With due apologies to those who normal read my more highbrow, intellectual humour, I'm afraid this post does deal with some toiletry issues. If easily offended by words like shit, please don't read on.
We all know that the only real way to lose weight is to eat less and exercise more, right?
Well, I ate just one Salmonella infected egg, and in just 3 days I've lost 6Ilbs on the Shitfast plan. Eating less - well nothing actually over the last three days, and running to the toilet up to eight or nine times a day really tone sup those leg muscles, plus the abdominal cramps tighten up those tummy muscles a treat. Particularly when you're barfing as well.
This all started just after I'd finished mowing the lawn on Monday -see my previous posts, with a mild stomach ache. I had bacon and egg for brunch, and can only put it down to the eggs. A rapid deterioration saw the highlight of that evening with me in a virtual compression chamber. No kidding that's what it felt like. If you've never had the experience of a nosebleed, headache, shitting and vomiting simultaneously then you won't know what I mean. My eyes were streaming, and I swear earwax was being forced from my ears. Every available body orifice was trying to evict this evil bacteria from my system. The pressures involved must be enormous. The stench certainly was. Sweating and gasping for air - any air would have been good even the fetid stench of my own rotting interior, the only though going through my mind was "Please God don't let me die like this - vapourise me completely, just don't leave a mess to clear up."
Anyhow the bacteria still survives inside me, although the trips to the bathroom are now less frequent and dramatic, because there's nothing left inside to give. Full recovery will take about a week, even with DANONE on my side. If I can face eating anything.
But on a positive note I am under 15 stone for the first time in about 5 years, almost at the bottom end of overweight (yeah right) and a long long way from obese - I could put on another 25 LBS.
Who decides what is overweight on this BMI index thing anyway? At 6 feet 2 I don't realy think that at much under 15 stone I'd look right. I'd get mistaken for a javelin. And buying clothes would eb impossible - clothes manufacturers assume that big people are big in every direction. Try buying a 34 inch leg at under a 34 inch waist for example.
So, just as soon as my fragile constitution will allow it, I'm off for a good old steak dinner. - but right now I'm off back tot eh toilet.
Thursday, 27 May 2010
Monday, 24 May 2010
Petrol rebate.
On the subject of mowing the lawn, it occurs to me that over the last twelve years in residence at my humble abode I have bought perhaps 15 litres of petrol each year for my mower. Bought at the pumps, this is taxed at Road Fuel duty rate. A quick web search suggests that fuel duty was 56.19 pence per litre when petrol was 105.64 pence per litre., so it will higher now, but that#s a reasonable ball park figure to play with.
So at 15 litres x 12 years x 56.19 pence per litre, I reckon the Governent have unlawfully taxed me to the tune of approximately £101.14 pence. How much are you owed?
I may just write to my MP and see what his take is on this subjec, and requesting my money back, with interest.
So at 15 litres x 12 years x 56.19 pence per litre, I reckon the Governent have unlawfully taxed me to the tune of approximately £101.14 pence. How much are you owed?
I may just write to my MP and see what his take is on this subjec, and requesting my money back, with interest.
Cutting the Grass, GM Foods, Scotish Students and inventors
Four subjects you may think don't have a lot in common. Allow me to explain.
It is that time of year when every time I have a day off I have to cut the lawn. I have many inventive excuses for not doing so, but eventually I have to give in our Pygmy tribes start to establish themselves. It was whilst mowing that not unconsiderable expanse of grass this afternoon that my mind began to wander. I shouldn't have let it go, it's too weak to be out on it's own, but there you go.
It seems to me that in these days of modern science we should be able to develop grass which doesn't need cutting. I mean there is that old joke about the Scotsman who watered his lawn with Whisky so it came up ha;f cut. But is the idea so far from reality? I wouldn't want to waste good Whisky of course, but it seems to me that if we can grow dwarf conifers then surely we can fiddle with the DNA of grass to make it grow to the optimum height and then stop? I don;t object to having to mow the grass say once a year as a sort of ritual to welcome in the spring. But that should be it. I want to enjoy my garden, not work in it all day every time I have a day off.
Then the idea occurred to me. The Scottish should have the funding to find an answer. Why the Scots? Well, I don;t want to offend them, I think they are a wonderful nation with lots going for them - they invented Whiskey, Television, Trains, Telephones, bridges ...... the list goes on and on. Whilst we English invent things which on the face of it have great technological advances like Jet engines and the Hovercraft only for them to be ought evolve by turbo skipping saucer planes and a hole in the ground (otherwise known as the Channel Tunnel - which is Half French for Gods sake)
But if we accept that our students are our future engineers inventors and thinkers, then we have to look to Scotland and their people/ Scotland, the region around Glasgow in particular is famed for it's low class attendances, high rate of alcoholism and unhealthy eating habits. If the students in my town are anything to go by, this is what defines a student - failing to turn up for lectures, eating junk food and falling over drunk in the middle of the road. With a traffic cone on their heads. Quite obviously a University education is not needed, simple a pack of Tenants Extra, a Kebab and an empty room other than a classroom. Possibly a pencil or two.
