jonjarrold.co.uk

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

This weekend Bad Boi got himself a new ride. On Saturday we hit Mousehold. On Sunday we hit Thetford. On Monday we hit the local cricket ground. It was here that Adam attempted his most difficult jump,with a drop off of over 5ft (which I had just nailed!). The take off was good, but he lacked speed on the run up. As he sailed over the raised wall,his rear wheel clipped the edge when he dropped too early. With such a big drop,despite having his weight back, his Specialized P All Mountain ‘07 had plenty of time to rotate forwards,sending Adam head first into the ground. As his front wheel hit,the handle bar twisted,forcing the handle bar end into his groin. His head struck the ground with force and the bike continued to rotate and the chain ring cut through his jeans into his thigh. He laid still on the ground as we rallied round him. After a few minutes he stood up and examined the pain he felt in his groin to discover the initial grotesqueness of his injuries. DJ confirmed the presence of blood and recommended a trip to A and E. He’ll be ok.

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

That is all!

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

It’s Easter Day. What better way to spend it than on our brilliant bikes around Thetford!

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

…have an Easter egg!

What is that about, exactly?  Someone is bound to fill me in by leaving a comment on this post.  Not that they should need to, because I should really know the signifance of them (the easter eggs) and if I didn’t, the Internet is my friend and it shouldn’t take me too long to find out.  But it’s late and I can’t remember and I can’t be bothered to search.

I’m not sure that’s what this post is about, anyway.  It’s more about the chocolate.  I eat too much.  There!  I’ve said it.  I eat too much chocolate.  I need to eat less chocolate.  I couldn’t even tell you how many chocolate easter eggs I’ve eaten over the past few weeks…pretty much since Sainsbury’s started stocking them for this year’s big Easter event.  I feel guilty at the thought of it, and fat, and in need of a nice cold glass of water.

So, first off, I need to stop buying so much chocolate, and then I can start eating less of that which I have bought.   Easily said, people…easily said.  But, it must be done!  Summer is just around the corner and if I’m going to maintain my reputation has a hunky hunkstar, the chocolate has to go and the weights and situps and push ups and all that stuff has to come back in.

My housemate finally got his weights bench back out of the cupboard.  It’s been hiding in there for quite some time.  I don’t blame him for putting it away in the first place.  It was taking up a lot of room, and he could just as easily dry his bath towel on the banister on the landing, which is all he used the bench for anyway.  So, out of his room and into his cupboard it went.  But now it’s back, and I’ve honestly not seen a single towel being dried on it.  That’s due, in part, to the fact that he’s also recently purchased himself some Egyptian cotton towels.  They deserve better!  Anyway, my point is that if he can do, so can I…and together, as a house, we are more likely to suceed.  That’s a good plan, no?!

I hope to update you with my progress later in the year, providing my fingers haven’t got so fat that they stop me typing!

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

Thanks bro!

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

…but he’ll be playing with the rest of his band at The Queen Charlotte on April 9th. You should be there!

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

…and he does them well!

—- 
Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone