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Out shopping on the Tidler. Got some L plates as Shadow is going back on the road . But apparently I have to take the dog shit top box off first

Just picked our dog up from the vet. He had vomititus at midnight on Thursday which got so bad that he was throwing up blood. No Idea what caused it and it was bloody scary, but £2000 and lots of worry later and he seems OK now thankfully.

From our local and favorite motorcycle road

Happy birthday old mate

He would have been 72 today and probably getting bummed by a dago midget in an abandoned building.

I believe it was Pete’s birthday today (according to Facebook). Hopefully he’s misbehaving wherever he is.

Well today is Leo's 2nd birthday..... how has time gone so quick.... im sure it was only yesterday that he was born

After a hard night, got up at around 10 and made it out by 11, 600 km later and i’m in Faro. One stop for lunch, one for fuel and one to warn of my eta. 28 to 30° all day.

So the cam plate is pretty good, not perfect but perfectly serviceable. So with that in mind I'm dipping into my savings and getting all the good stuff.

I have suspended Marcel from accessing the site until the 11th of May, this isn’t a topic that is open for discussion, he seems intent on being a selfish little prick and ruining the site for everyone with his incessant drivel.

I have been in that place, very very hard to discribe the pain..Then my new bike was delivered the day i was at the low point.. I know it sounds naff...but the bike and the thought of not being around to ride free in the fresh air changed my mind. The first time....Ren and Pete,and a few others helped me thou they did not know at athe time.. Stay focused folks and talk to your mates..just cos we are men does not make us super hero's..Talk. PS: i have now seen the light...It is biking and your mates.

It's a side business Sofia started, we do custom guided tours tailored to what people look for. We try to keep it simple and casual like if you were to go on a road trip with a friend showing you around, so no support vehicles or anything like that. We haven't done many, it's basically going from word of mouth. On this trip all bikes are rented from a partner here that has a nice fleet of bikes from scooters to R1300GSA, in this case they're going to be three different sizes of CF Moto, a Transalp and an Africa Twin. We've had people coming from the UK on their own bikes though, and we meet them on the border or exiting a motorway somewhere.

It's going to be 2200km in total, starting and ending in the same town in the Algarve because most are flying from Cork and the only direct flights are to Faro. 8 days riding so people arrive during the afternoon before and leave the day after, to them it's 10 days here. Faro is lovely because it pretty much guarantees nice weather for the start and end of the trip. Shorter distance planned for one day is 250km, longest is 360km, but I can improvise to get away from the weather or take them somewhere more challenging if we feel like, it's all away from bigger roads except one day we hop on a motorway for a couple of hours to go and visit the AJP factory, which is interesting to them as two or three have AJPs at home. We'll have two nights sleeping in the same place in the Douro valley so on that day it'll either be off the bikes or anything from 100 to 300km according to their desire to do more or less, being me and Sofia also means we can split the group if some want to ride and others want to go visit a vineyard, go on a boat ride or just hang around the pool. Older rider is almost 75, I think, and younger is into his 60s but I'm told they're bike fit. It's all inland, so far away from coastal towns and big cities except first and last night. We'll eat mostly in typical unpretentious places, so they'll get a taste of the food as well, including a night in which I might cook a nice beef BBQ on coals. I hope it's good weather, the forecast was gloomy a few days ago but now it's looking like it's improving day by day. It'll be the biggest tour Sofia has organized, with 7 bikes plus us 2, usually we do 1 to 3 and I prefer that but they're a close group of friends who usually wouldn't want a tour guide except they're treating this as a no planning week with their friends.

Stopping by my mechanic today to take off the current tires and put the gay dunlops back on. The current ones have a while to go yet but next week I'm going to be taking a group of Irish around the whole of Portugal, and I don't think there's enough life left in them for that. It'll be a very cool trip if the weather cooperates, but 2200km, plus getting to the Algarve and back as that's where we're starting and finishing.