And better still, being Glaswegians, they will evolve a grass which is not dissimilar to themselves, tough, hardy and ideally aggressive. Yes I want GM grass which will give daisies a knuckle sandwich and headbutt dandelions. Then and only then will I get the lawn I deserve, instead of the ragged patch filled with weeds, which always looks unkempt and which my neighbours put to shame with their perfectly manicured striped 1/4 acre of perfection.
It is that time of year when every time I have a day off I have to cut the lawn. I have many inventive excuses for not doing so, but eventually I have to give in our Pygmy tribes start to establish themselves. It was whilst mowing that not unconsiderable expanse of grass this afternoon that my mind began to wander. I shouldn't have let it go, it's too weak to be out on it's own, but there you go.
It seems to me that in these days of modern science we should be able to develop grass which doesn't need cutting. I mean there is that old joke about the Scotsman who watered his lawn with Whisky so it came up ha;f cut. But is the idea so far from reality? I wouldn't want to waste good Whisky of course, but it seems to me that if we can grow dwarf conifers then surely we can fiddle with the DNA of grass to make it grow to the optimum height and then stop? I don;t object to having to mow the grass say once a year as a sort of ritual to welcome in the spring. But that should be it. I want to enjoy my garden, not work in it all day every time I have a day off.
Then the idea occurred to me. The Scottish should have the funding to find an answer. Why the Scots? Well, I don;t want to offend them, I think they are a wonderful nation with lots going for them - they invented Whiskey, Television, Trains, Telephones, bridges ...... the list goes on and on. Whilst we English invent things which on the face of it have great technological advances like Jet engines and the Hovercraft only for them to be ought evolve by turbo skipping saucer planes and a hole in the ground (otherwise known as the Channel Tunnel - which is Half French for Gods sake)
But if we accept that our students are our future engineers inventors and thinkers, then we have to look to Scotland and their people/ Scotland, the region around Glasgow in particular is famed for it's low class attendances, high rate of alcoholism and unhealthy eating habits. If the students in my town are anything to go by, this is what defines a student - failing to turn up for lectures, eating junk food and falling over drunk in the middle of the road. With a traffic cone on their heads. Quite obviously a University education is not needed, simple a pack of Tenants Extra, a Kebab and an empty room other than a classroom. Possibly a pencil or two.
And better still, being Glaswegians, they will evolve a grass which is not dissimilar to themselves, tough, hardy and ideally aggressive. Yes I want GM grass which will give daisies a knuckle sandwich and headbutt dandelions. Then and only then will I get the lawn I deserve, instead of the ragged patch filled with weeds, which always looks unkempt and which my neighbours put to shame with their perfectly manicured striped 1/4 acre of perfection.
Friday, 7 May 2010
Election Result
The British public has spoken - but we're not quite sure what they had to say.
As I have said before, I don;t profess to understand politics, - Jeremey Clarkson was my choice, but he wasn;t even on the ballot paper.
The result of the voting is that the Torys pulled in 306 seats, Labour 258 and the Liberals 57. Oh and a Green person got one too. To any sensible person, regardless of their politicl views, this should mean the Torys have won. But apparently not. Because more people voted against them than for them, this means they lose. How does that work? As I understand it 65% of the electorate turned out to vote. Meaning 35% didn't. So in actually fact the proportional representation system ought to mena that as the overall majority of people did not vote for an elected representative in parliament, then we shouldn't have one at all. The Prime Minister should be a silouette, like when you don;t upload your photo to Facebook. He should just be an icon. An image that does nothing and says nothing. He should in fact be the Stig. Sorry Jeremey, you've been upstaged by your own creation.
Apparently some people are upset as they couldn't get to vote because of the current voting system. 15 hours wasn't long enough to get 65% of the public through the polling stations. Thsi is because of the muppets employed to run the polling booths. Our local village hall was used for ours, and equipped with four booths. I don;t know why it had four, because we had two staff workign as a team to issue the ballot papers. It goes somethign like this. You hand your card to muppet number one, who then asks for your voters number. I am not a number, I am a free man! I don't know my number it is written on the card I have just handed to first muppet. First muppet then tells me my name. I agree with her. I know my name. It to is written on the card I have just handed her, hence she now knows my name too. Actually, as she works for the rest of the year in the local library she already knew my name anyway. She then reads my number to muppet number 2 who checks my number and writes it down, while muppet number 1 crosses my name out on the electoral roll list. She takes quite some time to find me, despite me living in a village with only two dozen streets. She then hands me my card back and a ballot paper is pushed at me by muppet number two. My wife, attempting to speed along the process gives them her number before handing over her card. This confuses them, and they have to ask her for it again, then tell her her name and repeat the performance again. My wifes number is one digit higher than mine, her address is the same, and her surname is also mine, yet for some strange reason the muppet has to go to the start of the electoral register and go through page by page agin until she findas her name and crosses her out. Amazingly she lives at the same address as me and is directly under my name.
