FastFreddy2

I think something from that genre (or genesis). Moroccan or Marrakesh may have been mentioned, but it meant nothing to me. Fortunately, the sum of my experience leaves me with a gaping innocence of such things, and I'm happy to keep it that way. Not everyone in my social circle escaped so easily. A good friend I had lost touch with got himself hooked on stronger stuff, and got into quite a bad way with drug abuse. It surprised many of us, since he was a decent lad, brought up well in a family that loved him, and who he loved back. He's no longer with us sadly, but his demise was nothing to do with drugs. His girlfriend (who I never met) got him 'clean'. I met him in our local supermarket after that time, and he was on his way back into his old life. I was happy to see him, and it brought me great pleasure he had help and support in restarting his life. Not long after, he had an accident while walking home, and died from his injury. No-one else was involved. I found out about this after he had passed and been buried. (I will never forgive our mutual friend for not telling me. Some 20+ years later, I am still angry about missing the funeral.) I'm guessing there would have been times when his family were upset by his addiction. I'm also sure they would have been proud he got the other side of it, and got himself a partner who loved him as they did. It must have broken their hearts to lose him a second time. R.I.P. Graham, you were a good man.

Although I will almost certainly never wear them, I found a pair in my size, or at least an EU41 which Office suggest is a UK8. It isn't, more like a UK7, and a slim one at that. Since my feet seem to reshape themselves, I can wear these. Walking in them, that's something else. Was an amusing situation when I bought them. Unusually, I was in flats (trainers). They had been put by for me, and the store was busy, which meant I had to queue, and there were people behind me the whole time of the purchase procedure. The shoes were collected form the storage area. The pretty assistant waved them past me to make sure they were the right ones (I had asked her for a ladies court I had put by) and with my confirmation scanned the box. "£72 please." "Er, no. £38." was my reply. I was then asked to show her the online price, which I did. (£38). She asked her supervisor, what she did next, and after confirming it was the same shoe, and I had the right price, I got them at £38. Neither of the two girls knew of the discounted price, and they both gave each other a 'shocked' look. Given the height of the girls, I would not have been surprised if the shoe would have fitted them, and they would liked to have bought the same shoe at the price I had paid. The look they gave each other, was definitely a "grrrr" moment. The really good news for me, they might have been out of the box, but have not even been tried on. No "sale" sticker of price sticker residue either. If I decide to sell, they don't look like they've been languishing around a sale rack, or spoiled from having 20 or 200 people try them on. Yay! The size 8 (EU41) I have here, come with a 130mm heel!

