StreetCowboy

Gentlemen only pull their own pudding, but no offence taken; to take offence when none was intended is theft of the worst kind; or in this instance- wurst kind

My apologies - auto-correct run amok.

If there’s no Lorna sausage or potato scones you might as well be eating an English breakfast

I walked amongst them, back in the day, and what I found surprising about Americans was that they believed their own stories. Call it gullibility, call it faith, but that is the soul of the American Dream.

There’s nothing as over-rated as a bad shag, or as under-rated as a good dump.

A few years back, I was embarrassed about getting ushered to the front of the Covid-check queue at the supermarket as an “elderly” person - particularly since I had cycled there.

My 30 seconds' research indicates that there have been no significant nuclear accidents at the Thai reactor in the years since it opened. That might be 60+ years, or it might be about 50 years. If Wikipedia is to be trusted, there were three fatalities from a radiological incident in Samut Prakarn slightly more than 20 years ago. As far as I can tell, no injuries have been linked to last year's loss of radio-active material from a power station in Prachin Buri. The material was subsequently recovered.

Back in the day, my mate said, pointing “I’ve never understood transsexuals” ”I think if I had tits like that, I’d want to be a woman”

If you only want to go half-way, so to speak, elastration may be the way forward, and simple enough with a visit to your local stationers’.

If you’re considering a sex change, get a competent doctor lined up before you make a final decision - don’t “try it by yourself” for a few weeks to see how it works.

I was heading home from the office - not fanging it, but brisk enough, when I heard a pop that might have been something falling off, but there was no bouncing noise, couldn’t see anything behind me, couldn’t see anything missing… Sure enough, when I got home and tapped round the back wheel, I found a broken spoke - broken (or in retrospect - maybe unthreaded) at the rim end. So I cut it short and carried on to the Post Office. I’d not cut the stub short enough (how hard is it to unlace J-spokes from the hub? All my previous failures were at the hub, and I’d just cut the spoke off immediately above the nipple) Anyway, the stump was fouling, and since the bike shop was open later than the Post Office, I dropped it off for repair, and recorded another Walk en route home on Strava.

I was surprised how pleasant it was cycling on Sukhumvit Road. Although that was in October, so not so hot. SC

Mine sloped different ways, and I could only write with one hand, or the other.

I learnt to write with my right hand. It looks pretty much the same. Back in the day, I knew identical twins, one of whom was left-handed, the other contrary, and their writing was very similar, bar opposite slope.

It’s six years since Remembrance Sunday fell on Armistice Day, and I may be moved on next year, so we cycled to the National Monument today. A few more km round the leafy hills of KL, and then 15 km up and down the Federal Highway saw us to Spitalfields, where we were told - to our distress - this was the last day of Cider - buy one, free one… Last day! If they’d told us “today only” we’d have been happy