Friday, 30 December 2011

Fixie cool

I would totally love to hate people who ride fixie bikes and think that being a dickhead is cool. But alas, they are just so pretty. The bikes, that is. The people usually have try-hard haircuts. Anyway this is one of the prettiest bikes I've come across so far.

Sadly, cycling is one of those things that is so much more fun when you aren't doing it than when you are. You only ever remember the downhills, not the throbbing in your thighs as you tackle and inevitably fail to ride up the ups. And that bit is so embarrassing. Nobody wants to be seen pushing a bike up a hill, it looks just as bad as running down a hill after a skate-board would. Just plain stupid. Nevertheless, I'd be really happy if I owned this bike. Ain't it a beaut?

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Another offensive twerp

So I'm standing in the sleazyjet line waiting to be allowed on their shit airplane so that I can fly to Holland to see the boy. (He is one of those foreign types you see.) Anyway, I'm just standing there in Priority B with almost everybody else except the people in suits and those accompanied by small people less than... shall we say four feet tall. And this man next to me starts chatting. He was one of those men with cheeks permanently stained red. The way that most normal people look only after standing at a cold bus-stop for 40 minutes. And he was badly shaven and smelt a little bit of mould.

He turns to me and nudges his head at the suits in Priority A. "Bastards," he says, really quite loud, "Whats the point in paying for speedy-boarding. The plane ain't going to get there any quicker for them lot."

"Yeah, totally" I murmur in reply.

"So, you been to Holland before?" he growled. But before I had time to say yes, he assumed I was going to say no, and proceeded to tell me how shit the whole country is. Especially Amsterdam, apparently, everyone there is just 'of their 'edds the owl time.'

At about that point I interjected that I quite liked Amsterdam, and had visited the previous year. That shut him up for a bit. I was thrilled. I thought I'd won the battle. But alas, no. About three minutes passed. I was getting cocky. Doing a triumphant dance in my mind and humming 'We Are the Champions.' When suddenly:

"So. Where you from?"

"North london" I sigh, praying that the plane would be ready for boarding soon.

"Oh wow.  Its a nice area, north London. Very rich area." (This is hardly true, north london does have wealthy parts, but it also has some of the worst council estates in the whole of the city... but i decided to let the generalisation slide).

"I suppose so. I live quite far out though."

"Well you know its only rich because of all them Jews. They like the money, y'know." He then looked at me inquisitively. "You ain't one of them are you? Ain't Jewish?"

"No." I sigh. But of course I am. I've got the nose and everything.