While I'm obviously the very epitome of a clean living, highly moral individual, I have once or twice, flirted with 'the dark side' of life. While I am told by a friends son that in 2017 the use of "recreational" drugs is common, it wasn't so in my little social circle. At least it wasn't visible to me. I did have a friend who quite liked to use them, (older brother to a girlfriend) and being inquisitive, I organised a 'trial' with him producing the substance of interest. I've never smoked, and not likely to either, so inhalation wasn't possible. A well known solution to this was the involvement of a cake mix (in our case, fairy cake mix) to make what is sometimes known as a 'cookie'. We bought the mix, grated the substance, mixed and baked them. It produced 16 green 'fairy' cakes. As a reminder, at the time I took my first bite, I was a complete novice to this experience. I had watched others (unbelievably on a civil engineering job) who plainly enjoyed being under the influence, but I had so far avoided participation. My friend and I sampled the cake in the safety of his home. Well, having consumed one, and waited over half a hour for something to happen, nothing did. Thinking the cooking process or the ingredients we used had 'watered down' any possible effects, I consumed a second fairy cake. It took another half an hour, before the first cake started to take effect on my senses. As expected, I found everything, and anything, funny. For a brief period, I may have shared the same 'euphoric' experience, that some cigarette smoking imbibers enjoy a few minutes after inhaling. The experience was short lived as the full effect of the first cake took hold, and the second began running around my bloodstream. It became clear very quickly after that, I had ingested more than my body might be able to tolerate. I went from giggly, to being almost unable to control my limbs, and got very very dizzy. So dizzy in fact, I could barely stand up. Realising I was in trouble, and like most wounded wild animals, my first impulse was to return home. I remember there being times when I couldn't stand, and sometimes walked on my knees across grassed areas. Anyone watching would think I'd had a skinful, and was off my face with alcohol.... Although I had a mile to walk home, having left my car behind, I finally got to the relative safety of my home. Although legally an adult, I was too ashamed to tell my parents about my problem, although it might have been the sensible thing to do in terms of me not dying. Even now I can vividly remember sitting on the toilet (some 40 years ago) emptying my bowels for the second or third time wondering if I was going to survive. Due to the nature - the cause of my predicament, I felt unable to seek help from anyone else and would have to ride out the event alone, no matter what the outcome. In these (desperate) situations, we are often tempted to make promises that almost always, are not kept. For example; (i) if this bad thing doesn't happen to me, I will give a large chunk of money to charity. (ii) If I don't have this serious illness, I'll start living a more healthy lifestyle.... At this time, with me dizzy to the point of needing walls to keep upright, and the whole of my insides keen to get down the toilet, I made a promise that should I survive, I would never touch recreation drugs again, ever. Some 40 years later, that promise is still intact. In fact, my rather harrowing brush with drugs, may well have saved me from indulging at another occasion and finding the experience pleasant - to the point I used them as much as others might be inclined to. Put another way, I was 'scared off' at an early age, and it's kept me away from ever becoming an habitual user. Epilogue: Those fairy cakes got eaten, but not by me. Another non-smoking friend, ate just the one, and had liquids leaving his body from both ends simultaneously. This stuff wasn't the same grade as the newer/stronger type of drug often read about in newspapers these days. This was 'regular gear', it was just that consuming it the way we did, meant there was no waste. In fact the owner of the cakes, told me some time later, one half of a cake, got anyone who ate it, completely off their face. I had eaten two. I am of the opinion, that while some people might find pleasure in this kind of substance, it all too often leads to further experimentation. Further experimentation can and does lead to addiction, so my recommendation to anyone is: don't try them. While I clearly overdosed and put my life at risk, it has over time, probably kept me on the straight and narrow - away from any further experimentation. A lesson hard learnt.

You will have seen these, which would probably look a bit more attractive if the 'decorative' straps were removed. And significantly more affordable.

Well they did. Maybe sold out of the larger size? The wedge trainer image was originally, only used to demonstrate the availability of a high hidden wedge shoe. Even if they were still available in a UK8, £60+ trainers from China?

They were not, and in fact she wasn't with me so she hasn't seen them. She too would have worn ski-pants of a similar design "back in the day", which I think would have been early 80's. In fact I know for sure I have a picture of me in heels and ski-pants somewhere .... (Circa '84/'85.) Just to confirm, they were slightly stretchy and had tapered legs, providing a very flattering shape. They were not anything like skiing over-trousers often worn by people skiing. They looked something like this ..... The original style were fitted to the waist, and had slightly looser hip fitting than leggings would have these days. "Camel-Toe" wasn't popular or seemly back then. Of course anything goes these days, including women walking around in leggings so transparent, their underwear is clearly visible. We Europeans called them ski-pants because of the stirrup - obviously. In the US, they knew/know them as stirrup pants - apparently.

Was shopping in one of the Miss Selfridge franchises, Westfield White City tonight (there are three) looking for an item for Mrs Freddy. (Oddly.) Spied these: Very shiny, £20. Might be slightly sparkly, as well as shiny, but definitely shiny. Not seen stirrups worn like this before in the real world, and I've been seeing them (and wearing them) on ski-pants for more than 30 years .... I could see a practical use for the stirrup to help keep a court shoe on when used like this, but really?

