Lucky Number
25 June 2007
When I bought my car I enquired about the possibility of adding a personalised plate, specifically GL05 OPR.
GL05 - for Gloucester
OPR - for QPR
Simple.
I enquired at the DVLA and was told it had already been allocated. After a couple of attempts to find out where it had gone I received an email from a Company telling me that they’d located it and politely asking if I’d like to pay them to offer a nominal amount for it to the current owners. Thinking that the owner of the plate would probably want a packet for it as he’d realise it was a desired product I declined and forgot about it.
I hadn’t told a soul about the this enquiry so it came as a complete shock to me when this evening I received a text message from Chip (once famous for writing ‘Chip on His Shoulder’, now famous for suggesting 70% of subject matter at The Comedy Store and subsequently throwing up in the Bogs on his 40th). The Message contents contained the following picture…
The vehicle’s passengers were ‘two 70 year old looking blokes’ and it was being driven clockwise on the M25 and bore the number plate in question. As fate has thrown its’ hat into the ring in this instance I might reverse my decision and see how much the old dodders want for it.
Watch this space….
…Patiently!
Big Wheel
24 June 2007
The Big Wheel keep on Turning,
On a Simple Line Day By Day.
the Earth Spins on its Axis
One Man Struggle while another Relaxes - Hymn Of The Big Wheel, Massive Attack, 1991
You know you’re gonna have a bad ride when a combination of spit and snot is hanging from your mouth and nose and your handlebars are bearing the brunt of it. Attempting Nuthill for the first time in months was proving to be an obstacle of Krypton Factor Assault Course proportions and my legs and body along with my 17 year old Mountain Bike was crumbling under the incline.
Yeterday I’d decided that it was time to start cycling again. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that my knees just can’t cope with the constant and repetetive impact of road running and as I’ve got a relatively decent road bike and a mountain bike sat in the garage gathering dust I decided to see if the smoother rotation of spinning pedals would be gentler on my joints.
So, Saturday saw me dusting off my old Scott Tampico. 17 years old and never seen a service in it’s life. I looked at the dust ridden machine and took pity on it and began stripping it down, cleaning the parts and generally giving it a good going over. First I treated the frame to a Snow Foam wash with my Karcher Jet Wash to get rid of the old oil, cobwebs and leaves that had accumulated over the years and then I rinsed and chamoised it off and replaced all the moving parts that had been soaking in a mixture of Autoglym and Poorboys Cleaner. Once the bike was gleaming and looking as good as new I doused it in the cyclists choice of deodorant as well as lubricant - WD40.
To get back into the swing of things (as previously mentioned) I decided on the relatively gentle incline of Nuthill. Two or three miles from my place it’s a steady 1.5 mile hill that climbs out of Upton St. Leonards towards Cranham…
Yesterday I removed the Cateye Cordless Computer that had never worked since I fitted it so was unable to get a decent reading of distance and time taken. I’m too lazy to swap the computer on my road bike over so I’ve purchased a new Cateye Enduro 8 for 17 quid from Tredz
After the summit of Nuthill I stopped and took a quick photo, the ’shrine’ in memory of a cyclist who’d been fatally injured at the junction onto the Painswick Road a painful reminder to be extra vigilant at this Junction.
I then carried on up the Painswick Road climbing steadily towards Prinknash Abbey where an uninterrupted view was evident across Gloucester to May Hill, The Black Mountains and The Malverns.
I carried on the road to Painswick and turned off to the most daunting incline (and decline) that over the years I’ve ever ridden up or down, Portway…
As I sped down Portway it then occurred to me that the road was greasy and wet with leaves, car oil and rain, my brakes were about as useful as clingfilm and I’d only put the bike together yesterday without properly test riding it - at the bottom of Portway I took stock of myself and realised that if I clenched my body anymore my arse would eat my lycra shorts and eventually I’d turn inside out.
Unfortunately after my ride today it would appear that the 17 year old accumulation of mud, leaves, twigs, cow crap and other assorted debris was holding the bike together and despite my initial assumption, the creaks and groans that were evident during my ride were coming from the bike as opposed to me for a change. It looks like a new mountain bike will be the order of the day but after a quick look on the net for sub 400 quid machines I’m flummoxed - there’s just too much choice and my initial insistence to stick with Scott (after their last machine performed and lasted so well) might be a stumbling block as even their budget machines are pricey.
Come on Dolly do your Dealing
17 June 2007
A news story Exclusive from this site as www.steveqpr.co.uk reveals that The Gloucester Poker All Star Tours’ pending event in Abbeymead will play host to topless dealers for the first time in its’ colourful History.
Speaking to Mr. I. Bees the calendar organiser and host for this leg of the tour he revealed that he had initially taken part in long and fruitless negotiations with Spearmint Rhino for them to provide Professionals up to the job however their dealers had ultimately declined his offer of ‘two quid an hour and a Matson Rugby Club Meat Packet’.
Speaking on behalf of the Spearmint Rhino Shufflers (An organisation that this website has been requested to point out is not affiliated to the same named over 40’s lapdance addicts group) Archie Poleslider stated that the offer was ‘derisory for what my girls would have to put up with during the course of an evening’.
Unpeturbed by this slight set back Mr. Bees streamlined his search to encapsulate local Abbeymead Girls living within a 200 yard radius of the events Headquarters (‘to avoid paying them sodding travel expenses’ Mr Bees was later heard to comment). After interviewing his next door neighbour and declining her application on the basis that she ‘knew more swear words than Poker Tour rookie Darryl ‘All Night’ Long’ his eye was caught by a local press story in the Gloucestershire Citizen heralding Wendy ‘Furious’ Foster as the first person to qualify from Gloucester College of Arts and Technology as a Topless Shuffler. Unfortunately her chosen game was Snap however after attending a 30 second presentation by Mr. Bees entitled ‘Things I know about Poker’ she is now well versed in the finer arts of the three ‘ings’ - Raise, Stick and Bluff.
Ms. Foster Promotes Her New Employers Gentlemans Evening
The news of a female being allowed access into the inner sanctum of the Gloucester Poker All Star Tour has prompted varied reaction from its’ members. Poker Tour veteran and Professional Moaner Kev ‘Klux Klan’ Clune was said to be highly disappointed that the Poker Tour was to play host to a ‘bird’ for the first time in its’ History stating that the events major draw for him was the opportunity to spend time away from his wife whom (after he was told that he was speaking to a reporter from this site) he ‘loves dearly’ and ‘would do his best to be home (with) before lights out’ on the night of the event.
Two time Tour Winner Al ‘Chase the Ace’ Smith paid Mr. Bees credit saying that the tour needed more of his visionary thinking and that he was looking forward to Mr. Bees providing proper English grub at the event as opposed to that ‘Foreign volovon and mini samosa shite’ and also to Ms. Foster getting her Big Blinds out.
The Event takes place on the 30th June at the Abbeydale Indoor Arena - Tickets available via Ticket Master.
Race Row
08 June 2007
Unfortunately what the title of this entry alludes to isn’t the sort that can be solved by a photo finish.
An early contender for the www.steveqpr.co.uk Person of the Year Award. Well, at least until the below pictured lady can fit the 9 ball in her gob…
R. Chapman esq prepares to shake hands with the entire Essex squad
Real Wembley
04 June 2007
After two visits in six days to watch football at the new Wembley Stadium you’d think I might have something to say about the venue - Unfortunately a bit like this diary I’ve got nothing interesting to say whatsoever and am still perplexed about my feelings of apathy towards the place.
Why am I not overawed by the sheer size of the Stadium, its’ capacity, legroom, facilities and squeeky cleanliness?
I’m struggling to find an answer - all of the aforementioned traits are true of the new Stadium but there’s something missing. The word I keep returning to is ‘clinical’ the escalators gliding up the side of the stadium, the polished alluminium and glass enveloping the walls and the bright lights and shiny colours of the inner sanctum serve up an experience that is alien to me in footballing terms and I don’t think I like it.
Brought up on the ol’ dirty Wembley, where your knees were up by your ears, your view of the pitch was interrupted by the 4 foot midget sat in front of you, the combination of crap football and plastic seating sent the spectator and his or her arse to sleep after 20 minutes and you had to take a mortgage out to buy a coke and a burger (the latter is still the case apparantly!) there was something magical about the place - similar to the living room chair that’s moulded to your shape and is sooooo comfortable that you just refuse to let it go the Old Wembley bore the fruits of history, homeliness and familiarity way to well to just be considered a brick building where some football matches used to be held.
The Twin Towers, The White Horse, Puskas and the Mighty Magyars, Matthews, ‘66, Moore, ‘96, Gascoigne, the old boy in the Unon Jack outfit, National Anthems without a warbling tosspot goading you into singing along - It’ll take years for the New Building to share similar with its’ audience.
The Builders came and knocked down the antiquated walls, the lorrys arrived and not only took away the rubble ‘n concrete but a myriad of memories that can’t be replaced.