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The world is fucked, everything is shit now, you’re right. That’s why I send you this picture from the Douro today.

I got enough monkeys in my circus already thanks

I own a motorcycle because of a personal life choice. One day when I am very old and when I can not ride anymore, it will be in my garage as a trophy of my memories. I have met people who taught me something and have the same spirit. I meet people now who get wisdom from me. I get wet, I get cold, And I have been hot, I was afraid, I fell, And I stood up, I even hurt myself, But also, I laughed out loud with the wind. I spoke a thousand times with myself and Still do. I sang and shouted with joy like a madman, And yes ... sometimes I cried. I have seen wonderful places because of motorcycles. I have taken bends that even my dad would be proud of; other times I took bends full of terror. I stopped many times to see a landscape. I spoke with perfect strangers. I go out with frustrations inside and return home with a feeling of absolute peace in my heart. I always think how dangerous it is, knowing that the meaning of courage is to advance even feeling fear. Every time I go up to my bike I think about how wonderful it is. I learned through gestures to communicate with other riders. I spend money that I do not have, I gave up many things, but it's all worth it... My bike is not a means of transportation but is a piece of iron with wheels that I am blessed with, it's part of who I am. I love my friends and the joy of great people & motorcycles!

You really are dumb as rocks.

A man who was driving a car with his wife was stopped by a police officer. The following exchange took place. The man says, "What's the problem, officer?" Officer: "You were going at least 75 in a 55 zone." Man: "No sir, I was going 65." Wife: "Oh, Harry. You were going 80." (The man gave his wife a dirty look.) Officer: "I'm also going to give you a ticket for your broken taillight. " Man: "Broken taillight? I didn't know about a broken taillight!" Wife: "Oh Harry, you've known about that taillight for weeks." (The man gave his wife another dirty look.) Officer: "I'm also going to give you a citation for not wearing your seat belt." Man: "Oh, I just took it off when you were walking up to the car." Wife: "Oh Harry, you never wear your seat belt." The man turned to his wife and yelled, "SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" The officer turned to the woman and asked, "Ma'am, does your husband talk to you this way all the time?" The wife said, "No, only when he's drunk!"

Nipped out to do the rabbit meds run and the boy came with us. Only been riding since Thursdays CBT so was keeping a close eye on him. we all like a nice bin shot.

Stupidity is sometimes fun to watch, but I think a warning might be in order just out of being nice to each other. Safety wise, I would think twice about posting a single picture online containing your name, full address, vin number, phone number, etc, @Marcel. I cropped the picture to protect you from yourself

Hey wank panzer owner...this indian probably seen more off road than your GS...

A Jewish daughter says to her mother.. ..... "I'm divorcing Nathan." All he wants is sex, sex and more sex. My vagina is now the size of a 50-cent piece when it used to be the size of a 5 cent piece." Her mother says ..... "You're married to a multi-millionaire businessman, You live in an 8 bedroom mansion You drive a $250,000 Ferrari, You get $2,000 a week allowance, You take 6 vacations a year and You want to throw all that away... Over 45 cents..?"

To @boboneleg and @MooN, the gimp and the cunt, twins separated at birth.

You better disregard the baiting, and in case of Marcel you’re debating MAGA. Better break out the sticks and stones, if you’re expecting him to understand you.

Seems like yesterday, the memory has never faded on this one, @zzzak and his buddies will be in meltdown today, if he is still alive.

A young man with his pants hanging half off his ass, two gold front teeth & a half inch thick gold chain around his neck, walked into the local welfare office to pick up his cheque He marched up to the counter and said, "Hi. You know, I just HATE drawing welfare. I'd really rather have a job, I don't like taking advantage of the System, getting something for nothing." The social worker behind the counter said "Your timing is excellent. We just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a chauffeur and bodyguard for his beautiful daughter. You'll have to drive around in his 2018 Mercedes-Benz CL & he will supply all of your clothes." "Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You'll also be expected to escort the daughter on her overseas holiday trips. This is rather awkward but you will also have to satisfy her sexual urges as the daughter is in her 20's and has a strong sex drive. The guy, wide-eyed, said,"You're bullshittin' me???" The social worker said, "Yeah, well . . . you started it.

