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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 isn’t as good as I’d hoped, and when it runs out, the extra weight and the friction of the electric motor are really something, “zero drag” my arse. Turns out I’m actually in good fettle and quite capable of bicycling a long way on a classical, “acoustic” bicycle. Perhaps I’ll sell the kit to someone else; after my warm review, maybe even you would like to buy it?
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Some work. There’s almost fighting among the enthusiastic people who contribute information about vehicles (what colours they’re 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 Friday’s Endless Appetizers; took a while to notice that it’s 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 … cool story.
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Someone as thick as the proverbial made me wonder about the consistency of pig shit. It turns out I’m not the first to wonder, and the consensus seems to be that pigs’ stools are loose after all. But they’re 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, you’ll be pleased. Although Van Morrison is a great bunch of lads, may I be controversial? The music was my least favourite part. (I won’t be the first to say it’s a shame they didn’t use that Boney M song, ha ha.)
The Beatles: Get Back – The Rooftop Concert. The shortest thing I’ve ever seen in a cinema, which is very un–Peter 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.