I am currently staring at a hole in my back door where a smart cat flap used to be, while my 165-pound black-and-white Mantle Great Dane sleeps beside it like a fallen medieval knight who lost a battle against architecture. This morning, Moose attempted to use the cat door. Not look at it. Not sniff it. Use it. With his whole enormous head, half his shoulders, and the blind optimism of a creature who has never once compared his body to an opening before committing. For context, I installed a smart cat flap last night. A tiny, expensive, microchip-activated door for the cat. It was supposed to let her go into the enclosed porch without letting in neighborhood cats, raccoons, wind, bugs, emotional drama, or whatever else lives outside and pays no rent. It was marketed as “pet independence.” That was the first lie. The second lie was “easy installation.” The third lie was “suitable for multi-pet households.” Multi-pet households apparently means two cats and a hamster, not a Great Dane shaped like a dining table with feelings. The cat tested it last night. She walked up to the flap. It beeped. It unlocked. She slipped through gracefully like a tiny criminal using a secret tunnel. Moose saw this. Moose froze. His ears lifted. His forehead wrinkled. His entire face said, “The wall has accepted her.” I said, “It’s not for you.” Moose blinked. He heard, “Investigate the magic portal tomorrow at dawn.” So this morning, at 6:31, the cat walked to the back door and used her new flap. Beep. Click. Swish. Gone. Moose, who had been sleeping in the hallway with his legs spread out like a collapsed ironing board, lifted his head so fast his jowls slapped the floor. The cat had vanished through solid wood. There are moments when you can see a thought forming inside a dog’s head. With Moose, it takes longer because the thought has to travel through a neck the length of a garden hose. But I saw it arrive. The cat had been consumed by the door. Rescue mission required. I was in the kitchen making coffee, because I still start every morning believing I live in a normal house. That is adorable. Moose stood up. When Moose stands up, the room changes zoning categories. He walked to the back door, lowered his enormous microwave-sized head, and stared at the cat flap. It beeped again. Not because Moose was approved. Because the cat was on the other side, probably watching this unfold like premium theatre. Moose took the beep as consent. He shoved his nose into the flap. I turned around just in time to see my Great Dane trying to enter a door designed for an animal who weighs less than one of his ears. I shouted, “Moose, no!” He heard, “Push harder, the portal is resisting.” He pushed harder. The flap opened halfway. His nose went through. Then his muzzle. Then his jowls. Then his entire head became involved in a business decision nobody approved. For one breathtaking second, he was stuck halfway through the cat door, with his giant body inside the house and his face outside on the porch. The cat screamed. The small dog screamed. I screamed. Moose did not scream, because Moose was busy discovering that ambition has consequences. Then he tried to back out. Unfortunately, the cat flap had opinions. The plastic door caught behind his ears. The little frame popped loose. The screws made a sound like tiny bones giving up. And then Moose reversed into the kitchen wearing the entire smart cat door around his neck like a luxury travel collar for livestock. I dropped my coffee spoon. Moose turned. The flap swung against his chest. Click. Click. Click. He looked down. The door clicked again. Moose panicked because now the wall was following him. He bolted. When a normal dog panics, things fall over. When Moose panics, the house files an insurance claim by itself. He ran into the mudroom. The cat door frame clacked against his collar. He thought it was chasing him. He spun. His hip hit the shoe rack. Six shoes launched into the air. One muddy boot landed in the dog water bowl. The water bowl tipped. A small indoor flood began, because apparently the kitchen needed a moat. The small dog ran through the water, looked personally betrayed, and immediately began barking at the wet floor like it had insulted her bloodline. Moose backed into the umbrella stand. This was unfortunate. Because one umbrella opened. Not gently. Not politely. It exploded open with the force of a cartoon lawsuit. Moose saw a giant black umbrella bloom behind him and decided the cat portal had released a winged demon. He launched forward. The umbrella handle caught in the loose cat-door frame around his neck. Now my Great Dane was running through my kitchen wearing a cat flap and dragging an open umbrella beside him like Mary Poppins after a nervous breakdown. I said, “Stop!” He heard, “Add speed.” He added speed. His giant paws hit the water. His legs separated into four competing departments. His front end turned left. His back end submitted a different proposal. The umbrella spun. The cat door clacked. The small dog barked from a chair she absolutely did not remember climbing. The cat reappeared through the hole in the back door, saw Moose wearing her doorway, and made the face of someone watching a roommate destroy a security deposit. Then my phone started dinging. Once. Twice. Ten times. I looked down. The smart cat flap app was sending alerts. “Unrecognized animal detected.” Ding. “Entry attempt blocked.” Ding. “Unrecognized animal detected.” Ding. “Unusual pressure detected.” Ding. “Possible large animal interference.” Possible. Large. Animal. Interference. I looked at Moose, who was skidding sideways across the kitchen wearing half a door and a haunted umbrella. Possible seemed generous. Then the app sent one more notification. “Pet profile suggestion: Raccoon.” I laughed so hard I lost my grip on the counter. Moose is 165 pounds. Moose is black and white. Moose is the size of a starter apartment. And this expensive smart device looked at him and said, “Suspicious raccoon.” Technology is not ready for this family. At that exact moment, my husband came downstairs. He