you will have to come an get it!!                                                                                                                                                                             

Fuck me Tango not only a Harley Rider, but you now have a downer on staffies,  God you are shit man                                                                                                                                                                             

Charletons!!?? Secret Hardly Dangerous lovers??? & whats wrong with the best breed of dog as well?     Well the hoodies were TM & his minme clone collecting their pensions from the post office then their medication from the chemists next door.They set off with a large bag of sweets to ......................                                                                                                                                                                             

eat and enjoy them and get a personality transplant and then Tangoman turned into a really nice person.   (Which he probably is even though he rides a harley just has to stop the binge drinking and comming on to the site and making such a jerk of himself.                                                                                                                                                                             

but suddenly from over hes pick n mix (from asda as tescos were all to dear)hes phone started to ring oh my god he thought its..................                                                                                                                                                                             

Old Charles Gainsborough. Now Charles Gainsborough was many things; a traveller, inventor, thinker, explorer, philosopher and sportsman. In the spring of 1901 his travels took him to Nottingham for the annual cheese sniffing festival. Charles was enjoying a relaxing drink in an Inn when he was approached by a somewhat surly youth who asked if he would be interested in buying a motorbike for 7s 6d. After being assured that the bike had only had one previous owner and that the documents were in the post Charles became the somewhat dubious owner of the Ichabod II, which had been stolen from Melton Mowbray the previous year. Being a man of vision and wisdom Charles took one look at the Ichabod and realised that it was a bloody stupid idea. However, he could not shake a certain fascination with the concept and arranged to have the Ichabod transported to his home in Matlock Bath, Derbyshire. It is a tribute to his intelligence and foresight that he realised that trying to ride the thing home would be a certain death sentence. From the outset Charles knew that the motor bicycle was hindered by it's steam engine and made short work of removing it and placing a petrol engine into the frame. For unknown reasons whilst replacing the engine Charles also took it into his head to paint the whole contraption in a vile colour. It is possible that the strain of building the special machine upset Charles' mental health, as his wife reported him waking screaming one night demanding that she bring him "Elsie Engine and Gixer Forks". Not knowing any one of those names his wife simply clubbed him over the head with a warming pan and no more was said of the matter. Historians have long argued over why Norton overlooked the petrol engine for so long while Gainsborough, his contemporary, could not imagine the motorcycle without it. The reasons are, undoubtedly, long and complex and relate to the social standing of the two men and their personal world views - Norton was a penniless semi-illiterate while Gainsborough was a rich, well-educated man. Perhaps the reason is best summed up in Gainsborough's own words, taken from a letter to The Times in 1903, denying allegations that he had stolen Norton's work: "In summary, I am a respected and well-established inventor, holding more than three dozen patents, a man of taste and discretion with a keen eye for the future while Norton was a gibbering imbecile with even less mechanical aptitude than self-preservation skills." The new, petrol engine driven, motorbike was completed in the autumn of 1901. At that time engines were large and inefficient, so Gainsborough had been forced to use a 12½ litre engine just to get 11 horse power from his machine. Charles christen the machine the Charles Gainsborough 12.5 or CG125 for short.                                                                                                                                                                              

The above is shamelessy stolen from my friend Andrew R's scribblings, but I knew you'd appreciate it.                                                                                                                                                                              

Wesley's eyes scanned an enormous V-Twin scavenge pump propelled Hardly Dangerson SuperGlissade with shotgun pipes, smell me bars and independently sprung toolkit, a preposterous HireBooSir pocket rocket eggbeater with bikini fairing and bunny bracket, an elderly blast-cooled Trumpet Solo with enclosed oilbath and self priming choke and there, right in the middle of the whole shooting match, a Hispano Soeasily mistaken for a Dunkley Whippet and joy of joys the very same two-stage see-saw regulator, so all over red rover on the Whippet. Out with his talkwrench and an hour later the Dunkley Whippet coughed and spluttered into raucous life, ready for his grand day out...                                                                                                                                                                             

With a group of aging hippy tree huggers who had made a bug chilum out of a pair of Allspeeds  & the butterflys from an Elsie lump which was like far out man!! The intrepid group set off to the Jungles of Pannama for ..........                                                                                                                                                                             

a banana sunday with whipped cream, but as they was sitting on the beach enjoying their tasty treat overlooking the ocean they suddendly spotted a very large pink spotted............                                                                                                                                                                             

curfew creeper winding its way about the ancient oak in the glimmer of an eerie silence, as the fabulous furry freak bros passed the chilum left and the magic mushrooms right. There never was a time like nowhere now to dream of safety pins and goulash, just acres of recreation in the midday sun...