No wonder the process takes so damned long. I wonder why they gave us four booths, when the process only allows one person through at a time. I can only suggest that some people arrive at the polling station determined to vote, but still undecided as to who to vote for. Either that or they are so thick they need time to find their candidates name on the list. We hada choice of about 8 I think, and all but one had a symbol next to them depicting the party they represented - so that people who couldn't read the name could recognise the picture. Only the independant candidate didn't have any emblem, probably because he couldn;t think of one on hsi own. Or maybe it was a ploy to capture more votes from the stupid.
At least we do know why 35% of the electorate failed to vote. It was nothing to do with tactical voting, inabilty to get into the polling booths (despite the best efforts of the muppets) or apathy. No, it was because they were too embarrssed to let anyone know that in broken Britain, educatiobnal standards are so bad they can't even spell X.
News that a Japanese Viagra Factory went into production overdrive at the news that Britain was having a General Election are grossly exagerrated.
As I have said before, I don;t profess to understand politics, - Jeremey Clarkson was my choice, but he wasn;t even on the ballot paper.
The result of the voting is that the Torys pulled in 306 seats, Labour 258 and the Liberals 57. Oh and a Green person got one too. To any sensible person, regardless of their politicl views, this should mean the Torys have won. But apparently not. Because more people voted against them than for them, this means they lose. How does that work? As I understand it 65% of the electorate turned out to vote. Meaning 35% didn't. So in actually fact the proportional representation system ought to mena that as the overall majority of people did not vote for an elected representative in parliament, then we shouldn't have one at all. The Prime Minister should be a silouette, like when you don;t upload your photo to Facebook. He should just be an icon. An image that does nothing and says nothing. He should in fact be the Stig. Sorry Jeremey, you've been upstaged by your own creation.
Apparently some people are upset as they couldn't get to vote because of the current voting system. 15 hours wasn't long enough to get 65% of the public through the polling stations. Thsi is because of the muppets employed to run the polling booths. Our local village hall was used for ours, and equipped with four booths. I don;t know why it had four, because we had two staff workign as a team to issue the ballot papers. It goes somethign like this. You hand your card to muppet number one, who then asks for your voters number. I am not a number, I am a free man! I don't know my number it is written on the card I have just handed to first muppet. First muppet then tells me my name. I agree with her. I know my name. It to is written on the card I have just handed her, hence she now knows my name too. Actually, as she works for the rest of the year in the local library she already knew my name anyway. She then reads my number to muppet number 2 who checks my number and writes it down, while muppet number 1 crosses my name out on the electoral roll list. She takes quite some time to find me, despite me living in a village with only two dozen streets. She then hands me my card back and a ballot paper is pushed at me by muppet number two. My wife, attempting to speed along the process gives them her number before handing over her card. This confuses them, and they have to ask her for it again, then tell her her name and repeat the performance again. My wifes number is one digit higher than mine, her address is the same, and her surname is also mine, yet for some strange reason the muppet has to go to the start of the electoral register and go through page by page agin until she findas her name and crosses her out. Amazingly she lives at the same address as me and is directly under my name.
No wonder the process takes so damned long. I wonder why they gave us four booths, when the process only allows one person through at a time. I can only suggest that some people arrive at the polling station determined to vote, but still undecided as to who to vote for. Either that or they are so thick they need time to find their candidates name on the list. We hada choice of about 8 I think, and all but one had a symbol next to them depicting the party they represented - so that people who couldn't read the name could recognise the picture. Only the independant candidate didn't have any emblem, probably because he couldn;t think of one on hsi own. Or maybe it was a ploy to capture more votes from the stupid.
At least we do know why 35% of the electorate failed to vote. It was nothing to do with tactical voting, inabilty to get into the polling booths (despite the best efforts of the muppets) or apathy. No, it was because they were too embarrssed to let anyone know that in broken Britain, educatiobnal standards are so bad they can't even spell X.
News that a Japanese Viagra Factory went into production overdrive at the news that Britain was having a General Election are grossly exagerrated.