I would propose, a bicycle is the single most useful tool in extending longevity of a human. Keeping anything close to 'healthy' is significantly more likely with exercise, and riding a bicycle puts almost no strain on skeletal or muscular form, unlike running, or any other form of mixed exercise. (Rowing might be another good one, but entry and participation nothing like as inexpensive.) Tomorrow, I might see if I can dig out more of my cycling attire.

They are useful. They keep your valuables from being sat on .... And keep padding in the right place. When I find my long M+S leggings, I'll do some piccies and post them here, AND the new cycling thread.

That's quite a romantic notion "quiet country lane" and I saw one in Kent about 5 years ago .... (Down toward Canterbury.) Up here in the Home Counties, there is no such thing as a quiet country lane. Car drivers have to be somewhere in the next five minutes, and van drivers should have been somewhere 5 minutes ago. The pace of life here, closely mimics that of London, with marginally less congestion. That wasn't the case 45 years ago, when most working class families struggled to own a car, and a long way off those that have a car for every adult of the household in 2017. Back then, double yellow lines in my home town were unthinkable, and "Residents Only" parking, completely unjustifiable. That doesn't stop keen road cyclists around here though. While driving from one town to another around two weeks ago, I overtook one going in the same direction as me. Although there was a(n empty) dedicated cycle route adjacent to the road (which Mrs Freddy and I have used), the lycra bound enthusiast was on the main road, where the speed limit is 60mph. During the course of our mutual journey's, I was stopped at least twice by traffic lights, a number of roundabouts and some congestion. Although I didn't realise until journeys end, our destinations were just 300 yards apart. We arrived at the same time, over what was probably a 3 mile journey. Fortunately, my locale is well furnished with cycle routes that do not require the use of roadway shared by motorised vehicles. And searching for a well know route (to cyclists, not me) has produced a web site dedicated to these. TfL are also doing their bit for cyclists as they are well aware, London roads can no longer support the demands of London traffic, nor can investment limitations/capacity support the needs of London commuters. The government also understands the need for economic and pollution reforms with regard to personal transport. Of course newer vehicles have increasingly stringent pollution legislation requirements to meet, but there has been a number of well publicised "scandals" of manufacturers thwarting tests to meet pollution limits. Without doubt, bicycles are the cleanest method of transport other than walking. That includes 'cradle to grave' of the manufacturing process, as well as 20-30 years use typical of most bicycles. I would expect just the manufacture of the smallest motorised vehicle available, creates more pollution from that one act, than 20 years use of a bicycle. I wonder how popular personal motorised transport would be, if public transport were free? Any capacity catered for, all electric, all free.

Very true. Self-improvement wasn't a conscious omission from the list. Of course I don't have much material to work with these days .... As far as the 'engine' aspect is concerned, I have only ever once found myself struggling on two wheels, and that was during a fairly fast paced cross-country ride of some 30+ miles whilst amongst more experienced/fitter riders. I didn't get left behind, though hearty encouragement from the group leader did help to keep me at the same pace as the others. That was a good 18/19 years ago now, but it's still only punctures and/or poor weather that get the better of me, rather than lack of stamina or enthusiasm. I suppose I should 'practice' regularly, and then join a cycling club really .... Were I ever tempted to race, (I wouldn't), at least now I qualify for the "Veteran" class ....

An interesting, if frightening read: >> here <<

I've got one, a hard tail. But with 40 years of improving homes, cars, motorcycles, computers and girlfriends, it's very hard to look at anything without wondering what I could do to improve its/their performance.

Stories about other 'escapees' .... >> here <<

Did the trial, took a photo, and then forgot to post. Duh! The tyre on the rear wheel is fatter (2.2) than I would normally use, with me preferring 1.95's as a reasonable width for the trails and grass I usually ride on. There is still adequate clearance with the swing arm bounced up and down with me on it, but large amounts of mud could fill the cable connection of the rear derailleur with goo. That said, it could also be true with a 26" wheel (which I have managed with other bikes in my younger/fitter days.) Bearing in mind the cost of an upgrade wheels/tyres/tubes, together with a new fork, I am wondering is there's any real value in doing it. It's not like I live on the bike, though an air fork would make it more lively. Jury is still out....

