Twist, push, wiggle, shit, turn you git

No people, its not not my new dance,ha ha ha, its actually a sex technique the ancient vikings taught me many a year ago on how to woo your lady friend. I have modified it a little since then and added my own 'coffee', 'fag' and 'not now I am watching footy.'

But I guess one could relate it to the short relationship I had with a couple of my nuts. For those of you who have a child, you will know what this feels like once you do. But anyways, finally they came out, never thought something so tiny could be so stiff. (Oi oi, steady now)

Let me take a pause and introduce you to my friend, Marge the Mole Grip, A handy little lass, as with all females all they need to get them into action is a pinch on the arse, simple place Marge over the stuck nut, grab hold of her arse, and squeeze. Her claws will grab that nut as tight as a Scotsman would grab his last penny.



So with the nuts giving a little movement it was only a matter of seconds before all the screwing was over. Out my nuts popped. Time for a fag. (well if I smoked I would). So a slice of chocolate cake will have to do.

So with that out the way all that was left to do was to fit the new manifold. And here it is, in all its glory. I fitted the carb and air filter on just to make it look more impressive.

Not bad for a couple of days work, I only hope it doesnt last that long every time I have a problem with my nuts.

Quick clean

So then, the day has come, we are under starters orders, new carb has been delivered along with new manifold and new airbox. Tool box... check, gloves... check, rags.... check, what to do.... check, dad at hand so that there is at least someone present who knows what the pants they are doing.... check, take engine out to make room for carb removal, check. And... Cant even see the dam thing under 40 years or crap. So before anything, a quick call to the missus to clean the engine. (well I dont want to ruin my nails, i just got them done for the big Bond Premier).

So here are a couple of pics of the engine just to give you an idea of what we are up against. A little clean is all it needs right now just so that I can see what I am doing. The big clean comes later.

After the clean we were able to remove the old manifold. Off that came and in order to fit the new manifold we had to remove two stud nuts. Jesus, if god wanted to piss me off then he did a good job. I have met many stubborn things in my life, myself being one, my girlfriend being another, and a few suspect stains after a night long party in Catalunia a couple of years ago, (you know what I am on about Chris and Tim). Anyway, after trying a few methods and excerpting the power of the Squires they just wouldnt budge. Both men, well one man and my dad, tired, thirsty, no food for at least an hour, left for a long walk up the stairs of shame. Tomorrow we will try the MOLE GRIPS!!!

She aint no Mona

So here she is, this is how I bought her and she only cost me one lung, and as I am sure most of you know, its a great bargain as neither of them work properly. 

So let me tell you a bit about her. Given birth to in 1968 by an Italian Aprilian nun and bought up nothing but semi skimmed milk would answer the question to why she only has a 50cc engine. She packs as much power as an ant on Viagra. Her kick start snapped off, the foot panels have a couple of holes, the carburetor was buggered and the breaks are a little soft, everything you would expect for a woman of that age. But she does come with a bit of original makeup, some nice racks, and overall, with 8 pints of Stella and a couple of shots of Bourbon she looks like a top class model. 

I am told that the carb is the problem, basically ladies, to put it simply, this is your husbands wallet, and in order for you to get it to work you need to pump money through it, in this case the fuel. No money, no go. So that will be my first task. Laters.  

Wel cum wel cum wel cum

Hello and welcome all to my Vespa blog. Here you may share the trials and tribulations, the falls and the rise, the scratches and the sweat, the blood and the dust mites, the battle between man and machine, of one hero, one scooter, a newly purchased set of shiney tools, and the will of a hundred Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders. A journey that will make Lord of the Rings look like a trip to the toilet after a Chicken Vindaloo, the passion, enough to spread throughout the land and bring England to its greater glory that once we knew, where knights were galant, where damsons were less ugly than the average girl from east London and where dragons were the tyrants we now know as Sunday Drivers. To finally arrive at my goal, a goal that far outweighs the success of the 1966 world cup, a goal that sees David not just kill, but absolutely batter the F***K out of Goliath, and goal, that is inevitably...... to get the damn thing started. 

Join me good people, and share my glory, TO ARMS my men, to sewing machines and dishwashers my women, .... hi ho silver.... AWAY!!!!