Spent the morning sorting Shadows bike. New JT chain and sprockets and front brake pads. Took longer cleaning everything than actually fitting the parts. Her response was thanks Dad can you lend me £120 to fix my phone. It never ends . Also noticed she has hit 18,000 miles in 2 years. She is talking about taking her A2 in November but we shall see.

He was very fast. We deleted the video not embarrass you.

That’s how trade tariff wars work, it’s bullshit to people who want to buy something. But on the other hand, Marcel’s bike is going to gain value. The KTM because it’s a classic, not the other one with the cracked castings.

Here you go @Saul, it’s not to late to adopt!

Jane always had a certain attraction to Tarzan. So during her questions about his life, she asked him how he had sex. “Tarzan not know what is sex” he replied. Jane then explained to him what sex was. Tarzan said ….“Tarzan use knot hole in trunk of tree.” Stunned by his response, Jane said: “Tarzan you have it all wrong, you don’t shag a tree to get yourself off. Tell you what, I will show you how to do it properly.” She took off her clothing and laid down on the ground. “Here” she said, pointing to her privates,“you must put it in here.” Tarzan removed his loin cloth, showing Jane his considerable manhood, stepped closer to her and kicked her as hard as he could in the crotch. Jane rolled around in agony for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually she managed to grasp for air and screamed: “What the bloody hell did you do that for? “Check for squirrel.” he responds

Look at her, hasn’t been started or moved in weeks but ready to go on friday! It’ll be a full day of small roads on a heat wave, to have dinner by the border before going to Bilbao.

I tell you what, buying a fucking coffee has become unnecessarily complicated. There was a time when you walked into a café and asked for a coffee. That was it. "Coffee please." Somebody put coffee in a cup, you gave them some money, and everybody got on with their fucking day. Not anymore. Now you walk into somewhere like Costa and ordering a coffee feels like you're filling out a mortgage application. "What would you like?" Coffee. "Americano, latte, cappuccino, flat white, cortado, mocha, macchiato, espresso, double espresso, iced latte, iced Americano, frappe?" Fucking hell. I don't know. The brown one that wakes me up. Then comes the size. Small, medium, large, regular, tall, grande, massive, fucking oil drum. I'll have a large. Excellent. Surely we're finished. Oh no. "What milk would you like?" Milk. "Whole, semi skimmed, skimmed, oat, almond, coconut, soya?" Cow. Just whatever normally comes out of a fucking cow. Then they start offering you syrups. Vanilla, caramel, hazelnut, salted caramel, gingerbread, cinnamon, chocolate, white chocolate, pumpkin spice, sugar free vanilla, sugar free caramel. No. I wanted a coffee. I didn't come in to design a fucking Yankee Candle. But we're still nowhere near finished. Would I like an extra shot? Decaf? Half caf? An extra hot one? Skinny? Whipped cream? Cold foam? Chocolate sprinkles? Cinnamon dust? Caramel drizzle? Chocolate drizzle? Ice? Crushed ice? Less ice? More ice? At this point I'm expecting them to ask whether I'd like fucking underfloor heating installed. And there's always somebody in front of you who knows this system intimately. "Can I have a large iced skinny oat milk caramel latte, half sweet, extra hot, two pumps of vanilla, one pump of hazelnut, no foam, extra shot, light ice, whipped cream, caramel drizzle?" Fucking hell, Barbara. You're not ordering a drink. You're giving the launch sequence for a fucking nuclear submarine. Meanwhile I'm standing behind her thinking, "Coffee. Milk. Two sugars. Please let me go home." Then comes the price. "That'll be five pounds eighty please." FIVE POUNDS EIGHTY? For a fucking coffee? For that money I want to keep the mug. In fact, I want shares in the fucking building. And because you've already stood there answering twenty seven questions about milk and syrup, you just tap your card like you've developed Stockholm syndrome. Then they finally hand it over. And I've ordered the biggest fucking size they've got because, naturally, I'm thinking bigger cup means more coffee. Silly me. The cup's the size of a fucking paint tin, but about fourteen percent of it appears to be coffee. The rest is milk, foam, whipped cream, syrup, ice, chocolate dust, caramel drizzle and whatever other fucking building materials they've used to construct it. You've basically ordered a coffee and they've built a fucking extension on top of it. If you've gone for one of the cold ones it's even worse. You pick up this enormous plastic cup thinking you've got enough caffeine to see you through until Thursday, then realise three quarters of the bastard is ice. Six quid for twelve ice cubes, a splash of milk and a frightened little espresso hiding at the bottom. Take the ice out and your "large" coffee would fit in a fucking egg cup. And then there's the whipped cream. Fucking mountains of it. You've got to eat your way through half of the Alps before you even reach the beverage you actually ordered. By the time you finally locate the coffee, you've consumed eight hundred calories and you've got cream on your nose. At that point it's not a drink anymore. It's a fucking dessert with a caffeine problem. And somehow we've all just accepted this. We've gone from putting the kettle on and spooning Nescafé into a mug to standing in a queue while somebody called Tyler asks what fucking personality we'd like our milk to have. I don't need my coffee to be an experience. I don't need it handcrafted. I don't need it drizzled. I don't need it dusted. I don't need it topped with something that looks like insulation foam. I just want it hot, strong and capable of making me slightly less likely to tell everyone to fuck off before nine o'clock in the morning. It's coffee. Put it in a cup. Give it to me. And stop making me take a fucking GCSE before I'm allowed to drink it.