was holding a toothbrush. He stopped halfway. There was water on the floor. A muddy boot in the dog bowl. A cat sitting in a broken hole in the door like a smug hotel receptionist. A small dog barking from a dining chair. An umbrella rotating slowly in the kitchen. And Moose, our enormous Mantle Great Dane, wearing the remains of a cat door around his neck with the expression of a man wrongfully accused in a village trial. My husband stared. Then he said, very quietly, “Why is the dog wearing the door?” I said, “Because your son tried to become a cat.” He said, “He’s not my son when he does carpentry.” Fair. I tried to approach Moose calmly. This was impossible because I was barefoot, the floor was wet, and every step made a sound like soup being slapped. I said, “Moose, sweetheart, come here.” He took one step toward me. The umbrella moved. He took this as betrayal. He jumped backward directly into the recycling bin. Empty cans scattered everywhere. One can rolled under the fridge. Another can hit the small dog’s chair. The small dog looked at it, then looked at me, like she was deciding whether to sue. The cat slipped fully inside through the broken opening, stepped over the wreckage, and walked straight to her food bowl. No fear. No concern. No loyalty. Just breakfast. I respect her priorities, but I do not admire them. Then the doorbell rang. Because humiliation has excellent timing. Everyone froze. Moose froze. The umbrella froze. My husband froze with the toothbrush still in his hand. The small dog took a deep breath and prepared to defend the property from what was probably a pensioner with a parcel. I whispered, “Nobody move.” The doorbell rang again. Moose decided that although he was currently dressed as failed home improvement, security was still his responsibility. He ran. I ran after him. My husband ran after me. The small dog launched herself from the chair like a furry grenade. The cat continued eating because the cat has never worked a day in her life. Moose reached the front door first. He stopped so suddenly that the umbrella swung around and tapped him on the backside. He yelped. Not from pain. From betrayal. I opened the door three inches. It was our neighbor. Of course it was. She was holding a package and wearing the cautious expression of a woman who has heard noises from our house and is now collecting evidence. She looked past me. Moose stood behind me wearing a broken smart cat flap and dragging an open umbrella through a trail of muddy water. A dryer sheet was somehow stuck to his tail. I do not know where it came from. At this point, objects were joining the storyline without permission. My neighbor looked at Moose. Moose looked at my neighbor. The cat-door app dinged again. “Unrecognized animal detected.” My neighbor said, “New collar?” I said, “Limited edition.” She handed me the package without asking further questions. That is why I like her. She knows when a household has crossed into private tragedy. I closed the door. Moose sat down. The umbrella slowly folded over beside him like it had also given up. The cat door frame was still around his neck. The app dinged again. “Would you like to add this pet?” I stared at my phone. Then I stared at Moose. He wagged his tail once and knocked my husband’s slipper into the water bowl. I selected “No.” Not because Moose is not a pet. Because Moose is a weather event. Eventually, we freed him. It took two adults, one screwdriver, three treats, a towel, and my husband saying, “Do not bite the hinge,” which is a sentence I did not expect marriage to include. When the frame finally came loose, Moose stepped out of it and immediately looked proud. Proud. Like he had conquered the tiny door. Like he had saved the cat. Like he had personally defended this family from smart technology, suspicious raccoons, and basic geometry. I sat on the kitchen floor in my wet pajama pants, surrounded by shoes, cans, muddy paw prints, umbrella spokes, and the broken remains of something that cost more than my first phone. Moose walked over. Very slowly. Very gently. He rested his giant black-and-white head on my shoulder. His jowls were damp. His ears were soft. His eyes were huge and worried. And just like that, my anger dissolved. Annoyingly. Immediately. Completely. Because this is the cruel trick of dogs. They will destroy your morning, your door, your flooring, your dignity, your budget, and possibly your relationship with the neighbor. Then they will look at you like you are the only person in the world who can fix what scared them. And suddenly you are kissing the forehead of a criminal. I whispered, “You are not a cat.” Moose sighed. A long, dramatic sigh. The sigh of a giant dog who had suffered deeply at the hands of a doorway. Then he leaned his full 165 pounds into me, heavy and warm and trusting, like the entire disaster had exhausted him spiritually. The cat stepped through the open hole in the back door, because the flap was no longer there to stop her. She looked at Moose. Moose looked at her. She walked past him and flicked her tail directly across his nose. He flinched. The hero was wounded. So yes. The smart cat flap is dead. The back door now has a ventilation feature. My phone still thinks Moose is a raccoon. And my husband has banned me from buying anything with the word “smart” in the description. But Moose is asleep now with one paw resting on the broken cat door frame, like a warrior guarding the enemy’s helmet. And I love him. I love him in the stupid, helpless, deeply inconvenient way you love a dog who turns one tiny household upgrade into a full-scale architectural emergency. He is enormous. He is dramatic. He is expensive in ways no accountant could predict. He is not allowed near the cat door ever again. But when he pressed his giant head into my chest and sighed like the world had personally wronged him, I forgave him instantly. Because apparently that is who I am now. A woman with no cat flap, no dry socks, and a suspicious raccoon sleeping in her kitchen. And honestly? I would still choose him every single time.

