Stupid gags aside, onwards with the actual narrative of the day...
It was back to work for yours truly today - boo! My chosen workplace was full to brimming with the usual once-a-year-traveller-with-not-the faintest-idea-of-what-a-train-even-looks-like mob; the brain retrieval unit above the automatic doors into the station concourse was working well as nary a single member of the great British public appeared to have a spare cell when asking questions of us harried ticket clerks.
Again, though I digress. Back to work meant an early ride into town and, surprisingly (considering the hour), I was accompanied by young Depitty Dawg who got dropped off at his sister's pad to help with her move to northern climes.
After doing lots of humping boxes about and sticking stuff into chests, The Depitty made his way to Southway and finally picked up his dream machine (sadly without large bottom aboard) and rode back to Millbrooker Towers, whereupon Mrs The Millbrooker immediately insisted on recording the moment for posterity:Yep - he's got his SV650 and has now departed with its manly throb between his legs for Newquay where he'll be seeing in the New Year amongst his like minded friends.
So - should you be overtaken by a yellow thingy with a pilot encased in camouflage-patterned amoured kit, give him a wave; it's quite possibly young Depitty Dawg. Your view is likely to be a little bit like this: