Week 152
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Finally fitted a Swytch kit to an bicycle, so now I have an electric bicycle. Which is amazing, but a bit disappointing. The range of the battery isnāt as good as Iād hoped, and when it runs out, the extra weight and the friction of the electric motor are really something, āzero dragā my arse. Turns out Iām actually in good fettle and quite capable of bicycling a long way on a classical, āacousticā bicycle. Perhaps Iāll sell the kit to someone else; after my warm review, maybe even you would like to buy it?
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Some work. Thereās almost fighting among the enthusiastic people who contribute information about vehicles (what colours theyāre painted, etc) on bustimes.org; maybe it was a mistake ever to give anyone a box to type in on the internet, because who wants to moderate a community?
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Enjoyed My 14-Hour Search for the End of TGI Fridayās Endless Appetizers; took a while to notice that itās from many years ago (the seventh day of the eighteenth month of 1914, what?). I am quite near one of those restaurants, and it remains an enigma ā¦ cool story.
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Someone as thick as the proverbial made me wonder about the consistency of pig shit. It turns out Iām not the first to wonder, and the consensus seems to be that pigsā stools are loose after all. But theyāre also probably not sentient, so, in that sense, they are thick, so there.
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To the cinema.
Belfast. If you like it when they say the name of the film in a film, youāll be pleased. Although Van Morrison is a great bunch of lads, may I be controversial? The music was my least favourite part. (I wonāt be the first to say itās a shame they didnāt use that Boney M song, ha ha.)
The Beatles: Get Back ā The Rooftop Concert. The shortest thing Iāve ever seen in a cinema, which is very unāPeter Jackson, eh. The seats in the IMAX screen, especially the armrests, are a bit weird, so after a bit I had to reposition my arms to get the blood flowing back in them.