Outside of that, this is quite funny. Thanks be to Toby for that.
Nothing much else has been funny this weekend. I encountered first hand the fun of too much very strong coffee on Friday (if you really want to know the consequences, email me and I'll tell you), and then on Saturday had two punctures. Or rather, two valve stems ripped off the rear tyre on the Klein. At least the rear wheel didn't come out due to another axle/bolt failure. Seems right now that the bike is cursed, but I'm still hopeful it'll be working by the time it gets to Stockholm. MUST NOT get the DFL brand, no matter what (this may involve sabotaging Toby's bike, or just getting too drunk to participate in the race...)
Anyway, Saturday afternoon I tried to get to Fruitstock. Somehow (don't ask) got lost at Baker Street and couldn't find Regent's Park for a full hour, and by the time I did get there, couldn't find the festival (could hear a banjo recital going on nearby though) and then, almost apoplectic with rage and ready to punch out a tree, found the sign to the festival at about 4.55. Well angry by now, I realised that the last thing I should be getting stressed about was enjoying myself, so I tried sitting under a tree for half an hour. Was still very angry, so stomped off to the Crown & Sceptre in Great Titchfield Street, and had a couple of pints with Dead Hugh. Then back to pick up the Klein from Nick, and home.
Next day, up bright and early, played tennis, rode bike, went to pub, really enjoyed myself. Well, actually couldn't drag myself out of bed until about 1pm, missed tennis (oops), went back to bed again, felt gutted and utterly depressed all day. Then drove home, went riding in the woods with Toby, didn't crash (but wimped out of everything interesting), went home, watched Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (which is pretty good, but not as good as I had hoped for.
And exhale...
Addendum: this is what you get when you type define naivety into Google. Sure there's a joke waiting for its punchline there...
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