Colonnades

Hello. Never got round to doing that post at the weekend after all. There's no really exiting reason other than that I was actually doing stuff and didn't have the inclination to sit down and write about it for nobody in particular to not read. Which is what I'm doing now, weirdly. I put this down to the fact that there's fuck all on the tellybox and I've drunk all the alcohol in the flat so I've got very little else of import with which to fill my evening. So here I am. Writing on this blog again because if I don't, a little voice pops into my skull and nags at me to write inane shite, in a surprisingly similar fashion to what I'm laying down right here, right now, just incase someone actually stumbles across my blog and notices that it hasn't been updated for a while and mistakes it for one of those 'ghost blogs' that hasn't had a new post since November 2007.

On Saturday morning I took a fairly long stroll down to a local(ish) park called Heaton, erm...Park with my girlfriend. Here we took in the delights of the former Town Hall colonnade (which was removed from the City Centre many moons ago and is now hidden amongst some trees), an abandoned manor house that features some rather Doom-esque goat skulls as decorative motifs, and witnessed a duck try to drown another duck. Photographic evidence follows:

Colonnade

Heaton Hall

Demonic goat-face

Murderous duck (on top)

Once we arrived back home (after stopping off at a pub along the route for a jacket potato, of all things), I was driven out of the flat by the constant noise coming through the ceiling from the inconsiderate cunts who live above us. I've touched on this in a previous post, but the constant thudding and banging that echoes through our apartment due to the sheer ignorance of the two tenants directly above is driving me insane. I took the opportunity to go and view a new motorbike (on which I put down a deposit - it's a Suzuki GS500 incase anyone wondered), and then spent the rest of the evening/night at my cousin's house to escape the unholy cacophony of banging doors and stamping footsteps that have become the soundtrack to my short tenure in the current abode. We're already looking at alternative accomodation. Again. Grrr.

I'm going to collect the new motorcycle on Saturday morning hopefully and am currently in the process of buying some extremely expensive locks and chains - one of which I'm assured is 'unbreakable' by the manufacturer. I don't actually intend to put this to the test though, as after my recent experience with the Goose being pinched, I will be storing the new machine in a garage in a different postcode until the time comes that I can get the hell out of this noisy cave and move into a house with either a private garden or a garage of it's own. Sucks a little that I won't be able to just hop on to the new bike without a 45 minute commute to the aforementioned lock-up, but I'm determined not to have another bike stolen by dirty, stinking, worthless dole-scum dressed in grey sweat pants and Nike Shox trainers.

So that's what's happening in my life at present. I'm going to a chocolate festival at the weekend, which should be interesting, especially as there's promise of a fairly decent ale tent in situ. And what more could anyone need? Chocolate and ale. Splendid.

In the meantime, here are a few more photos from Heaton Park: