False Widow Spiders Want To Kill Me!

False Widow Spiders Want To Kill Me!

It’s been a while since you had anything spidery from me, so let’s address it.

Over the last few years, whilst our newspapers were filled with horror stories about Deadly False Widow spiders invading the UK, I’ve been spotting them all over my house.

When mowing my lawn, I had a very suspicious bite on my arm, that looked very spidery, and itched for months, with the spread of the poison being visible over about half of my arm.

I’d seen a few small False Widows around the place, and figured they’re a bit runty compared to the House Spiders tromping around the place, so wasn’t too worried.  Yeah, they’re poisonous, but I didn’t die, and the press greatly exaggerate this kind of panic-inducing stuff.

Around 6 months ago I discovered a filthy great False Widow living in my garage.


I call him Nelson Mandela.

What the pictures don’t show, is that he is HUGE for one of these spiders!  They’re not actually supposed to grow this big – but Nelson Mandela wouldn’t fit on a £2 coin in his normal squat.

This sucker must have a Hell of a bite!

I don’t know if it was Nelson Mandela that bit me before, but he must be a good few years old, and has happily claimed that half of my garage.

And look how close he is to the light switch!

You don’t want to poke him in the eye whilst fumbling around in the dark for the switch!

There was also Maggie Thatcher, who lived in our kitchen for a while.  She was less than a 10th the size of Nelson Mandela, but you could still clearly see the markings.  Sadly, she seems to have been obliterated by my fiancee, who “will not have a Tory living in our house!”

After telling how I’d seen several others in our porch, I was warned that I should probably kill them, as finding one in my bike kit might not be a great experience… I was kind-of hoping they’d eat some of the -ing people who keep leaving charity clothes selection bags in there!

So, there I was this morning, backing my bike out the garage (kept well away from Nelson Mandela), when I caught a movement out the corner of my eye.

I moved my head to look, but the movement was still in the corner of my eye.  Hanging off the side of my open visor!

“NNnghh!!” I said bravely, throwing an inside right hook, just like I learned from watching “The Fighter”.  Mark Wahlberg hadn’t been balancing a motorbike at any point of that film, however, so never had to deal with 200kg of Kawasaki falling sideways on top of him.

The swinging False Widow – let’s call this one ‘Pol Pot’ – calmly held on as his path described a nice short arc in the morning air, swinging back in at eyeball level, fangs glinting in the sun.

I quickly flipped my visor down, severing any chances Pol Pot had of clambering up to fang my iris.

And all the while Nelson Mandela was sat in the far corner of the garage, bouncing in his web from what must have been a gust of wind, but may have been from his spidery chuckling.

I sense the war of terror has begun…


After writing this blog on my lunch break, I got home and discovered another large False Widow sat in my porch.  This one is called ‘Rasputin’, and must be catching some serious sun as he’s very dark-skinned.  Pray for me, people!

KFC Complaint Letter

KFC Complaint Letter


Dear Kentucky Fried Chicken,

After resisting temptation whilst everyone else flocked to the brand new KFC that opened in Bromsgrove in July, we finally decided to give it a go tonight.

We were very hungry, and so opted to use the Drive Thru, carefully selecting a nice easy choice of the most popular meals that would be fast and pretty-much impossible for – and forgive me for my language here – even the most useless of staff to cock up.

Two Flaming Zinger box meals. They each contain a Zinger Burger, fries, two spicy wings, and a drink and side order of our choosing. I know you SHOULD know the contents of your own box meals, but my need to clarify this will become apparent.

Knowing side orders and drinks can be tricky to get right, we each asked for the same – Pepsi and corn on the cob. Ok? Two Flaming Zinger box meals, each with Pepsi and corn on the cob. Nice and easy.

We thought we’d risk things further (and this may have pushed things over the edge), and asked for two lots of BBQ sauce. I was pretty surprised to be charged 10p each for these, considering how you charge 300% more for what is essentially a can of Pepsi, but let this go as I eagerly looked forward to getting something quick and simple to eat.

Arriving at the final window, we were given the Pepsi’s and told to park up in the Orange Bay and they would bring the food over shortly. All ok so far – a bit strange that we literally just got the drinks. We noted that we were not given straws at this point, but didn’t realise this would turn out to be the same kind of taunting undertaken by Joseph Mengele as he handed people a bar of soap as they went into the shower block.

We parked up and waited.

And waited.

