Archive of February 2012

February 24


I read things I have written here and I feel pretty much sick and sad. Aero never comments any more, I am ranting and raging to myself, it has no meaning nor theme nor any coherent structure. Neither does my life, but that is no excuse. Going out on my bicycle is not an answer, but I am unable to sleep and have no answer. Tomorrow I shall go to work - Aero is left alone again and it will, no doubt, feel like an act of anger and spite. How I ache and rage against the wastefulness of my life that has left me deposited here washed up with a dead end recycling job and not much hope of any future. But that is the talk of poor me and he is DEAD. Long live manic me. Now let's get those screens tested and sorted and let's get the shit stowed and let's haul ass and build computers and sell the fuckers to bring in the money to pay the man. And let's kiss ass and apologise too while we're at it - everyone has to eat shit some of the time.
10:29 PM | 0 Comments

manners and misogyny

I have a strange feeling that the exhibition of unwarranted courtly manners can be a "tell" for a misogynistic nature. I have desisted from waiting for my therapist to sit before I do myself. I derive a weird pleasure from knowing that my partner is unlikely to ever read these words far less to comment on them/ How regressed am I? About eleven, maybe? Luckily it changes all the time and I mainly want to talk to my inner adult - the seventy year old geezer inside - who is not so dumb. Talking of therapists she wants me to write a letter to my father to get him out of my head - nice idea - sadly not so simple - the fucker needs shooting and a bullet in the brain, well it is kinda terminal. Manner maketh the man - misogyny maketh the me (as my father made me)
04:35 AM | 0 Comments

sad and tragic

Sad was when I got excited to see a comment on Ghost Bikes and think it might have been from my partner.... Only to discover it was my own comment to myself.... Tragic was the revelation as to exactly how much I hate my father I want to kill the fucker the mother fucker abusive bastard I have no love left for him he is a purely abusive bastard I am so scared I am him the only reason my partner loves me is as a specimen of abuse I want to kill my father very badly What held me back must have been something good struggling and I can just remember the last good thing I felt - it died when my sister was born I wish i could make my father never be alive But where does that leave me? He is the most unmitigated unloving awful bastard I could ever imagine - why the fuck was he allowed to live - I could believe in eugenics - but then I would have to go - and him before me He is the Antichrist - and I mean that.... (OH HE'D BE SO PROUD!)
12:51 AM | 0 Comments
February 18

Ghost Bikes

I suspect people have observed so called "Ghost Bikes" and here is an interesting column on the subject which makes me realise that this phenomenon is perhaps not "something for me" in quite the way I had imagined it could be and leads me to realise how useful I see these "momento mori" of the highways First let me get off my chest that, contrary to [[Christina Patterson]]'s views, I am not taking enormous risks in cycling about London, although I cannot avoid remaining vulnerable I take every opportunity to maximize my safety - most definitely from mortal danger. It is possible a broken limb would make me revise my thoughts, but having survived without one so far that remains to be seen. I do believe the ghost bikes, properly deployed, have a secondary function which has been totally missed in this invective (is that too strong a word?). I am always struck, riding, driving, or walking past a ghost bike, by the need to be "super safe", to be vigilant. Surely she can see that these Ghost Bikes are a highly effective way to indicate an accident black spot for cyclists, who face special hazards on the roads? I must say I have to add a rubric to that which is that this only works if the bikes continue to be painted white. I would also be upset by a rusting ghost bike, or one without it's wheels, but these are things I have yet to see (not that I am calling her a liar!). If I were a journalist I would publish to this effect in a column, but as it is I shall settle for a blog post!
03:42 AM | 1 Comment

A wrong turned right!

Behold! The fabulous Aero wins out and proves her point! Self-belief and persistence are rewarded with the refund of a parking fine and a token of restitution! Thank heavens for the existence of an [[ombudsman]] and an example to all! I shall add the full story soon
03:26 AM | 0 Comments
February 14

Terms of engagement

It seems a date has been set. Marriage may or may not suit me, it is fairly certain engagement has not made a gentleman of me, and therapy is unlikely to achieve that within a lifetime (given that I started after the half way point and, unlike Aero, do not believe in miracles), so I am pessimistic about the prospects for Aero's happiness right now about the prospects for any reconciliation with my family about any progress with analysis heck - just about everything - anyone would think I was depressed, and maybe the onset of a manic spell recently has indeed made my feel apprehension - the switch was thrown last Thursday.
01:25 AM | 0 Comments
February 10

Let it snow!

I had so much to say, but just want to record that the plan is to get away to the New Forest for a break. This is a great treat from the marvelous Aero, but regrettably we cannot invite Derek, due to the inclement weather. However I am hopeful of stretching the legs of the inestimable Quaker and the beloved Aero in at least one ambulatory excursion, which may even extend to cycling proportions, retracing our first ever ride on a hired bicycle. What a pompous paragraph the above is! Just wanted to make it plain I was self aware, may come back and edit this with some poesy, but have other things to busy myself with right now....
02:54 AM | 0 Comments