jonjarrold.co.uk

Beat that, boys and girls!!

…I will be back one day and you will all love me for it!

Okay, this will look like a slightly odd post to most of you, but that’s just because it’s not for most of you. Sorry!

Gary,

This photo is of a 1997 VW Polo 1.4 16V, only it’s got a different setup under the hood compared to my one….and it’s green!

On the battery, is that the thing you were talking about? From what I’ve read on various sites, I think it is. Well, unfortunately, mine doesn’t have that! So, I think it’s the pump that needs replacing. However, I think that £97 I got quoted for was for the controller, and not the pump. I think they’re different, but I’m not sure.

Also, having looked at some DIY step-by-step guides to removing/replacing, it may well be out of my expertise!

Ok, here’s a joke for you all.

Q: How many police cars does it take to deal with an emergency call regarding some idiots who threw a full can of beer out of a car window at speed at a pedestrian?

A: Norfolk Constabulary!

Is that funny? I’m not sure it is. The actual answer is five. I’ll leave my joke in here anyway, because it seems slightly funny to me. It is late though. I’ve been watching Family Guy. I like Family Guy a lot, but I prefer to watch it when I’m awake and not when I’m falling asleep on the couch of someone’s house for the sole reason of waiting for the police to turn up to take statements, as they said they would do!

Yes, drunken crime has fallen in Norwich if you believe what you read in the papers. That said, I was in the papers when I got shot in the butt with a paintball gun whilst cycling, and that cannot have happened….surely! One of these statements is false, and my butt still has a bruise on it!

Tonight was great. Tonight was about Uganda. Tonight was about ‘the kids’. What tonight ended up being about was the idiots in a car that thought it would be funny to hurl a full can of beer at my brother, which hit him in the back. It then became about me doing the ‘hero’ thing again and chasing after them on my trusty 9-speed, stopping them at the traffic lights, and asking them to get out of the car. Sound familiar!?! Strangely so, huh!?! I know!

The victim was the other me; DJ. The van was a car. The five men and two dogs were two men and one dog (sorry, female solicitor, innit!). The gun was an arm. The paintball was a can of Fosters. The red traffic lights at the end of Dereham Road were the red traffic lights not quite so far down the road, which was a good thing because it meant we had less of a chase on our hands. Oh, and I wasn’t alone. This time I had backup. My reliable sidekicks in the form of Kit and DJ were right behind me (cheers, guys!)

There was no jumping on the bonnet or being run down. Two bikes are a better obstacle that one and the 206 wasn’t getting away easily. They wanted trouble, but we didn’t give it to them. We stood our ground, phoned the police and kept them talking until one two three four five police cars turned up. If each police car was carrying two police officers and five police cars turned up, what can they do about three witnesses to a drive-by-drink-throwing-incident who managed to stop the perpetrators getting away? Not as much as you’d think…or would hope! I’m sure it was only by being insistent that anything actually happened and one guy was taken away. Now we wait. We wait, because Norfolk Constabulary often say they’ll be there when they won’t be. They’ll tell you it’ll be five minutes and you’ll wait for an hour. They should give you a reference number, but they don’t, because of something.

The important thing is that DJ is okay. Kit is ok. I am okay. The next important thing that needs to happen is the police taking this seriously. Okay, so it was just a beer can…but I’m sure it still hurt, and it could have been worse and it could have hit someone in the face and it could have blinded someone. That’s what the police need to think about. I will be pushing this one as far as I can, seeing as every other time I’ve needed the police it hasn’t really come good.

Norwich is not a safe place. I’m neglecting to mention that since being shot and head-butted, we’ve had another bike stolen and another beating! Case closed, case ongoing, case closed, case closed. I think that’s how they’ve been going!

P.S. Tattoo’d Cow sounded awesome tonight. The Slings played a blinder too! There was even an acoustic set by Gaz, so nice work there. Hope you got home safely and quicker than it took to get here!

P.P.S. I’m off to hide under the covers. I don’t mean I’m going to hide my other band. They’re hard enough to find all at the same time on a good day. Nope, my bed is a safe place. My bed is a safe place. My bed is a safe place.

This year, the Squirlies (Amy & Gem) have gone the extra mile with our ‘happy birthday’ banner. If you check out my post on this website almost a year ago, you will see that, although impressive, they only climbed onto a balcony to display their best wishes in pen-on-paper form! This year, the message comes from the top of the Sky Tower in Auckland!

Thanks guys!

Yup, today I am celebrating my birthday with my twin brother, DJ. I am twenty six. He is also twenty six. It’s as if he’s copying me or something. I’m not actually celebrating it with him right now, because I planned ahead and booked the day off work, but everyone else I know, including DJ, did not follow my lead. Basically, I’m home alone…which is a good thing because I can sign for any big parcels! There will be big parcels, right?!

In addition to the banner in New Zealand, I’ve had lots of texts and messages on my facebook wall. Thank you to everyone!

I wonder what the girls will do next year!

The two talented young chaps have finally written some material together.

Very good stuff too.

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

Do you want ketchup with that?

Originally uploaded by jonjarrold
This is me after picking myself up from the floor following a head butt to the face. I wasn’t expecting it.

I’d love to say “but you should see the other guy.” Only…I’m not a violent person and he ran off with his mates before anyone could stop him.

It’s ok though,because we phoned the police straight away,so any day now I’m expecting a ‘Victim Support’ leaflet through the door. I’ll have to fill you all in on the details later.

All you need to know is that myself and Bad Boi are ok. I’ve got a fat lip. He’s got a black eye. We’re sat in our second home…A&E. I think we’ve been here an hour or three.

