Round two. See pevious post for Round One.
Mobile Phone Nokia Lumens 510 or similar crap name.
For reasons only know to itself and the prepubescent computer programmer who designed the thing (for which I was told the reason no instruction book is issued is because it would be over a metre high A5 but it is available to download, you could watch the instruction videos on it, but your best option mate is to sit there pressing buttons, so says 12 year old phone vendor) once they finally managed to organise the switch over of my number to my new phone, all by itself it decided that all it should do is make phone calls. Now I remember the first ever mobile phone, my mate in bomb disposal had one, it was a suitcase with a car battery and a phone with a round dial, the big Bakelite type phone found in every other hall way in the UK in the 1970s. We marvelled at how it was "mobile" and you could make phone calls. Nowadays if your phone only operates as a phone then its lacking somewhat, most do everything up to and including make expresso coffee. So my phone taking longer to send an email than a 1st class letter takes to arrive, or refusing to send or receive picture messages was a sure fire way to vex me mightily. Especially as it took superhero in phone shop 25 miles away 2 hours to persuade it to stop playing silly buggers. It now works but the apprentice can operate more functions than I can, I caught him making toast with it in his house.
I have finally conceded defeat and throw training gizmo back in its clever packaging because after pressing the buttons like a demented Skinnerian rodent it failed to do its part by recording how worthwhile my training is going/has been. Of its seven functions it rarely bothered to monitor two, one was heart rate but as most of the time I could hear my own heartbeat I didn't need a wrist device who's display required the eyesight of a Peregrine Falcon to see. The fact that the wretched device then refused to store any data and transfer it to my PC was almost the final straw, but the one that gave the camel who's back was about to break the final shove was an email declaring 47% discount on rival products with easier to read displays and more efficient functions. Its now in the post back to the manufacturer who have apologized and promised a refund. The only benefit gained from having the device was carrying it.
Compaq Presario PC
Ok so its 12 years old but thats no excuse to fail to connect to the internet to allow yesterdays posting. its also slower than a retired racing snail. Any change of function now requires the window to be closed with a sharp slap or the inevitable turn off and turn on again.
Gerry. Land Rover Discovery.
He has been brillaint since his inauspicious start when he broke down and refused to move after I changed the audio output from Radio 3, the preferred channel of the OAP who was his lifetime owner, to some British Heavy Metal. The shock of Saxon's 747 caused immense upset and we coasted to a halt in the darkness until rescue. Well the little scamp has been talking to Renatta, our mobile disco and bin van and has copied her in the lets not start malarkey. He is currently awaiting recovery and examination by Steve the mechanic who will no doubt cure him of his sloth like tendency. Until the next time.
Boardman Team Racing Bike.
Not a usual target for venting my spleen but he almost let me down, or rather let me know that a fart and go faster super bike needs better TLC than being left in a warm dry conservatory between spin outs. As there was a gap in the rain storms and as Gerry was disabled bike was necessary but in the classic way I can do things I had not changed the burst rear tube from the last ride (yes I know how long ago that was but since then activity based lard reduction has centered around spinning, running, exercise bike, looking for cadence sensor for turbo trainer and chasing toddler) Anyway in the lay off of only a week his chain (bike not toddler's) was set solid and would not turn with wheel. Panic set in as I simultaneously oiled and prayed to the small god of bike repairs to release my bikes chain from the rusty grip. The embarrassment of having to take this speed machine to Steve the bike with a solid rusted chain through lack of care would have been too great to bear. Finally after much bending, pressure, oil, cleaning, swearing and promises never to be so slack ever again the rust demon departed and we were mobile again. I did have to wear wellingtons for the first half mile of today's outing thanks to a massive amount of water still on the lane but eventually we had a fantastic ride average speed over 5 miles was 23mph. But then some more techno narks set me off again.
Another crap Nokia
The one that prompted the replacement and hours of wasted time trying to get it working has now been demoted to mp3 player. I use heavy metal or prog rock to act as a training aid and quell the voices in my head. It had a flat battery so todays ride was accompanied by bird song and th sound of rubber on tarmac. Nothing wrong with that but as I was going for a personal best the cadence offered by Wheels of Steel acts as an incentive to churn faster when chasing lorries down the A44.
Garmin GPS bike computer thingy.</div>
Having failed to make a personal best on the way in and having got a recharged battery so a heavy drum beat and metallic rift to set the pace the return leg was going to be superfast, and it was. It felt superfast. Some sections I was even out of the saddle sprinting. However my efforts are unrecorded as the GPS which my nose is almost pressed into on the bars could not identify any of the 13 satellites above so no land speed record was set as none was recorded. It did manage to aquire its position just after I pushed it through the conservatory door 5 miles after being asked to do so.
Big Red Double Decker Bus
Tonight was fat camp and after getting in a 10k run I set off to see how much of the Christmas excess I had shed. Big red double decker bus caused a traffic jam at one of the two road junctions our town has. Once the traffic had cleared I got in to fat camp club at the stroke of 6pm, rather than my usual 5.59 and as such the fat scales were deactivated as the oprators turned to mice at the stroke of 6. This meant I had to wait an hour to be weighed and had I been weighed at the right time I would have won the not quite as fat as last time award for the week and got a nice sticker as a reward. Appeals to the ref fell on deaf ears and whilst its sad that a grown man should be so annoyed at not getting an ikkle pritty sticker for being the best less obese than last time attendee, I had earned that sticker by refusing cream cakes and by eating spinach and dust.
I was robbed.
I consoled myself with a Chicken Jalefrezi, Garlic and Chili Naan, Mushroom Rice and Poppadoms.
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