My bike’s suspension needed nothing at 60,000km. I chose to buy new shocks, everything is still going strong now at over 150000 including Saharan sand trails, Moroccan Atlas rocky trails, and Portuguese offroad, almost half with a passenger for 150000, you ride down the motorway to park 40 km away from facing any females in a rally in the US on your dresser for 60000 and need a rebuild? I’d rather have a Harley or a Goldwing, but any GS would do better anyway!

Good weather to be out

I’ll pick one of these Lundy Skip Doctors Dartmoor

If there is one thing that pisses me off it's going to undo a screw/nut/bolt and finding the thing has rusted to the point you have to get the angle grinder out. The reflector on the number plate on my Indian is held on with a mild steel nyloc, which, as it gets all the shit the rear wheel flings up, is completely rusty ... on a 4 year old bike. The extra cost for a stainless M5 nyloc has got to be like 2 cents so why the fuck not use one. Checked it over and there are various other bits where the same applies so ive just ordered £30 of A2/A4 replacements ... My old Yamaha MT07 had a mild steel swing arm, with a crappy thin coat of paint on it which got shot blasted by all the crap kicked up off the rear wheel and went rusty. It was still in warranty when I noticed it so I had it replaced. When I asked if they were going to replace it with something better the answer was no, just the same crap. When the replacement came in to the dealer I arranged to pick it up and take it off to get powder coated. Took it back in to them and they then fitted it. Why is everything so shit ... rant over, as you were...

Oh my lord...never again...my buddy john call this morning asking if I wanted to go along on ride with a logging truck...6 hrs for one run..never again...lol. My bones are still rattling...it's has worse jas riding a Harley in a pot hole ridden dirt road for 200 km..

@boboneleg's favourite tipple.

They don’t, except if you go luxury really. I don’t care, though, and 28 hours sounds like hell sitting on a chair. The cabins are spacious if you only use one bed, I had a lovely trip coming here. Way better than the one me and Sofia had going from Santander to Plymouth. Also, get one with a window, made it really enjoyable! Big difference, between using the trip to come out of the boat fresh and rested compared to broken.

My last night in Cork tonight, but this is definitely my vibe! Tomorrow will be leaving my friends here to sleep near Rosslare, and the following morning hopping on the ferry to Spain. The plan now is to barely put a foot down in Spain and head straight to Portugal for dinner with @Sofia

Rode down to Lanner this morning with my mate Steve who obviously has money burning a hole in his pocket. He only bought his CBF about three weeks ago, last Friday he impulse bought a Guzzi V85 TT. Very nice it is to. Done 9,000 miles. Some nice bikes out the back. Also loads of nice stuff in the show room. Pricing wasn’t bad either. Especially liked this new all black Z900RS. Home made drain cover made me smile. On the way home popped into Dameralls for a cup of tea as we were riding past. Did about 90 miles bimbling about. Not a bad way to spend a Tuesday

Too late Buck beat ya to it years ago

Not much at the quiet auto jumble this morn. Maybe one for Scott.

Fuck sake Marcel, get a grip. Pretty sure many of us enjoyed the Sturgis thread, I did.

Just fitted a starter for a mate on his 2006 Kangoo. There's a reason I hate French cars and this bum hole has added to that hate.

Didn’t expect that ! Thanks all, I’ll have to work on my acceptance speech

Congratulations @Nute