I had a couple of minor errands to tend to, one of which being that the bunker is bereft of white bread, so I got on the bike and went to the bank for a Jackson. Traveling between bank and store, though, as I stopped for a red light, the bike just quit on me and wouldn't restart.
Switched the petcock to "reserve" and tried to restart, then realized I had to wait while the carb float bowls refilled; after that, though, she started right up.
After buying bread, I hit the gas station, and the bike took nearly two gallons of gas. That means it's been around 130 miles since I last refilled the tank, and if I could reset the trip odometer I might have known that and gone to the gas station first. Or filled the thing the last time I used it.
On the plus side, gas has shied away from the high of $4.30 per gallon it was sitting at last week. It probably didn't cost me more than $9 to fill the bike's tank with 89 octane. *whimper*
Can you dig it.
Hit BK for a couple of Whoppers, because I haven't had any real solid food since last night. Mrs. Fungus got Popeye's chicken yesterday for dinner, and while it tasted damned good on the way in, it was less than pleasant on the way out some nine hours later. I recalled Og's comment about repurposing Fudgesicles as suppositories, because it didn't just burn at the exit port; oh no. It burned some distance back from there, a sensation I had not previously experienced, and which I had been well prepared not to.
Only after that did I start enjoying the full gastroenteritis package (cramps, headache, nausea, etc). I had absolutely no heartburn whatsoever, which only makes this little episode weirder. Got up at 1PM to cook Mrs. Fungus her breakfast (served to her in bed, of course) and then I went right back to bed, with her blessing.
I feel fine now.
But the bike is making a weird noise again, when I hit bumps the right way, and it made it when I turned into the driveway. That let me isolate where the hell it was coming from, and when I stopped the bike and looked, it turned out that the tach cable had come unscrewed from the tachometer again. *sigh*
The dang thing doesn't work; the least it could do is stay screwed in, damn it. The neutral light is flaky; it works sometimes. Argh etc. Sounds as if the chain is slapping again; I can't seem to keep the right amount of slack in that dang thing for longer than a couple tankfuls of gas, which only further convinces me I really have to change that bitch.
I honestly don't understand how a machine can have less than 15,000 miles on it and be falling apart solely because it's 31 years old. Is it all the time it spent in stasis? (Probably. Machines wither when they're not used.)
Whatever the case may be, the bike needs lots of tinkering to be 100%, which is neither surprising nor dismaying to me. Still, I'd someday like to buy a brand new motorcycle with a warranty and everything. *sigh*
* * *
One of the rose bushes we planted has two blooms on it, and another of them is preparing to bust out some petals. I was told that rose bushes generally do not bloom for a year after they've been planted, but these apparently haven't heard that rule. The bush between them seems less enthusiastic about this whole "breeding" thing.
Well, it makes Mrs. Fungus happy, anyway.
Me, I have to consider the weather forecast vis-a-vis getting the grass cut. It says "rain tonight, sunny tomorrow" so I think I can safely wait 24 hours before worrying about it. But before I can cut the grass, I've got to go buy gas for the mower, and at the current Vale price of $4.03 per gallon it's going to cost me a Jackson to fill the gas can. *sigh*
Don't mind me; I'm just going to sit over here hating on US energy policy for the past twenty-five years....