The 'roosting' ..... One Monday morning I woke early, with an incredible pain in my tummy. It subsided over the course of the next couple of hours, and I set off to work with only an orange for breakfast as I still felt unwell. At work, I arrived on time, but the feeling of nausea and bloatedness refused to leave. Eventually, I gave in and went to see the on-site nurse. She checked my temperature, which was normal, and gave me some BiSodol. I don't remember it tasting very nice, but I almost immediately felt better. After a few moments with her recording my taking the medicine, I left to return to my work position. Only 30 or 40 paces from the infirmary, I was actually sick (finally) and not only let go the BiSodol, but the orange as well. I did no more that walk to the foreman's office, and told him I was going to see a doctor. If I could read-the-look on his face, it read "you are swinging the lead". I didn't care, I was off. By the time I got home I was feeling better, but the pain and sickness had me a tad concerned, so I walked to the doctors surgery at the top of my road. I had to wait to be seen, but that meant 30 minutes, not a week or two. (Those were the days.) I had an examination, that included me positioned on my side while on a bench, putting my knees to my chest while my trousers were around my ankles. I was warned that the rectal examination "might be uncomfortable". Well, I wasn't in any way prepared for the pain that lifted me some way off the bench. Jeez, that hurt. During the course of the physical examination, I was asked this and that (eating habits, drinking habits) and "had I suffered any trauma recently, like a car crash or a fall?" With the innocence of an angel, I replied "No." Having completely forgotten about the incident some two weeks previously. [Duh!] With as much information as I could give, and the results of the rectal in mind, the doctor said he wanted me to go to the hospital. He assured me he didn't think there was any need for concern, but his "duty as a doctor" meant he was compelled to refer me to a local A+E. Could I get there under my own steam? Yes I could, so I went. Straight away. Once at the A+E department, I parked my car in what I remember was a free car park. I went into A+E armed with doctors the note, and sat alone in the waiting area. (Those really were the Good Old Days!) It didn't take long before I was seen by a doctor. He read the letter, then asked me to undress and get on a bench, he's be back in a minute. I did as I was bid, and rested on the bench in a hospital gown. The doctor returned, and prodded my tummy, just as my own doctor had. There was still some discomfort.... The conclusion reached, was that I was to stay in hospital over night for observation. Did I need to have anyone informed? Eventually I was wheeled into a room adjacent to the examination area, with a blanket over my lower body to help keep me warm. I remember the time being about 1.30pm and I soon fell asleep. I must have been away with the fairies for a good half hour, before a porter arrived and took me off to a mens surgical ward. Around 3.30pm, I had a visit from a surgeon. More prodding .... and "Nil by mouth" ???? Some time later, I asked what was happening. I was rather matter-of-factly informed, I was going to theatre at 6.30pm, but I wouldn't be awake to enjoy the performance.... "Apparently" the operation to remove my swollen/diseased appendix went well. I vaguely remember getting a visit from my parents quite late in the evening, though had to have my memory jogged about this a couple of days later before it was recalled at all. What I do remember vividly was, having been told to sip water after coming around, I didn't. I was SO thirsty, I glugged a half glass of water as soon as I woke proper. Mistake! Like the BiSodol, it quickly reappeared, and I realised being sick hurt - a lot. My new tummy wound did not like me retching at all! Fortunately, I was soon back off with the fairies. My recuperation was hampered by a mild infection in my wound that had me hospitalised for 9 days rather than the 5 or 6 that was typical back then. I enjoyed my time there with pretty young nurses running around, and even had something of a flirtation with one. (If only I had have had the courage to ask her out. Why else were we in a room alone?) I'd gotten on quite well with an 'old boy' who was in for something quite serious, and who's future wasn't looking as good as mine... He told me that when he was young, the appendectomy was a very serious operation. Back then they opened up the whole of your tummy area to get at your appendix, and recovery was typically 6 months. I was expected to return to work after a couple of weeks. During my whole time at the hospital, I felt something of a charlatan, there under false pretences. After all, tummy ache and sickness? Before I was discharged, I was assured by the surgeon my need for that operation was urgent, otherwise they would not have operated so soon. What a service we had, 40 years ago.

