Thursday 1 January 2009

I never make a New Year's resolution

I gave up making them about 20 years ago, realising that they were a waste of time and effort. I made a resolution one year to never make another resolution, and until now, that has stood me in good stead.

Until this morning.

I decided to go for an early morning ride. Not because I want to be fitter and leaner this year, but because there was a mosquito buzzing around my head at 6.30am and I couldn't get back to sleep.

My ride lasted all of 10 minutes.

The bloody rear gears kept jumping up and down and wouldn't hold in the selected gear. I persevered for a bit, fiddled with them, and then gave up and came home in disgust.

So I have a resolution - clean and maintain the bike more regularly, since that is what I am going to have to do this morning.

Damn and blast. I hope the rest of the year won't be like this.

During that short ride though, I saw plenty of detritus from last night. There are some good vantage points on the water around here for watching the fireworks, and each one was knee deep in rubbish. I passed a garbage truck that was out picking up the mess, and even a council bloke cleaning BBQ's. I'd never thought of that, but I guess a lot of people would find a spot, have a BBQ dinner and then watch the fireworks. The leftovers of a 1000 sausages on a BBQ would not be a pretty sight.

I made it as far as one boat ramp, and there were more cars and trailers in the car park than I've ever seen before. It took me a moment to work it out, but I figure that those people decided to sleep on their boats last night after the fireworks, rather than haul them out of the water at 2am and then drive home. I also went past one bloke sleeping in his car. Ugh. Haven't done that in years, but I remember well the horror of waking up just after dawn, mouth feeling like the insides of an old shoe, sweating from the lack of fresh air in the car, head pounding and every joint aching from being curled up in the back seat.

And then there were the women stumbling home, falling out of taxis, or stumbling along the roadside in short skirts and barefoot, shoes in hand, trying to call a taxi. All looked much the worse for wear.

What is it with young chicks where fat ones try to dress like skinny ones? I swear I saw a few that were the size of Oprah at her worst, but dressed like Paris Hilton. It really isn't a good look - being fat and looking stupid.

All they were lacking was the obligatory kebab in hand.

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