Others were also directed to the bays, some complaining about their wait, and eventually Manuel brought out their food and they left. I refer to ‘Manuel’ – this may not be his actual name. I dub him Manuel not because he was from Barcelona, but because the poor young lad was scurrying back and forth as the sole person bringing angry customers their long awaited food like something out of Fawlty Towers. Also because he will undoubtedly be the one who gets beaten up by hypoglycaemic people waiting in those drive thru bays.

After we’d been there over 15 minutes one couple who had complained about their own wait pointed out that even they had arrived some time after us, before getting their food and driving off.

Part of me feels sorry for Manuel – but if this is his first job at least it will harden him to the world. After his shift tonight, if his next job is as a parking warden, prison officer, or crash test dummy at least he won’t be fazed by the hardships of it. He’ll always be scarred more by his experience working at KFC on this Saturday night.

I did plead with Manuel to get them to give us ‘free stuff’ after we’d been there for 25 minutes (he had been over to apologise several times), and he scurried back inside to try and get them to, you know, give us some of this promised ‘fast food’ and stuff.

I haven’t sat watching so many people enter and leave a building whilst sat motionless, bored, and starving in my car since I used to work in surveillance.

After 29 minutes – TWENTY NINE minutes!!!!!!! – I’d decided if Manuel brought out anyone else’s food but ours, I was going to beat him to death, take the food he was carrying, and demand a refund AND our food for free from the bunch of incompetent idiots inside. Luckily, this time (did I mention this was after 29 minutes, according to our receipt?) it was our food that he brought over.

We sped off home after glancing in the bag to make sure it had 2 boxes in there, and admittedly should have checked more thoroughly… Especially as we realised nobody had given us straws for the drinks. Too hungry to risk a fight at the drive thru window, we cut our losses and headed off.

Have you ever tried to drink a ‘fast food’ Pepsi without a straw? Go on – try it. Once you eventually manage to get enough ice out of the way to get a drop of Pepsi into your mouth, the ice freezes your teeth and gives you an instant headache. If ‘interrogation specialists’ have not yet discovered the values of this as a form of excruciating torture, you might want to market the idea to them.

Unpacking the food back at home, we noted straight away that our 20p worth of BBQ sauces were nowhere in sight. Sauces we bought, in the bag? No.

Opening the boxes, we found not corn on the cob, but some filthy great pots of gravy! I don’t know who even eats a pot of gravy with their fried chicken, but let’s just say we’d rather eat our own legs than order gravy as our ‘side dish’. I can see how you’d want to replace our near-healthy choice of vegetable with a pot of fat as the next best thing. They are a close fit. This is sarcasm, by the way.

Free stuff? Oh, no. We were not given even a solitary piece of chicken to try and compensate us for waiting longer than most of those chickens probably lived.

Then to REALLY rub it in, one of the spicy wings was about 2″ long. Seriously?! Was that little budgie wing deliberately selected by your staff who KNEW we’d been waiting for 29 minutes after deciding NOT to give us any free stuff??

Can you see my frustration, here?

As such, I’ve taken even more time out of my day in order to tell you about my KFC experience, and how, contrary to the slogan on the bag in the picture, it bloody well ISN’T ‘So good’!

It’s pretty damned poor!

So I’ll leave it for you to reply and tell us just what, exactly, you plan to do about it to put things right?

After the wait we had tonight, I won’t hold my breath…


Yours with much anger,


Nasty Evil Ninja




Complaint About Morrisons Lettuce

Complaint About Morrisons Lettuce

Dear Morrisons Customer Services

I should have written this months ago, when things started to get really bad, but after walking into your Bromsgrove store once again tonight on my weekly shop, I realised my comment of “Let’s get some mouldy lettuce!” should probably account for something.

Wheeling my trolley into the ‘green’ section, as per usual I looked down to find your finest array of iceburg lettuces.

Now, the picture may not do them justice, so to help you out in understanding my recurring dismay, please picture in your mind a herd of young snotty kids on a big grass field. This field, due to our recent weather, is very muddy. The kids are the rough sorts you know are never going to become Doctors or have a proper bath. It’s not that they can’t afford a football, but your finest organic iceburg lettuce is an absolute bargain at £1.30, so they’ve decided to use this as a football. They play for hours every day, the beautiful green lettuce bouncing around bringing tears of joy to their filthy little pre-borstal faces.

After around 6 months of this, they then return the finest organic Iceburg lettuce to your bromsgrove store, where it retains it’s £1.30 price tag.

And that’s where I find it. Every. Single. Week.

I’ve gone shopping on different days, just on the off-chance that you actually get all your fresh lettuces in the day after my normal shopping day, but they all still look like some tramp has rummaged through the bins to get them.

This one I bought tonight (seriously – this is the best one that I had to purchase), in case you are colour blind, is still partly green. Normally, I’d expect this would be the kind of ‘fresh’ produce a supermarket would throw in the bin, but not Morrisons Bromsgrove!

Oh, no!  This is still good!  To be fair even the usual ones with a few days left on them are as bad (this was taken on Monday 16th):

Good for what, I’m not entirely sure? Goal keeping practice for stigs?



Sure, I understand that the organic hippies are against anything that might preserve foods, but does this really mean that we can’t even BUY a damned lettuce that isn’t speckled with death from the start?

I’m pretty sure that even before supermarket chains had huge express distribution networks I used to be able to buy lettuce that was green at the start and might even last a whole week in the fridge?

And you charge us £1.30 for this mouldy bin-fodder?! OK, so not this time, as in your usual efforts to shift decaying food, you’ve dropped the price a whopping 30p!

Could you please explain to me why we should find this acceptable, and also why things have been this way and getting worse for at least the past 6 months?

Do you find all your lettuces in the local graveyard, amongst the old flowers next to the water tap?

If not, you may want to get your people to have a rummage through there, because I’ve seen much fresher produce composting away there!

I shall pack as much lettuce into a sandwich as I possibly can, after having binned 90% of your ‘fresh’ one to find some green – that way I might get that sweet lettucey taste just briefly before I have to throw it all away.

Please do something. This is about the only allegedly green thing I eat in my diet.

Yours faithfully,

Nasty Evil Ninja, aged 35 1/4


Well, not expecting any reply at all, 13 minutes flat from emailing the random CEO I found a contact for, he’s replied!  THIRTEEN bloody minutes!  So it looks like I’ll be getting my £1 refunded and some investivation done!

Getting Into A Huge Car Crash

Getting Into A Huge Car Crash

Car Crash Picture

This morning on my commute I very nearly totalled my car in a nasty way.

The dual carriageway from Bromsgrove to Redditch is full of braindead, selfish morons on the best of days. When they’re not driving at 50mph on one of the safest 70mph roads in existence, they’re sat in the overtaking lane refusing to move back to the left hand lane – adn sometimes they’re doing both of these together! Either way, they’re too busy doing fuck-knows-what to be aware of anybody around them or to LOOK before doing stupid stuff.

Crashes are frequent, although I’ve never witnessed one so have no idea just how they manage it.

Today I very nearly found out first hand…

At least one other morning this week I passed some big yellow steel heavy plant vehicle thingy, which was crawling along in the left hand lane doing, by my estimation, less than 20mph.

Of course, all the idiots don’t notice this until the last second, and everyone slams on their brakes and pulls quickly out into the overtaking lane without any thought for car travelling at high speed who have the right of way in that lane. I thought it looked very dangerous and wondered if it’s even legal to have something going that much slower without a Police escort or something?


Well this morning I was in that overtaking lane taking a somewhat treacherous left hand bend (past the infamous Cloverleaf junction, funnily enough) doing at least 70mph when brake lights of cars ahead started coming on.

Thanks to the kind of observation skills you only get from years of riding motorbikes, I saw this all nice and early and was already quite hard on the brakes expecting the couple of cars behind The Yellow Thing to swerve around it and cut me up.

The car immediatly behind The Yellow Thing as I approached seemed to have braked down to the same speed of The Yellow Thing (i.e. under 20mph) as I closed on them still on the brakes just in case… and then the retarded motherfucker pulled straight out in front of me, even though I could see he had a good few car-lengths gap to The Yellow Thing.

I slammed on the brakes still mid-corner as hard as I could, locking up as I tried to scrub off around 30-50mph in the very short distance he’d left me with, with the car slewing sideways on the brakes.

I still had control of the car even at this jaunty angle, but I remember thinking “There is absolutely nothing more I can do here” as I had to wait to see if I’d stop in time or I’d plough into the back of the car…

Thankfully, the Cock-Knuckle in the car then pulled back into the left hand lane, as he was blatantly doing less than The Yellow Thing even though he’d pulled out(!!?!), and I got off the brakes and got myself pointing in the right direction again.

Looking over at Cock-Knuckle as I passed, he did that thing where they stare directly ahead and don’t even dare to acknowledge your existence. THAT makes me want to rip their fucking throats out!


It’s the only time so far I’ve come close to crashing a car, and I have to say I’m accrediting that to the advanced driving I did as soon as I passed my test only a year and a half ago. I’m pretty happy sliding a car and getting it out of shape, and if I wasn’t then I think that one would have been me done-for! If you haven’t done it already GET YOURSELF BOOKED ONTO A SKID CONTROL COURSE!!! I can’t say it enough, because it will save your life!

Spending some time in a kart is also excellent practice and you can get it out of shape fairly safely so you get used to controling it.

As ever, it’s Sods Law that this was the one day I didn’t have the bloody camera running in the car – so unfortunately I can’t upload the video of it all. Hopefully I won’t ever get to repeat it, so you never will see it!

Afterwards, I thought about what would have happened had I been on the bike as I’d considered doing? Would I have been going faster? Could I have stopped as quickly without losing the front end (and bouncing over curbs into the oncoming traffic)?

Would I have tried going for the gap between Cock-Knuckle and The Yellow Thing and been taken out as Cock-Knuckle pulled back in?

What if someone had been behind me, if I’d been on either vehicle?

One thing I do know is that The Yellow Thing is going to cause a major accident…


England Should Ban Jaywalking!

England Should Ban Jaywalking!

Jaywalk –verb (used without object)
to cross a street at a place other than a regular crossing or in a heedless manner, as diagonally or against a traffic light.


Should we have it in the UK?

The ‘Merkins have a lot of stupid Laws – often only in one particular state.

California, for example, has a law that everyone must grow long hair and play Death or Thrash Metal.  And their wives are allowed to blow their heads off with shotguns when they get famous. Ohio has something in their Laws about crap US football teams and corn.  And serial killers are encouraged.

But much as it pains me to admit, one of their laws is just downright sensible – and that is the aforementioned ‘Jaywalking’.

If you go pottering across the road in New York, a big porker in a rain mac will shoot you dead.  You don’t even have to be Muslim!


In Bromsgrove Town Centre, UK, however, it seems to be perfectly acceptable to ignore the two pelican crossings which are around 50 yards apart, and go Ninjaing between the traffic regardless.

People seem to see this as fine, for the sake of saving a good three or four seconds of their life where they’d have to walk to one of the crossings… and then they get splatted by a filtering motorbike, sending all their bags of pound shop goodies flying through the air.

This has happened to a few people I know over the last few years.  There weren’t any real injuries, by some miracle, but the aftermath in one involved the stupid bints husband calling up my mate afterwards threatening him and trying to make him pay out compensation.

Compensation for your wife being a dipshit who couldn’t be *rsed to use one of the PEDESTRIAN crossings???

I’ve had a few near-misses myself when these idiots suddenly pop out between the cars, not looking and certainly not thinking.

I will tell you that if I ever hit one they better be dead, because I would beat the ever-loving shit out of them if I or my bike got damaged!

And that’s why it should be a crime in the UK.

Because it’s yet another thing that innocent people get punished for and end up paying out for, all because some retarded mouth-breather feels it’s everybody elses fault for them being a dick head.

Watch for around 2:20 into this video for a prime example:

Lickey Woods? Lick My FiveFingers!

Lickey Woods?  Lick My FiveFingers!

I was a bit disappointed to see it had rained overnight, but bravely slipped on my Vibram FiveFinger KSO’s and headed off to the Lickey Woods (near Lickey End *sniggers*) to give them a proper first try out.

One thing I noticed about them straight away is that having a much thinner sole than normal shoes and trainers, my jeans were too long for them!  They drag on the floor, and you can feel when you’re treading on them through the soles, too!  I could have worn shorts, but decided against it as it’s still only March here and in single-degrees-celsius, and more importantly you may have noticed from other pics my legs are so white it’s often been suggesting that it was the glare from them that sent Stevie Wonder blind.  Before I was born.

After having to nip into a local supermarket against my will I was surprised not to have people pointing at me and laughing.  I bought the black pair not because I want to look like a Ninja, nor did I buy them because I like the idea of wearing chopped-off gorillas feet over my own – but in the hope that they were a bit less noticeable.  It seems to have worked.

Which brings me to something else I was looking forward to trying:  Driving.

If you’ve ever tried driving a car in socks or barefoot, you’ll know that it -ing hurts.  I knew I was taking this chance with the FiveFingers, but to balance that was the knowledge that proper racing car footwear features very thin soles for extra feel.  Luckily, it seems the Vibrams have far more in common with the latter, and there was no sign of any discomfort at all on a short journey.  In fact I was amazed at the feel through them!  They’ve got to be the ultimate shoes for a racing driver – and it would make the whole skill of ‘Heel-and-toe’ much more literal!  Do they make a fireproof version?  If not, they’re missing a market!

It’s a shame they don’t also make a motorcycle boot version, because they’d feel brilliant, too.  I suppose from a crash protection point of view the toes wouldn’t be a great idea, though, and the strain on your left toe from the gear shift could become extremely uncomfortable…

I only walked around the Lickey Woods rather than running, but that was enough to tell me a lot of what to expect.

As I suspected before, big stones HURT.  If you get one in the arch of your foot in the middle next to the ball of your foot you know about it, and it would be a crippler if you were slamming your feet down at a run.  They’re not as bad as I thought they would be, though.

Loose gravel is like getting a foot massage, grass just feels sublime, and mud like walking on a waterbed!

Certainly, the softer ground is better, but I’m sure I’ll soon learn to watch more carefully where I put my feet to avoid the painful bits, and I’m sure my feet will also adapt and harden to it.

The extra stability really comes through on uneven ground, and where trainers would have thrown my balance off, my feet were able to fluidly mould to the ground just the way our feet evolved to do.  If you ever want a practical demonstration of the principles of Ninjitsu – you won’t find a much better example of it than here.  I wonder if Masaaki Hatsumi wears these?  I wonder if he endorses their use in Ninjutsu practise?

Vibram say in their literature that you should only wear FiveFingers for an hour or two at a time until your body adjusts to them.  On this outing I found my calves were starting to ache quite a lot, so I’m assuming this is related?

I have a problem when I run in trainers where I get muscle pump on the front of my lower legs, meaning although the rest of my body is still willing, I can hardly lift my foot anymore to take a step.  I’m hoping the FiveFingers will help relieve this.

I plan on wearing them to the gym tomorrow, where I should find out…

First Drive On The Snow

First Drive On The Snow

Having ridden bikes in the snow for the last ten years, and not having had any reason to take the car out in recent snows, I decided to make one up!

So, in order to do lots of ‘essential’ Christmas food/booze shopping, and with more heavy snow forecast overnight, I got to see what all the fuss and panic was about.

My garage is on a steep hill up a dirt track.  I figured I could probably get down the hill, but doubted I’d ever get back up.  So I dug out the garage door and went for it.

I was suprised by how much resistence deep snow offered to a car.  Reversing down the hill, where I expected it to roll back through it, I found I had to give it a bit of gas.  Other than that it was stable and did nothing silly.  I turned around at the bottom, engaged first gear, took a deep breath, and turned out onto the road…

And drove.  Nothing else happened.

I drove slower than normal, but to be honest didn’t really have to.  I did put into practice the theory of downshifting and using careful engine braking rather than touching the brakes wherever possible, and there were no dramas.  I was able to pull away with no wheelspin, and turn through corners without falling into hedges or running any kittens over.  Unlike everyone else, I kept a good gap to the car in front (notice to the ihabitatnts of the seal farm that is Bromsgrove: this does NOT mean 6″ away).

So I decided to provoke it.

From second gear I floored it and was chuffed to hear it spin up like a good ‘un!

You have to bear in mind I can’t condone this, but at the same time understand that the last time I drove it was to a skid control course.  I knew what to expect, and the little Fiat seems to have very predictable understeer, but with nice balance to it.

Locking the brakes made it slide straight on with slight squiggles if provoked further.  And it seemed to drift ok, too!

It’s quite amazing what you can do in a car and stay in control.  That much lack of traction on a bike would equal lots of airtime, groundtime and abulancetime.  I wasn’t anywhere near pushing it, and don’t intend to on the roads.

In short, it was exactly what I needed, and allowed me to safely explore the limits of the car at slow speeds and on some empty roads.

Oh, and my 1 litre snorting Italian beast on its skinny tyres also seemed to be one of the fastest accelerating cars on the roads for once!

The fun ended when I found there was no way in Hell the Fiat was going back up that hill to the garage, though… Ah well!

Snow driving is snow- oops I mean IS NO trouble at all – providing you just leave yourself a load of space to do it safely!  Look and plan well ahead, and it’s a lot of fun!

Keep it safe out there you kids – and if you haven’t already GET SOME BLOODY ADVANCED DRIVER TRAINING!  It will give you the confidence to laugh at all the other muppets out there!

There’s also a video of some in-car action and ranting.