LOL for Today : Little Johnny raised his hand and said, "My parents told me a story about morals." The teacher replied, "Alright then, go ahead." Little Johnny said, "So there was a little bird flying south for the winter. It was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and shit right on top of him. As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow shit, he began to realize how warm he was. The shit was actually thawing him out and felt great. He laid there all warm and happy and then soon began to sing for joy. Just then a passing cat heard the bird singing and came over to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow shit and promptly dug him out and ate him alive." Stunned, the teacher asked, "Dear God, what was the moral of that story?" Little Johnny said, "Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy. Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend. And most importantly, when you’re in deep shit it’s best to keep your mouth shut."

We now have another RedNeck to piss & moan about....only this time he's from YOUR side of the pond....

The makeover of Miss America was completed today . At last I found a yellow tank , it's a Clarke tank from USA. Now she's all yellow, much better than boring grey

I had to take my cat Zippy to see the vet a week last Friday. He had a poorly eye, got a horn in it a year or so ago was treated but was never right. A couple of months ago it sudenly got bad weaping gunk all the time, i had to clean it 4 or 5 times a day. in the mornings it was stuck together and the poor little fella had to put up we me washing and pocking around with Q-tips to get his eye open..Never a spit or swipe. Vet said bring him in, so i did and left him till the phone call_______5pm, come and get him...Poor sod had his eye removed..Was not the thorn but a tooth that did it. Root had gone bad and when he had bitten on some thing hard it had pushed the tooth up and through the roof of his mouth and into his eye..Poor little fella... Anyway he is doing ok now thou my bank account is not

Just scraped in by the skin of my teeth ...

7:00 am ready to go

An hour walk in the morning, takes two hours because we’re stopping to sniff and pee everywhere Today is a national holiday on top of being a saturday, so the village is going into full stupidity mode with all the Lisboners arriving and foreign girls parading everywhere with coffee cups in hand. Me and Luke will shelter from that until tomorrow. I barely managed to keep my sanity with a brief stop by the market.

The new lithium battery will go in front of the ECU and the other electrical stuff can go either partly in front of the battery and /or under the ECU.

