What a Cnut.

I got up early this morning as the sun had me from my slumber at the devilishly early hour of 6am. By 6:30am I was washed, dressed and downstairs warming up the Vespa for a drive in Edinburgh and its surroundings. Nine and a half hours later I returned home and pulled my helmet off to discover that I've got sunburn. Not normal sunburn. Oh no. I've got what should be termed Biker-Burn or something similar to allow you all to picture the kind of sunburn you'd get if the only part of you exposed to the suns rays is the part of your face that is behind the visor of your helmet. There's a bright red oval stretching from the top of my eyebrows to the bottom of my nose and from one temple to the other. I look like some kind of albino Aztec Indian. All I need now is a bone through my nose, a hat that would make Carmen Miranda shit a brick and a CD wedged in my bottom lip and the look would be complete.

I stumbled across a book I thought I'd lost. If my memory serves me correctly, which it usually does, I'm sure I was given it by a woman named Kari who drank in the same pub I did many years ago as she thought I should read it. The book is called The Mentor Book of Major British Poets and contains a veritable cornucopia of works by major British poets. (You probably guessed that from the title. You lot are clever like that.) Anyhoo... I stumbled across this book while looking for something to read in the bath last night and was absolutely over the moon when I saw it's tattered and frayed cover poking out from behind a copy of Ten Thousand Sorrows by Elizabeth Kim . Is it just me or does that last paragraph make me sound a bit gay? If it does please ignore it. Or I'll come round to your house and punch you in the head. (Unless you're a woman, in which case I'll use my amazing powers of seduction and have your pants off and be swinging from your light fixings in ...

Here it is folks, the picture you've all been waiting for... My Vespa.

It's that time of the year when you guys get to see what motor racing is all about. The Moto GP race is being run at Laguna Seca this weekend and I highly recommend that you tune in to see it. And tomorrow you had better tune into WOKQ radio to hear Bigstar tell the world about her Chasing Chesney adventure. For Moto GP information click here . For Live streaming of WOKQ and Bigstar click here .

But there are times that I love my brother. Times like today when he kindly loaned me (roughly) 200 DVD's.

9:45 to be precise. Which, believe me, is very early for me. And why was I up at this ungodly hour? Well, mainly because my friend was working and I was popping up to his work clean my scooter. Steff works as a car valet for a large car company here in Edinburgh and he kindly offered me the use of their facilities, chemicals and jet wash to do the deed. So just before 10am I whipped on my skid lid and headed up to Sighthill. I'd cleaned all the junk out of the glove box (My scooter has a glove box, how cool is that?) and sorted out all the rubbish contained within before setting off so I'd have less to do when I got there. (For the reason that if the big bosses turned up I'd be less likely to get caught nicking their gear to do my scoot.) It took just under an hour to have the Vespa shining like a new pin. I've never actually seen a new pin so that comparison is based purely on rumour, which as we all know can be a dangerous thing... (I once heard a rumour that the head...

New Hampshiristas, New Hampshireburghers... Whatever the hell you lot from New Hampshire call yourselves... May I have your attention please. Everyday next week your local airwaves are to be graced, and I do mean graced, by the presence of none other than my friend Bigstar who will be on in the morning covering her road trip to see Kenny Chesney in concert for the WOKQ radio station. So if you're stuck for something to do early next week why not have a listen by clicking here . (If you'd like to know how much Bigstar loves Mr Kenny Chesney click here and take a look into the mind of his number one fan.)

Emitting from the cupboard at the end of the hall. I tried to open the door and realised that it was locked so I went to the kitchen and retrieved the key from the drawer. Slipping the key into the lock I discovered that there was some kind of force trying to prevent me opening the door. Whenever I tried to turn the key the force worked against me with a strength that caused me to think that there was something inside the cupboard that was as determined to keep me out as I was to get in. "What the fuck?" I thought. I went back into the kitchen and got my toolbox from the cupboard underneath the sink and carried it to the hall cupboard door. Popping open the toolbox I spotted what I needed, a pair of mole grips and a can of motorcycle chain lubricant. I removed the key from the lock and slid the small plastic tube applicator of the lubricant can into the lock and gave it a squirt. Sliding the key back into the lock and gripping it with the mole grips I used all my strength and...

Hair gel - £1.50 Time spent ironing my shirt - 10 Minutes. Getting told I can't attend my Sister in Laws birthday party - A bit of a bummer. Googling the words Peter Ramsey Bainfield Bowling club and reading the second result - Priceless ...

