. Many are too afraid to even cycle on quiet roads because of their paranoia about being collected.

What happens though when a tipping point is reached in hi-viz cycling gear, and we find that say 80% of cyclists are riding around in day-glo, and 20% and still in normal street clothes. Will we discover that motorists become so conditioned to seeing day-glo, that they utterly fail to see cyclists clad in a normal way?

I think this has already happened with motorbikes and the requirement to have the headlight on during daylight. I've seen a car almost collect a motorbike that had no headlight showing - the driver was conditioned to see a light, and when there wasn't one there, the brain refused to acknowledge the presence of a motorbike.

Food for thought.

Incompetent farking quacks

I was feeling a bit off my game last week, so I went to see a local quack. After waiting for 2 hours, I got my 5 minutes with him. I told him what was wrong, and he recommended doing some blood tests. He printed out a form and told me to come back one morning to see the nurse to get some blood drawn. He also told me not to eat for 12 hours before the test.

I showed up the next day, first thing in the morning, and after waiting for half an hour, I got to see the nurse. She started by asking me where my urine sample was.

My what?

Not only had the quack forgotten to tell me that I needed to piss in a cup as soon as I woke up, but he also forgot to give me a cup to piss in, and stuffed the times up by telling me not to eat for 12 hours before the test. The nurse told me to eat nothing after midnight, and to come back the following day.

I now have a small hole in one arm, and I managed to shoot straight this morning. I'll know in two days whether it was just a momentary blip in my otherwise normally healthy existence, or if I am showing signs of wear and decline.

Resolutions

It appears that lots of people made a New Year's resolution to start riding to work. I think the bloke in this photo is one of them. He was slow, had no idea about how to pass pedestrians, and within 30 seconds of being trapped behind him, there were at least a dozen other cyclists jammed up behind me. It's all very well resolving to get fit or save money on buses or whatever - but I do wish these people would not all decide to start riding at the same time. They clog up the cycle ways with more gusto than an Exxon Valdez full of clag.

Speaking of things weighing a lot, the woman on this bike demonstrated what mass (or a lack of it) can do. I caught up with her as I was coasting down a hill, and I had to brake to avoid crashing into her. She was pedalling by the way. She kept on rotating those pedals as we started going uphill, but I had to remain on the brakes. I had so much momentum, I was in danger of rear-ending her going up hill. (This was a tricky action shot to get by the way, as I was constantly on the brakes to avoid taking her out. She simply wasn't heavy enough to go fast).

Interesting attire - perhaps another gent who has made a resolution. He's wearing a white singlet and baggy shorts. He was anything but sartorial.

Cool view of the bridge.

I haven't really worked out how to take photos from side on and slightly to the rear, so this photo misses the salient feature which is that the cyclist has her helmet dangling from the handlebars. I can understand not wanting to ride with a helmet - your head gets all sweaty and it messes up your hair - but what is the point of taking one with you but not wearing it?

Her partner in crime, looking very relaxed.

Amazing insights

Someone is running around the back blocks of NSW shooting brumbies - wild horses. I'm ambivalent about that. But forget my feelings on the matter, and check out this amazing statement from the Fairfax press:

Police say the gunman, who may have accomplices, is shooting at wild horses ''indiscriminately'' with an unlicensed high-powered rifle.

That's an interesting outcome from a forensic examination. The Police can tell from looking at bullet holes in horses, and possibly shell casings, that the shooter is using an unlicensed rifle.

How, prey tell, did they determine that the firearm is unlicensed? Unless it's .50 cal, which you'd never get a license for in Australia, that is a pretty big stretch. Either a cop has opened his mouth and said something silly, or Fairfax is making it up... again.

Unlicensed is one of those lovely, prejudicial words that Fairfax loves to throw around at times like this, making the perp sound even more bad-ass. He has to be caught - and now! - because he has an unlicensed firearm! Arrgh - we're all going to die! etc etc etc.

Excuse me while I yawn and turn the page.

Never let the government cut your lawn

In our part of suburbia, we have to cut our own lawn verges. That means that some are left to grow wild, but most are beautifully trimmed and well looked after.

Over in Leftist Leichhardt, where the Greenies and Labor hold sway, the council mows the verge.

Their modus operandi is to let the grass grow until it is way too long, then cut it back to far, and to then leave a spray of lawn clippings over all and sundry. A house proud owner over this way would never do such a thing.

Just goes to show that government can screw up even the simplest of tasks.

It's a worry...

It's a worry when you are getting a haircut, and the barber trims more hair off your ears than your neck.

Why?

Why, no matter where you are, does Target attract pairs of enormous lesbians?

Why is it so hard to buy an internal hard drive these days? All you can get from shops these days are external ones.

Why do we continue to buy cheap, badly made rubbish from China when it usually falls apart within days, if not hours?

That's gotta hurt - truck on its side

I did a Google search on this and found only one mention of it at the RTA website. It must have caused merry hell for traffic on Wednesday night. It's on Victoria Rd, as you come off the ANZAC Bridge.

Thursday photos

I have been feeling a bit flat of late - the Christmas break seems to have sucked the life out of my muse. I have therefore had to fall back on posting photos of other cyclists.

A fold up bike - a very nifty design. I see a few of these every week. The engineering on them is quite marvelous, and they zip along much faster than I ever expected. The price tags on the good ones are pretty hefty though.

The other end of the spectrum - the Simple Cyclist. He had a very basic bike, and no flash riding gear, but he still made good progress. It's not about the bike....

Big panniers, and cable ties attached to her helmet (they don't show up in this photo). I guess she rides through an area full of dive bombing magpies.

Something I don't see too often - a line of bikes taking the back route into The Rocks. There was another guy up front (masked by the bloke on the left) and another behind me. Have people been making New Year's resolutions to ride?

3 silly people

The press has been full of road safety issues this week after a horror run of crashes and deaths on NSW roads over the Christmas break. Imagine my surprise then when I was toodling down Lilyfield Rd this morning when I spotted 3 pedestrians up ahead trying to zip across the road between fast moving cars. I saw them long before the video camera picked them up - they would step out, see a car coming, step back; step forward when it had passed, see another car coming and then step back again. Yet less than 50 metres down the hill, there is a safe pedestrian crossing. Why did they decide to cross here rather than just down the road where cars would stop for them?

I know the video is a bit grainy, but see if you can identify the nature of the employment of these three pedestrians.

Hint: blue uniforms and sidearms should help.

Starting the clock on a new year

I gave up making new year's resolutions about 20 years ago. No use making a promise you know you'll never keep.

The only different thing that I have done this year is to note the mileage on my bike odometer at the start of my first ride - 3745km. I replaced the odometer a year or two back, and have already gone through the first battery change out. I am pretty sure I totalled up 11,000km on the first odometer, and at least 3000km on the first battery on the new one. But in reality, I have no idea how many kilometres I have done on this bike. I know it is somewhere between 15,000 and 20,000.

Let's see how far I get in 361 days time.

I exist

Had a wonderful Christmas break - an e-free existence if you like. I didn't lay hands on a computer for 11 days, used a phone once and saw about an hour of TV in total. Managed to read a few books, drive a lot of miles and spend heaps of time with the family.

Back at work. It's going to be a sloooow week. 90% of the company is still on leave. If things had gone better just before Christmas, I'd be part of that 90%. I have a week to clean up unresolved crap.

Some bastard nicked my bar of soap from the showers over the holidays, so I had to wash this morning with that nasty hand cleaner that you find in office bathrooms. I smell like a cross between a toilet lolly and chamomile. I am so thankful I am the only one at work in my particular area.