I wasn't particularly hungry when I got home from my ride last night. I tend to ride with a big smile on my face, and with my mouth open I managed to eat a fair few flies. The first one was a big one and I nearly choked. I tried to keep my mouth shut, but obviously failed, as I had a steady intake for the entire 18 miles. I'm sure it'll do me good.
So I give you a version of an old favourite:
There was an old man who swallowed a fly.
I don't know why he swallowed a fly.
I guess he'll die.
There was an old man who swallowed a spider
There was an old man who swallowed a spider
That wiggled and jiggled and tickled insider him.
(Continue verses)
He swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why he swallowed a fly.
I guess he'll die.
There was an old man who swallowed a bird.
How absurd! To swallow a bird!
He swallowed the bird to catch the spider
That wiggled and jiggled and tickled insider him.
He swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why He swallowed a fly.
I guess he'll die.
(Continue verses)
Cat . . . Imagine that! He swallowed a cat.
Dog . . . What a hog! He swallowed a dog.
Goat . . . He opened his throat and in walked a goat.
Cow . . . I don't know how he swallowed that cow.
There was an old man, he swallowed a horse. He died of course!
When I'm on the cycle path that runs along the canal and is shared by cycles and pedestrians I'll use my bell to make people aware of my imminent arrival...it's tricky to get it just right so you don't frighten them. I'll always say thank you and normally throw in a a'good morning' or 'good evening' for good measure. Generally the going is good, but yesterday I was confronted by two cyclists riding side by side blocking the path as they came towards me. I'd like to think they were distracted by their conversation, but as they weren't talking that couldn't have been the case. It wasn't until we all stopped facing each other like troops on the demilitarised zone in Korea that it seemed to dawn on them that unless they went single file we'd be stuck for ever.
On the road, it's a matter of taking my life in my hands. I don't use a bell, as I've found a bellow at the top of my voice is usually more effective. Yesterday, I didn't hesitate to use the words Fxxxxxg cxxt at the woman who was texting whilst driving her BMW and had managed to career into the cycling lane just in front of me. She seemed completely taken aback, and I don't know why, as I doubt her text was more important than my life. A few hundred yards along a man was reading his copy of The Sun whilst driving along in the cycle lane. He got the same treatment. I think I'm totally justified...in fact in younger days, I probably would have snapped off his wing mirror as a more lasting reminder. Thank heavens I've mellowed.
On a lighter note, I smiled at the white van driver who bellowed "Two nil" to me in Bermondsey Street. I always cycle in my Brighton and Hove Albion Away shirt...it's a very bright green and black strip which generally makes me quite noticeable. 2-0 was the score last week when Crystal Palace stopped my team having any chance of a place in the Premiership.
On another lighter note, George is coming on fine now. He's hobbling around, and last week celebrated his birthday...I think he appreciated it was one he may well not have seen without a good deal of luck and the efforts from the very fabulous doctors and nurses of the NHS.
I was prompted to write his post because of this
There was an old man, he swallowed a horse. He died of course!
When I'm on the cycle path that runs along the canal and is shared by cycles and pedestrians I'll use my bell to make people aware of my imminent arrival...it's tricky to get it just right so you don't frighten them. I'll always say thank you and normally throw in a a'good morning' or 'good evening' for good measure. Generally the going is good, but yesterday I was confronted by two cyclists riding side by side blocking the path as they came towards me. I'd like to think they were distracted by their conversation, but as they weren't talking that couldn't have been the case. It wasn't until we all stopped facing each other like troops on the demilitarised zone in Korea that it seemed to dawn on them that unless they went single file we'd be stuck for ever.
On the road, it's a matter of taking my life in my hands. I don't use a bell, as I've found a bellow at the top of my voice is usually more effective. Yesterday, I didn't hesitate to use the words Fxxxxxg cxxt at the woman who was texting whilst driving her BMW and had managed to career into the cycling lane just in front of me. She seemed completely taken aback, and I don't know why, as I doubt her text was more important than my life. A few hundred yards along a man was reading his copy of The Sun whilst driving along in the cycle lane. He got the same treatment. I think I'm totally justified...in fact in younger days, I probably would have snapped off his wing mirror as a more lasting reminder. Thank heavens I've mellowed.
On a lighter note, I smiled at the white van driver who bellowed "Two nil" to me in Bermondsey Street. I always cycle in my Brighton and Hove Albion Away shirt...it's a very bright green and black strip which generally makes me quite noticeable. 2-0 was the score last week when Crystal Palace stopped my team having any chance of a place in the Premiership.
On another lighter note, George is coming on fine now. He's hobbling around, and last week celebrated his birthday...I think he appreciated it was one he may well not have seen without a good deal of luck and the efforts from the very fabulous doctors and nurses of the NHS.
I was prompted to write his post because of this