A nice pre action shot of the busa in staging lanes at the pod. Im hoping its oriented and composed better now @boboneleg

taken this weekend visiting a friend in the Algarve

When we finally made it back down to Hwy 204, we decided to head west towards the old Spout Springs ski area which gets up to 5100 ft. elevation....shame it hasn't been running for at least 5-6 yrs. as its only 30 miles from home. Definitely a bit more chilly at the higher elevations.... On the way back down, we seemed to have our timing dialed in as there was virtually no traffic....so I was able to keep a steady 55+mph pace for a good 6+ miles....coasting in neutral....gotta love a manual gearbox.

So a female employee got an expensive pen as a birthday gift from her boss. She sent him a 'Thank you note' by email: Boss’s wife read the email and filed for divorce. The email said: Your penis wonderful and I enjoyed using it last night. It has extra ordinary smooth flow and a firm stroke. I loved its perfect size and grip. Felt like I was in heaven when using it.Thanks a lot.! Moral: A "space" is an essential part of English grammar!

Just for you Busa ... https://www.facebook.com/reel/902932269230730

I like the idea of some mild cams but I have been offered some low mileage standard cams for free.

Well after a few weeks and several distractions, that I had to deal with, I got back up the shed to the Sprint today. I put it away in disgrace after having to cancel it's MoT as it blew a fork seal and cut out twice on the last run, only to restart once I switched the fuel tap to prime. Just to top it off I fitted a new rear brake switch that worked once only. Checked all the fuses and wiring so must have been the new switch I thought. I ordered a new fuel tap and two more brake switches, I already had fork seals and oil. Anyway out of sight and mind for a few weeks was enough for me to get over it, so went up the shed today to get on with it. I started it up and it fired right away which pleased me, battery was fine so no parasitic drain Checked the rear brake switch, the light worked perfectly so the fairies must have fixed that. I can't think why but it's fine now. I also switched the fuel tap to run and the bike died after a couple of minutes ticking over, switched to prime let the float bowls fill, started straight away, switched to reserve and it died after a few seconds so the fairies haven't fixed that. Hopefully got a clear day tomorrow to work on it and book the MoT for next week.

Trying to order a new pair of jets for my old C70z2 carb..the crap has set hard in them, not a chance nolonger available i am told. So i took a number 13 numbered drill to them..Clear now. we will wait to see how it runs

Got bored of waiting for Mandi to decide if it was going to rain or not,(and it didn't), so went and watched the touring cars. Ordered oil then realised I'd ordered the wrong type so ordered the right stuff, I can use the wrong in the dominator so no prob. A genuine chain set popped up on Ebay for £100 so that's on the way too.

Got that tree unloaded....headed to Kingsbury Ln. but not much in the way of wildflowery, probably due to the screwy weather we had last winter....they might still show in another month...we'll see. Everything was sooo Green from the recent rains.... I kept thinking how much fun this would have been on my old XT 550....

Right so got some time to play. Rear wheel moved forward to get the chain off the front sprocket, 30mm socket on the drill. No noises picked up using the screwdriver to ear method. Think this next pic gives a better clue to the prob. Glad I couldn't hear anything from the transmission as it would have been a right ball ache to sort. Rear sprocket not so bad but think another set is in order. I've been using a tin of muck off all weather chain lube, no probs with Mandis or the dominator but this is the second set on this done at 13000 miles.

You may notice some changes, the septic tank is now the dark side. If you have to post something that can’t go anywhere else then it can go there, over time we will probably grow the section. Things will get purged there on a regular basis, still no porn though, so if that’s your bag you can find more suitable places in the dark recesses of the internet. Also @boboneleg has been demoted due to being a lazy useless cunt, this was reported to us by none other than @boboneleg. Perhaps an early play for Twat of the Year but we will see. No plans right now for a replacement moderator, let’s see if we need one and if so I will appoint someone. If you have anything to say about any of this please send an email to; I’mafecklesstwatanddeservetobeignored@ifyouthinkthisisarealemailaddressyouareaknob.com Thanks for reading this, you can go back to looking at cats on YouTube now.

Free ones are faster!