my daughter is at my mum’s for the weekend, which means i can get the moped out.
i usually store it at my mums during the week as my area is thick with thieves.
why they’d wanna steal this piece of shit i don’t know but unless i’ve got eyes in the back of my head, the alarm goes off and the bike’s moved an inch.
so, while my sprog is at my mum’s, i keep the bike in the living room.
the problem is that it drips petrol, maybe a pint a week, so i have to put newspaper underneath to catch the drips.
last night it gave me a headache, hope i wasn’t too ‘far-out man’.
this morning the house stinks, it’s only a tiny leak, but this is only a tiny house.
the bike is between me and the telly, looking at me, like a skunk with the shits.
like a dog that eats Pedigree Chum for fun yet constantly secretes a nauseous green fetid cloud from it’s arse.
i should take the moped out, there are plenny of interesting places i mean to go back to, take the ipad as an overgrown camera to share my finds.