but this didnt stop one of them from contactin his lawyers bogeit an leggett,!about allegations of staffie abuse made by a Harley copycat rider of dubious character,study of original text reveals no negative comments about said staffies!only sayin one was for sale!a formal apologie would settle the matter,or several pints of Becks vier[not over my head!]as for the matter of bein a alcoholic jerk well at least i know what i am!!     !!                                                                                                                                                                             

Indeed he did, as numerous scientific studies had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt. 'Ples Kiipus Offte Grast' as the Roman's were wont to say...                                                                                                                                                                              

...and often did. Roughly translated as "Please keepus off the grasse". It was about this time that the multi millionaire inventor Sir Arassimus Prime Chorley Waterhouse Evans...or Taff the fuckugly spanner monkey to his closer freinds, Invented the concept of the self lubricating valve train. This then overnight put an estimated 34,000 valve oilers out of work and invariably back into the workhouses.   Along parallel lines Messers Hardly and Daffidson of Buith Wells designed thier first V-Twin engined "Motorized bicycle isintit", an endearing design which can still be seen in wide use amongst the dress like a gay pirate brigade although only on sunny weekends. These people also tend be permanently linked to mobile communications devices called blackberries;p yet actually have no "real world" friends.   Of course while the likes of Hardly,Daffidson and Arassimus were rapidly gaining reputations for inovative design.................                                                                                                                                                                                 

Dunkley Whippet were busy marketing a centripetal cylinder stuffer for their 750cc V-twin direct coupled perambulator. Enabling a 0-playskool run and back before the kettle had boiled. Unfortunately the same could not be said of the V-twin, which mounted behind the Pininfarina designed pram, glowed forge-red on full song, without in any way warming the privileged infant, nor doing itself any favours either, though surviving thanks to Whippet's ingenious use of common expansion coefficients for pistons and barrels. Nonetheless Wesley couldn't help being miffed at Hardly Daredson's blatant copying  of W. H. Dunckley's designs, purveyors of prams, rocking horses, see-saws, pedal tricycles, hobby-horse tricycles, mail carts, steam circuses & roundabouts (with organs complete), ploughs, harrows, tillers, loggers, conveyers, bailers and flailers since 1874, without acknowledging their forking out from hunter-gatherers along the farming branch of motorised mayhem, along with umpteen others. Many have opined the Neandertal Napier Beomoths died out rather than interbred during the ironage of Norton, BSA and their ilk. Though a swift glance around this day out and even Wesley could see Hardly Daredson and Porsche had been mixing something if not jeans. What they needed though, was a dash of italian ancestry, to gambol with the bats out of hell banshee rice-burners. Not too much mind, less reliability suffer catastrophically, desmodromic valve trains being only as timely as their drivetrains. That was it, thought Wesley, amidst the ultimate grand day out in the autojumble of life, at West Paradise Avenue, Eutopia South, just beyond the Pillars of Hercules. There was every conceivable device around in at least prototype configuration, to mix and match a la Asda, Tesco etc., and arrive at the pinnacle of two-wheel motorised conveyance. The uber ultimate, kosher pukka, multi-purpose immortal enduro, road or river bed, ever faithful, chuckable, flickable, dragable, wall climbing, ditch jumping, go anywhere motorsickle, of legendary myth...                                                                                                                                                                             

...The Dunkley Whippet Spunkulator 500 TT. First aired at the 1906 Gentlemans preambulatory cogitation and screen door exhibition where, replendant upon its plaster plinth it surely did look quite the dandy. Boasting such new technologies as "Gaskets" and "seals" this virtually (so the makers claimed) illiminated oil leakage down to two quarts per 100 miles. A marked improvement over the Rorton Notary motor bicycles and the Triumphant velocopede twin, both benchmarks of thier day. Indeed, Just the year before a young buck by the name of Gerald Cumstaine of 34 Flackton Gardens (of this parish) Set a new Chumlet to Trappingfold sprint record of 18hrs and 34s covering the unheard of distance of 34 miles for the round trip (less 5 mile detour to see his Aunt Rosie in Clappington). This amazing machine only using 12 gallons of fuel and 3.7 quarts of oil........a record that stood untill...................                                                                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                                                                                             

an they call me wierd!                                                                                                                                                                             

Well it is justified                                                                                                                                                                              

Oh centrally aligned softail or alibi for suspension. Go on tangoman, close the wastegate, ice the intercooler and ramp up the boost, you can do it, you can conjure up some weirdly appropriate machinery for a grand day out with Wesley and friends. You know you want to, pmsl...