Saturday, 1 May 2010
Cooking on Electric
E Day approaches. My electric conversion of the Cinquecento nears completion.
Tonight I have ripped out the last reminders that it ever had an ICE (Infernal Combustion Engine) with the removal of the petrol gauge and the coolant temperature gauge. Don't need them no more. I toyed with the idea of fitting the digital voltmeter and amp meter in their place, but they wouldn't look right and didn't quite fit in the available slot, so they will remain in the custom centre console along with he emergency stop button. Where the gauges were fitted thee is now black coloured plastic card, leaving a nice neat and tidy finish with just the speedometer and a bank of warning lights for the various lights, signals etc - exactly as it was when it left the factory, but tidier. Removal of those gauges wasn't strictly necessary, but why have a non working and pointless gauge on the dash? And it save an ounce or two in weight.
Next I reconnected the speedo cable and proved it worked - as well as getting some idea of the probable performance. In typical bodgit testing manner I jacked up one front wheel of the car, the differential stopping the other from turning, to do some testing. This is rather rough, as their is no load on the spinning wheel, but it proved the speedo works, and the readings I got were -
2nd gear up to 20 to 25 mph, 3rd gear round 30 mph. The car won't pull from start in fourth, so I tried changing on the fly from 3rd, but couldn't get the sync right - it will be easier once the car is actually moving. This is encouraging as with fourth and fifth gear still to go I reckon my target speed of 40 mph is achievable. Next plan will be charge the batteries again and replace the little one up front with a 110 amp so they all match - that should see a power increase., albeit a small one. Then I'll have to do some proper testing.
I've emailed VOSA to find out what tests and inspections the car will need before they allow it back on the road with a FREE tax disc.
Between now and then there are just one or two jobs to complete, the horn doesn't work and neither do the hazard warning lights. As both these should work with the ignition off I think it's probably a fuse or wiring fault somewhere. Another problem seems to be the headlamps - i get a Bright main beam, sidelamps, and very dim dipped beam, brighter than the sidelamps but not bright enough to be a headlamp - a sort of dim dip you'd expect when parked. Again I suspect a wiring problem, maybe even the same fuse?
A heater of some sort is in order, but as yet I'm stumped as to how to get enough heat. Those small plug in ceramic heaters would be ideal if they actually worked. Or an eberspraucher type heater if they were cheaper. Maybe I'll wait for someone to crash and scrap on of those Gwiz cars then I can get whatever thy use.
Tonight I have ripped out the last reminders that it ever had an ICE (Infernal Combustion Engine) with the removal of the petrol gauge and the coolant temperature gauge. Don't need them no more. I toyed with the idea of fitting the digital voltmeter and amp meter in their place, but they wouldn't look right and didn't quite fit in the available slot, so they will remain in the custom centre console along with he emergency stop button. Where the gauges were fitted thee is now black coloured plastic card, leaving a nice neat and tidy finish with just the speedometer and a bank of warning lights for the various lights, signals etc - exactly as it was when it left the factory, but tidier. Removal of those gauges wasn't strictly necessary, but why have a non working and pointless gauge on the dash? And it save an ounce or two in weight.
Next I reconnected the speedo cable and proved it worked - as well as getting some idea of the probable performance. In typical bodgit testing manner I jacked up one front wheel of the car, the differential stopping the other from turning, to do some testing. This is rather rough, as their is no load on the spinning wheel, but it proved the speedo works, and the readings I got were -
2nd gear up to 20 to 25 mph, 3rd gear round 30 mph. The car won't pull from start in fourth, so I tried changing on the fly from 3rd, but couldn't get the sync right - it will be easier once the car is actually moving. This is encouraging as with fourth and fifth gear still to go I reckon my target speed of 40 mph is achievable. Next plan will be charge the batteries again and replace the little one up front with a 110 amp so they all match - that should see a power increase., albeit a small one. Then I'll have to do some proper testing.
I've emailed VOSA to find out what tests and inspections the car will need before they allow it back on the road with a FREE tax disc.
Between now and then there are just one or two jobs to complete, the horn doesn't work and neither do the hazard warning lights. As both these should work with the ignition off I think it's probably a fuse or wiring fault somewhere. Another problem seems to be the headlamps - i get a Bright main beam, sidelamps, and very dim dipped beam, brighter than the sidelamps but not bright enough to be a headlamp - a sort of dim dip you'd expect when parked. Again I suspect a wiring problem, maybe even the same fuse?
A heater of some sort is in order, but as yet I'm stumped as to how to get enough heat. Those small plug in ceramic heaters would be ideal if they actually worked. Or an eberspraucher type heater if they were cheaper. Maybe I'll wait for someone to crash and scrap on of those Gwiz cars then I can get whatever thy use.
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