yen_powell

Can't see the tow bar, is it on the other side?

I did once get stopped because the police thought I was one. I was sent to Exeter with my portable spectroscope to do some work at a foundry. I went on the A303, not realising that the crusties were all heading to Stonehenge for the summer solstice and the old bill were going to prevent it at all costs, you may remember the violence and window smashing of the vans. So guess which scruff in holey jeans and a leather jacket got pulled over on his bike, searched, then asked to explain what was this peculiar looking thing in the wooden box strapped to the back seat?

Yeah, it was a crystal clear pool of loveliness before

My dad said that Changi Prison had a wall with a bloodstain that kept reappearing every time it was washed off or painted over, said to be from when it was a POW/internment camp run by the Japanese during WW2

This is my Dad with one of his police dogs, a picture that I found when clearing my Mum's house out after she passed away. This is before I was born, with the jungly looking plants the other side of the wire I assume it was taken in either Singapore (Changi airfield or prison) or Ceylon (Sri Lanka now)

My dad had a few dogs when he was in the RAF Police, I only remember Bruce, a large German Shepherd, who was around when I was little and lived with us in married quarters. He died when I was 6, suspected poisoning my parents believed. My dad told me that all of his dogs had a favourite place to grab a human when he and his colleagues had to take turns wearing the padded suit for training. Bruce apparently like to grab a large chunk of back side and hang on for dear life. He went on to tell me about the time he lost sight of Bruce and his intended victim during a tracking exercise and by the time he caught up again he saw his colleague hanging by his arms from the branch of a tree with Bruce hanging on to his arse, both swinging together like a big hairy pendulum.

Surely that's what Viagra is for, to keep pensioners' slippers dry.

I can only think you have not been paying attention, you need to up your game.

I likes this.

In Spain (or Portugal..... we were lost) I saw a robot man at roadworks waving a flag as a warning. He looked slightly more intelligent than some of the blokes I have had doing traffic management for me in the past.

Oooh, I'm stealing that!

I've only had a catheter once and I was knocked out when it went in. But I will never forget its removal. The infamous nursing quote of, 'I'm going to count to three'. Then they bloody do it on number two. It was about 5 minutes before my back was relaxed enough to let me put my bum back onto the mattress.

My knob was tiny and cowering in fear. Something funny I have just remembered. The surgeon squirted gel anaesthetic down the old pipe first. Then whilst he is waiting for the nurses to hand him the instrument of torture he turns to me and casually says, "Don't panic, I'm just squeezing your penis to stop the gel coming back out whilst we wait for it to work." He had to tell me because I had made it quite clear I wasn't going to watch him or his little tv. What a funny job to have eh. Then he said, my CT scan showed my kidneys were now clear of stone fragments although he saw a few small sharp bits wedged between the stent and the uretha. " You might feel them as we pull the stent out!"

It's finally out and I hardly cried like a girl at all. Sorry about the blurry photo, my hands are still shaking. First wee when I got in a little while ago made me jump, that should ease a bit. I was busting for it, rode like a loon to get home so I could do a sitty down wee.

I think I might have put this bloke up on the politically incorrect thread, so first of all his character, then his charity boxing match (from a wheelchair).

I had a mate who used to say if he had to get rid of a body he would wait till the council dug a grave for a funeral next day then bury the body in it at night and tamp down the earth at the bottom. Then next day a nice coffin would be lowered on top of it at the funeral proper and hide his body for him. You'd need a ladder, some rope, a shovel, a head torch and a flask so you could have a little cup of tea half way through.

Don't panic, you can't get it on your bike via an internet photograph.

I thought all Capris had rear end damage because they always spin round and go arse first when it goes tits up.

I've got a horrible feeling I'm the only sicko to have noticed it.

A few years ago I had to go and look at something in a road called St Leonard's Road. It's a road I always confuse with St Leonard's Street which is not far away, but separated physically by the building of the Blackwall Tunnel Approach in the 1960s. As I was riding along it I went past a statue that made me hit my brakes and spin round and take another gander. The artist who created it clearly didn't think it through. It's innocent looking from all other angles.

It is indeed rhyming slang, Bread and Honey- Money.

This is not me, but it is pretty much my journey to work (pre covid) at least once a week and the main reason I ride a bike to work if at all possible. Having said pre-covid, I did go through a 5 mile queue last week, traffic nearly back to normal and I had to go in at normal commuting hour to meet some white liners. Reason for a 10 mile queue (or longer) on my motorway part of the trip is usually:- Someone driving like a prat coming a cropper and crashing, a loose horse or cow running about on a motorway, or an HGV tipping over at it makes the turn north from the M25 onto the M11. The last thing happens so often I can't believe they don't reprofile the cross fall.