Thursday, 23 March 2017

Steve 'N' Seagulls

Off to the Rescue Rooms, Nottingham on Friday to see Steve 'N' Seagulls. Check this version of the AC/DC classic 'Thunderstruck'.............

Saturday, 18 March 2017

Golly Gosh!

Fuck Forest, Fuck Work, Fuck The Bikeshed MC, Fuck Sideburn, Fuck the Weather, Fuck 'Adventure' Bikes, Fuck Sportsbikes, Fuck Harley Davidsons, Fuck The Triumph Bobber, Fuck The Horsey Horse Riders, Fuck Cyclists, (Especially The Fuckers Riding In A Peloton On Main Roads), Fuck North Face Clad, Trekking Pole Sunday Wankers, Fuck Mobile Phone Using Drivers, Fuck All London Shandy Swilling Fuckers, Fuck The Premiership, Fuck Litter Dropping McDonalds Eating Fuckers, Fuck Animal Cruelty, Fuck Forest, (Yes, Yes, I know I've Already Said Fuck Forest), Fuck Instagram, Fuck Facebook, Fuck My Leaking Goretex Walking Boots That's Given Up The Ghost After Less Than Six Months Daily Use, Fuck Merchandise, Fuck Vaping, ( Blow That In My Face Again And I'll Insert It Into Your Poo-Hole) Fuck Nottingham, Fuck Journalists, Fuck Choppers, Fuck Nodding Motorcyclists, Fuck Waving Motorcyclists, ( I Have Fuck -All In Common With You, Concentrate On Your Line Through The Corner Rather Than Waving At Me, I Don't Give A Fuck And Have Fuck All In Common With You You Waving Clown) Fuck People Who Fit Windows In A Volkswagen Transporter, It's A Fucking Van For Fucks Sake! That's Why God Invented Tents! Fuck Alloy Wheels On VW Transporters, Banded Steels Are The Way To Go Fucker! Fuck Over-Priced 'Classic Bikes' Fuck Cancer, Fuck Moto GP, ( Support Your Local Club Racer) Fuck Thieves, Fuck Scammers, Fuck Beardy Hipsters, (Get A Fucking Shave You Hairy Fucker) Fuck Whichever God You Follow, Fuck Tattoos, Fuck Negativity, Fuck 'Da Police (Tune!) Fuck! I've Got A Supermoto! Game Over Fucker......

Friday, 10 March 2017


Glue and paint not included. In a land, far, far away I can remember going up Cockpit Hill with my nan and squashing my face against the window of Syd Sharrocks Model Shop to gaze in awe at the display of Airfix Model kits. Downstairs I remember, was fishing tackle, air guns and catapults, but upstairs, up the creaky wooden steps, way beyond the smell of casters and maggots and the balsa wood aeroplanes with tiny-two stroke engines, hanging from twine from the ceiling to simulate flight,  was a real treasure trove of the plastic scale model planes, trains, soldiers, cars and motorcycles all with the fantastic artwork of the legendary Roy Cross.
            Many happy hours spent with my dad, him painstakingly cutting the component parts from the plastic spars, sanding and painting and carefully gluing them together to create miniature replicas of the real thing. All the time I would be gluing my fingers together and sniffing the solvents in the adhesive, how times change!  As I got older and after my old man had taught me to build the kits myself I became quite an accomplished modeller myself. Apparently, the later model boxes had the bombs, bullet traces and rising flame/smoke airbrushed out of the original pictures, I mean, come on, no wonder Airfix sales declined, after all, as an eight year old isn't that what it was all about?

Friday, 3 March 2017

Unauthorised Merchandise

What I really like about the blogger platform is the whole punk rock, diy ethic. The whole Rank Amateur, John Bull Printing Set, easy to use, try it, shagged it, fucked it up, never mind, there's always tomorrow attitude, something sadly missing in today's 'watch what you say, don't offend anyone, lets network, I really love your product' world. Like I've said many times on the old loveless blog, I've got a real job, i don't make my living posting bollocks on the 'tinterweb, I get up at twat 'o clock in the morning, work a mind-numbing shift and wheelspin out of the factory yard at 15.10 hrs everyday to get home, walk my dogs and as the days get longer, ride my bikes. thats it. no packdrill and no agenda's. simples. I like the fact that people get uptight about 'intellectual property' squeeze me? baking powder? does anything actually belong to anyone? Julian, a long term mate and sparring partner sent me this today, a re-make, re-model of the old loveless sticker designs that we sent out for free but with his own twist. I love it me. It's a one-off. not for sale. Just working and improving on a design that my daughter Jess came up with years ago. Thanks Julian. (Can you sort me one out? Size large, preferably in black so it doesn't show the stains) The Answer? Frank Zappa.....

Sunday, 26 February 2017

Your Motion Says

Under leaden Derbyshire sky's, it was either either sit around waiting for a break in the clouds, a sudden increase in temperature or wrap up, bite the bullet and do a 'Danny Dyer'. 'Come on treacle, let's get amongst it, WALLOP!' Me and Dangerous chose life, heading out in a positevely balmy seven degrees centigrade . Fair play to Dangerous, after his Mallory Park incident where he mashed his collarbone big time it took him all of, what, two miles to be back on the pace, funny how the pain of seven screws, a titanium framework and hours and hours of physio disappears when the adrenaline of riding a motorcycle very fast in poor conditions focuses the mind.
   I'm fifty eight and Dangerous is seventy two and yet we turned into a pair of dickheads, Dangerous rooster-tailing salty water off his back tyre, wheelies and general hooligan behaviour, down the Via Gellia and a thick ribbon of salt and limestone scum off the never ending convoy of Derbyshire Roadstone wagons adding to the already tricky conditions. Toasted cheese and tuna sandwiches and strong coffee to warm frozen limbs and deserted roads, no one is out today, into Matlock, the traditional biker, Sunday afternoon, meeting point, no-one here, Me, Dangerous, the local scooter posse, that's it, what's up? Your dead a long time fuckers..........