Too clever/obtuse for me .... It's all still there, but unusually quiet, and I mean quiet. Drove into London (as usual) and for the first I can remember, no traffic queue at Apex Corner, and I mean none at all. Although we purposely arrived late in the day (eating out), the shops weren't busy either. While Mrs Freddy remarked it was probably to do with new-season-stock in the shops rather than sale-stock, I couldn't help but wonder if troubles abroad are affecting shoppers? The 'sale' Office Hampton courts I coveted at £48 (down from £72) had gone, though them finally going down to £38 may have something to do with that .... Not least because at that price, even I wouldn't have resisted. The rain arrived at 6.15pm, fortunately light enough then, for us to get back to the car reasonably dry. Wasn't so good on the way home 2 hours later, when it poured down. During the interim period we enjoyed a fairly leisurely meal, in a fairly empty restaurant. We almost sat outside under a canopy at another restaurant, but a smoker lighting up had me leaving our table. Quite a few restaurants don't have smokers anywhere on their premises, but Carluccio's at Market Place W1W provided an ash tray (of sorts) to the lady who had finished her coffee and paid her bill. Providing that ash tray had me taking £40's worth of trade elsewhere, and looking at how slow it was tonight, it may have been £40 they needed. We ate at a place we are familiar with, and it was quiet there too. Not that we minded, as our food arrived quickly, and we didn't have to speak loudly to be heard either. We had parked quite close so only had to walk across the road to start our journey home. Sadly, roadworks and the rain meant going home wasn't as quick as arriving. I think we got stopped at every set of lights bar one, Not that it marred the afternoon out.

Yay! Me and Mrs Freddy are off to London tomorrow, to make sure it's still there! Hopefully, we are going to see some warm weather....

You might leave a review anyway. I have long suspected for each person that comments here and HHp, there are ten that don't. Also, membership is volatile. While there will be core members who have stayed for 5+ years, there will be a higher number that moves in and out. A review would be useful to someone at some stage. It may be you can leave reviews on the two sites I found too (as above). It won't help you, but might help others.

I have had a look at two review sites for this company, "Shopper Approved" and Google Customer reviews. The Shopper site seems to have responses disproportionate to those at Google, meaning the Shopper ratings show a higher satisfaction rate overall. Looking at 1-3 star ratings on Google, the response you have from the selling company seems about 'typical'. The 1 star ratings on the Shopper site were about the same. (I didn't read the 2 star ratings.) I never read 4 or 5 star ratings, as they are valueless. When I read reviews, I want to know what the bad bits were on a sale or post-sale support. This company charges for everything. They don't always provide the discount they offer. Their support "team" contradict each other. They don't even look after repeat customers, and their online purchase system is temperamental. (These conclusion reached from the reviews.) And quite importantly, their products don't seem to carry the quality they once did. All in all, not a company to be trusted, sadly.

She was on a "reality" show called Made In Chelsea for a couple of seasons. Family is worth millions having sold out to Nestle in 1988. If you had eaten a Quality Street, Rolo, or Toffee Crisp in your youth, you possibly contributed to the family wealth. I didn't look at all the links, but yours were there too.

Headline should read: "Complete air-head wears PVC jeans" ..... The heiress Millie Mackintosh. (Yes, that Mackintosh.) More pictures, same pose >> here <<

No wonder they got on back in the 80's ....

You are looking for listing number: 322046070903 Not sure about the black .... The white ones have a more attractive sole ...

Even Trumps co-author think he's going to fall on his sword. Reported >> here << Although he has been saying that for some time ...