I should have bought the mixed leaves salad and the garlic bread thang when I popped into ASDA late last night. And why? Well, because for the last 5 hours and seven minutes I've lay in my bed with a stomach ache. On the plus side though I spent the time reading Peter Kay's autobiography " The Sound of Laughter ."

I get a hankering for something different to munch on. (My usual diet consists of enough fast food to give a rhinoceros a heart attack.) So tonight I hied up to the local ASDA (Walmart to my American readers) and went food shopping. I strolled through the deli aisle where my eye was caught by a rather scrummy looking mixed leaves salad with feta cheese and walnuts. That's the bugger for me I thought and deposited it in the basket. Into the bread/cake aisle I went where I got a Garlic and herb topped twisty loaf thing that you bake in the oven. Then I made the fatal mistake of walking through the frozen dessert aisle. Right in front of my eyes were six packs of cornetto ice creams on special offer. Two boxes for £3. (Quick question; If ASDA keeps rolling back prices as they claim in their ad's how come nothing is free?) Needless to say the healthy option went south quicker than a hooker during the Catholic seminaries visit to town, and the salad and garlicky bread were dumped in...

On Saturday night . My nephew has posted this about the man who has so little spine he wouldn't answer an eight year old's question and instead told him to "Go away you silly wee bugger." That's low in my opinion. And, if I might add, hardly the actions of a man suited for the presidency of anywhere. And to think I got sacked for labelling the committee a bunch of power mad fuckwits... Oh the irony. * Stuart also posted this .

I wish I lived in a city that never sleeps. A city where sparks of life can be found at all times of the day or night. You know the kind of place I mean no doubt. A place like New York, Rio or Tokyo. But I don't. I live in Edinburgh. But that's not to say that you can't experience international cuisine at a relatively late time of night. At 10:30 tonight I had a hankering for something different. Something new(ish), something exotic, something off the normal beaten path for me. So I jumped onto the scooter and headed into Haymarket to the Sushiya Sushi Bar. Sushiya wouldn't look out of place on a New York side street and I wouldn't have been surprised if a group of New Yorkers had walked in and announced that they were off to Studio 54 and wanted to sample the finest sushi in the city beforehand. Sushiya may not be the biggest restaurant in Edinburgh but if style and substance counted for anything this place would be off the map of coolness. I sat with my back to th...

Is a great way to get rid of stress. Whoops, hang on, that doesn't sound quite right... That sounds like I'm advocating jerking off as a way to rid yourself of tension. It does, but that's not the point I'm trying to make here so we'll drop it here before it gets out of hand... What I mean to say is that pulling on a crash helmet and going for a drive along familiar roads is a good way to blow the cobwebs out of your mind. And this is exactly what I did yesterday when I hopped onto my Vespa and headed out of Edinburgh towards Dunbar . As I left the outskirts of Edinburgh and approached my old haunting grounds of Musselburgh I gave a thought to the many happy times I'd spent in and around Musselburgh with friends and lovers long lost in the mists of time. I've some very happy memories of days spent in Musselburgh with my ex girlfriend Katy and her family but I didn't dwell on them too long as I passed the bench where Katy and I went our separate ways many...

Was the night of a party to celebrate my Sister in Law's 40th birthday. So you'd think that this morning I'd be suffering from a massive hangover (as is the usual state of affairs when I go to a party. For examples see this post , this post or this post ) but this time this is not the case. "Holy shit!" I hear you exclaim. "Has Ross finally defeated his demons and gave up boozing and drugging?" Well, not really. Allow me to explain... At 7:30 I arrived on Hutchinson Crossway and headed towards my former workplace. I walked along the car park and strolled past the bowling green where a game was being watched by about a dozen members of the club. The members sat at the side of the green said hi to me and I passed a couple of minutes talking to them and catching up on how life was treating them. After chewing the fat for a wee while I headed into the club via the backdoor, as I'm technically banned from the club but know that this doesn't effect pr...

Today I watched the strangest movie I've ever seen. Bad Boy Bubby . (Imdb link) If you are easily offended please, in the name of the Grand Whazoo, never watch this movie.

Putting yourself into debt to force you to get off your arse and get a job. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what I did about an hour ago when I borrowed £800 off my dad to buy a Vespa .