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

…Cyclist hit by paintball pellet, as printed in the Evening News 24 on Monday, May 28th 2007.

I woke up to the voice of Chris Moyles. It was 08.17. I was on the left hand side of my bed as I lay in it. I was running late. Everything was normal for a Tuesday. I got up and got to work on my hairstyle. It’s big at the moment, and waking up late is not a good way to keep it all under control. Hair done! No time for breakfast. Just time for the teeth to say good morning to the toothbrush. They get on so well, despite the big gap at the front which looks daunting to a toothbrush!

I got to work late. Sorry, boss. This is normal, however, and I don’t make too big a deal about it. I should try harder to get to work on time. Note to self. On my way into the building there is a queue of equally late people. As I swipe my card to get into the building, the green light tells me it’s safe to enter the revolving doors. Oddly, a woman has been employed today to confirm that green means go. I go. BEEP…BEEP…BEEP…..Ouch! The doors stop. This is normal…for me. My card is fine. It’s valid. It works. I’ve been told it’s good to go. Green says go. A woman and the colour green tell me it’s good to go. But the door disagrees. I didn’t break my nose, but it’s just a matter of time.

Work is work. I worked hard today. The office was quiet and I feel I got quite a lot done. I head off shortly after 5pm. See…late in, late out! I’ve got somewhere to be. I’ve been invited to go to Woodfordes Brewery for a tour. Kev, the main man at the QC, has invited me. He’s a top bloke. It’s a beautiful afternoon and this calls for a cycle ride to the QC where the mini bus will be waiting to take us on our merry way. I get there. So far, so good. On a scale of one to ten, this is a green day!

The brewery tour was excellent. Not as glitzy as the Guinness Factory, but Roger gives a great talk the whole way round and it’s very interesting…with free beer! Sundew is good. Kevin will be getting it into the QC soon!

Back in Norwich we decide to have a beer whilst listening to Lee Vasey. After that, it’s time for food and MacDonalds is waiting to serve us up some highly salty burgers before closing. Kit does the honours by driving too and from the Maccy D’s. He drops me off at my bike at the QC so I can cycle home. I’m looking forward to it. My cranks are tight and my lights and shining. I set off on my merry way.

Before I’ve gone too far I hear a noise. Have a dropped something? No. It’s the side of a van opening as it travels along Dereham Road behind me. Bang…Bang…Bang. What the f*ck is going on? I duck my head as I feel something hit me. I’ve been shot! Not only has someone just shot at me. They’ve bloody well shot me…in the buttock. Initially, I’m not sure what I’ve been shot with. I don’t get shot that often, so I can’t be sure. I put my hand to wear the pain is and feel something wet. Blood? Nope, paint. Not Dulux though. It’s more of a gel. A bit like Liquitabs, or whatever those space capsules are that make my clothes clean. Yes, it was just a paint gun, but it bloody well hurt.

Let us stop, just for one moment. Four nights previously, I’m cycling home from the QC. I’ve been to a charity night there. I’m not that far from home when…BAM…I get taken out by a milkshake…and a bloody strawberry one at that! A bunch of idiots have driven towards me at about 30mph and launched a missile (because that’s effectively what it is) at me from the window. It hits me in the chest and covers my entire right-hand-side in sticky strawberry milkshake. It takes me some time to figure out what’s just happened. I set chase, but lose them almost immediately. If I had caught them, I would have had stern words!

Back to the present, but this time, I’m onto them a lot quicker. I’ve got no registration number. Another car has already gone passed. I compose myself a bit and then pedal as fast as I can after the van. I know it’s white. I can see it’s rear lights. I know there are traffic lights all along this road. I might get lucky. The first ones are green and I lose distance. The second ones are red and I catch up, but they’re still shooting out of the van and I have to move out of sight to stay safe. They pull away because the lights change. The next ones at the end of the road, at the big junction, are red. I know I can get there. I speed passed the van and skid around the front of it, leaning my bike against the front of the van. I bang on the front and ask the driver what the hell is going on and to wind his window down. He refuses. I phone the police.

He starts to drive towards me and I do what I can to push the van back. He knocks my bike down. I hold my ground. I’ve dialed 999. He starts to reverse. He goes around my bike. I’m now clinging to the windscreen wipers as I edge back under the force of the van. I confirm my number. I shout out in pain as he picks up speed and I start getting dragged under the van. I’m holding on with my left hand to keep my feet off the ground as I explain that I’ve just been shot, that I need the police, and that I’m attached to the front of a moving van that is trying to run me down. He picks up speed and I yell out again as my feet catch the concrete. He panics and brakes. I lose my grip on the van. The men in the back bundle out with their dogs and hurl abuse at me. I’m not scared. I’m on the phone to the police. I fall away from the van and he speeds off.

I’m in shock. There are witnesses. They stop and help me. I’m shaking. I’m cut and bruised but I don’t know how badly. The police arrive. The paramedics drive by. A fire engine turns up, but it’s just filling up with petrol. An ambulance is called. They attach me to a machine and tell me that my pulse is fast and my blood pressure is above normal, but to be expected after such an event. I’m okay to go home.

I sure as hell hope the dude on the phone at the switchboard wrote that registration number down correctly!

Everyone involved were great, apart from the shooters and the getaway driver. Oh, and the dude who threw my bike over a wall could have been a bit more gentle, but at least he stopped it from getting run down by a car!

I’ll be alright. It could have been worse. I can still be a dad!

Car paintball pair admit attack (this happened last year in Carlisle)
Drive-by paintball shooting blinds woman (again…nothing to do with my incident)

Here we all are to celebrate Cherie’s 18th birthday. I’m the one with the gap in the teeth!

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone