Procedures

Found myself way oop north last week. Yep – I took the train to Durham to meet up with some work colleagues and have meetings etc. Doesn’t sound too exciting, I know, but my employer arranged for this meeting to take place behind the scenes at Durham cathedral...and also incorporated a guided tour of the building. To say it was amazing is an understatement. I’d never been to Durham before so it was a fairly spectacular introduction to the place. The city itself is pretty nice – it’s not a big city like Birmingham or Manchester, but for that reason it has a totally different feel; very olde worlde, little winding streets and crooked alleys with independent shops built seemingly on top of each other.  Most people have probably heard of Durham University and the reputation it has, but the cathedral and castle are the first things you see as you approach on the train. Place looks like fucking Hogwarts – indeed, they used the cathedral as a set in Harry Potter...but I've never really been interested enough to watch any of those films so I couldn’t really comment. Something about ‘Monogle’s’ classroom? I don’t know. Meh. The guided tour of the cathedral was fascinating, and it was helped along by the fact that tour guide seemed to know a factoid about every single brick and door knob and column...so kudos to him. I’d definitely recommend a visit to the cathedral if you ever find yourself in that part of the world, and also a visit to the Shakespeare Inn just around the corner. It’s basically the Prancing Pony from Lord of the Rings, but without the Nazgul trying to stab you in your bed.

Durham cathedral entrance

Took all these pics with my PlayBook

Durham cathedral cloisters. There were bats flying around, naturally.

Saturday was slightly more nerve-wracking. A little bit of background: I've had gut problems for years. This may qualify as ‘over sharing,’ but fuck it. I don’t care. So yeah, I've had gut problems for years, and these problems have manifested themselves in various ways: feeling like shit, bloated, farting out noxious gasses that could put down a shopping centre full of families. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember and recently I’d resigned to putting up with it for the rest of my life...however long that will be. I’d tried altering my diet, cutting out alcohol and other stuff like bread and dairy and also trying those bullshit bacteria drinks like Actimel and Yakult...to no avail. However, however. Saturday morning I went and had a ‘procedure.’ This procedure is more commonly known as colonic irrigation and involved a pipe being shoved up my ass and warm water being forced into my colon. I must admit to being extremely fucking apprehensive – who wants to get their ass out in front of a stranger and have a pipe slipped up it?! I was even more apprehensive when myself and my significant other (who arranged the appointment, by the way) walked into the clinic and the only member of staff appeared to be a bearded man who clearly weighed at least 30 stone. Not a good start. Fears were repealed though when the therapist turned up and it was a less fearsome-looking female of normal human-like proportions. So I took off my pants,  got on the table, had water squirted up me, shat it out...and I must say that the result is nothing short of revelatory. Since Saturday morning (it’s now Monday morning), I have had no gurgling, no pain, no bloating...and no repugnant clouds of stench. The impossible has become reality...I have normal guts! Amazing! So, if you suffer from a bad stomach/digestive issues I’d wholeheartedly recommend going for one of these treatments. Once you get over the initial embarrassment and realise that the people who offer it see hundreds of asses and yours is no different, you’ll be thankful that you did.

Away from ass news, I sorted the issues with my new bike. The Suzuki Goose now has some new indicators and a headlight that points in the right direction as opposed to at the floor. The only niggle I have now is the speedo. Because it’s an imported machine, the speedometer is in Kilometres instead of mph. And because of this, it has a conversion sticker overlaid that...er...converts your speed to mph. It’s just that because the Goose is so much more powerful than the CBF, I feel like I’m going slower than the speed I’m told I’m going at. Example – when the speedo tells me I’m doing 30mph, I feel like I’m going slower than that because the engine is hardly ticking over, just sort of growling, and I can’t rely on the flow of traffic to tell me that I’m actually doing 30mph because nobody drives at the correct speed anyway! Fucking annoying.

Equally annoying is the way that potential buyers of my previous motorcycle are pissing me about. It’s advertised on several websites for £1650, which is an absolute steal for this type of bike...but people keep trying to get me to part with it for less. One guy turned up to look at it on Saturday afternoon, spent about half an hour of my time trying to find faults with it (he couldn’t) and then offered me £1400! That’s £250 under what it’s advertised for...cheeky twat! I understand that buyers expect to haggle...but that was taking the piss, and clearly indicated that he’d turned up with that much cash totally expecting to pay that much for the bike. Quite simply: do one. Other biking news: I picked up a rather nice biker jacket at a carboot sale on Sunday morning...for a fiver! I also managed to get an official and rather rare PlayStation carry case for £5 too. There was a distinct lack of Dreamcast stuff there, but you can’t have it all: I think a virtually new biking jacket and a PlayStation branded carry case for a combined total of £10 are great spoils. On top of that, the weather this weekend has been stunningly good...so all in all a pretty good weekend. Feels a bit strange to not be moaning about shit (no pun intended), but don’t worry – I’m sure I’ll find something to bitch about in my next post.