Motorcycle rant number 1,298 shall commence thus..
It was a stormy afternoon; it was a dark, stormy afternoon.. actually, to expand on the idea, it was a dark stormy afternoon in the pit of Hades; for my steed was about to cause me unnecessary angst and inconvenience, not once, not twice, but thrice.
The familiar vibrations in my buttocks initially aroused my suspicions, 'bump bump bump'..oh, fantastic, I have a puncture.
Fortunately, the offending piece of matter had splintered the inards of my vehicles back tyre in a rather convenient spot; right outside a mechanic's garage..or should I say, hut with a tool box and and air compressor present..yes, this would be a rather more accurate description.
Because of the favourable location at which the bike became unrideable, it was spared a sound thrashing and simply wheeled to the side of the road where a female mechanic...oooh, kinky..would unscrew my nuts, lube up the rubber and give it a severe pumping..in other words..put a patch on the hole..
10 minutes later and all is well with my machine and I'm flying through the Issan countryside, basically just looking really cool and great. I paused for refreshment at one of the local restaurants..or should I say, corrugated iron roofed shack with some food casually strewn about the place, and an old bird of at least 131 years old standing at a right angle over a wok that has never seen any washing up liquid, ever...yes, that's more like it..
Anyway..pad krapow nor mai moo (pork, basil and bamboo on rice, to the philistines that aren't in the know) consumed heartily and off I rode.
But...no...bollocks...fuck off you [at][at][at][at]...not again.....
The familiar buttock vibrations were even more vigorous this time around and had branched down to my testicles.."Bitch" I thought, with reference to the bastard women who'd just 'fixed' my bike..the fucker tried to castrate me.
Again fortunately, as always in Thailand, you're never too far from a mechanic who can 'Bpa Yang"..mend a puncture..hmmm..conspiracy theory anyone?
So in it went again and it turns out the bint at the last mechanics was crap at her job and had forgotten to put glue on the patch or some other fundemental cock-up.
The guy in this shop assured me that he was the dog's nuts at fixing shit..and after sending his 2 year old nephew out in the car to buy some glue, had the wheel back on in no time..
Again, I found myself hurtling down the road appearing rather hunky and masculine, when I decided to stop at a shop for a quick ale..it was late evening by now and I thought I deserved a beverage after the harrowing events of the day..
"One large beer Chang please, serving wench"
Pallet and brain refreshed, I hopped deftly onto the machine and...yep...what do you know....the whole world can go fuck itself up the arse...yes, another puncture...by now it was dark, I was in the middle of no where and had to drive the 7 or so kilometeres home with my arse parked on the epicenter of an 8.4 richter scale earthquake..not pleasant and obvioulsy rather annoying.
Come the morning, 'the shop' was visited and I told him to "just change the fucking thing, please"...which he did..and if it goes flat again in the next two weeks..well, he MOST certainly will not be attending any function I have pending in the next decade or two.