The best way to start the day - yet another complete BLANK from the True Blue silly arse of the Tory ex-Mayor.
She enjoys it really. It gives her something to do ahead of an afternoon of sucking on raw lemons.
And so four days away from the pool and it was time to put the lengths in once again.
It was all going swimmingly well until the appearance of the Incredible Kicking Man. His breast stroke style has alem leg reach that makes you wince. The Incredible Kicking Man can’t even contain his stroke within a single lane.
I got off lightly this time with just a few minor mishaps to my ribs.
The changing room soundtrack confusion continued. Sky News was reporting on developments in Iraq, the gym PA was pumping out Snap and The Power, plus the boxercise [URGH] babes were giving it some serious WOHS! from the room next door.
The lovely lido at 7am this most certainly wasn’t.
Mid-morning and I had to go and see a man about a pair of jeans. He happened to be over in Walton, and so I took the opportunity for a roll out there and back.
I was riding in yellow looking every bit the part after three days of pedaling on Le Tour de Norfolk.
The gravel around these Badlands appears to have bedded down quite well. The hellish Great Bentley run towards Thorpe is now a smooth passage. I actually ran out of gears on the ride in.
And so Walton bound, and did I tell you the one about the man who cycled all the way to the seaside just to buy a pair of jeans?
The punch line ends with him being asked:
"Are you a jazz dancer?"
The answer is NO, btw.
But yep, I am now the proud / poncey owner of a pair of 50’s thick denim PROPER jeans. I went for the boots and braces look - buttons along the waist to strap me up from the shoulders.
The kids back at school will rejoice in taking the piss.
Dexy’s and then Culture and Two Sevens Clash was the soundtrack for the afternoon shifts. A culture clash, if you will.
But it all worked.
Gotta play at least one roots tune each day to keep you SMILING.
Which then led to booze, and then drunken gardening.