Aperture, is awesomes like a million hot-dogs, sometimes it will import your pictures and fill your hard-drive by copying them into a database, sometimes, it will leave them in the location, sometimes you will have to reinstall it because it refuses to import anything and you will have your photos spread across two 40gb databases on your laptop and the rest on your USB Drive, sometimes you will have to delete one of these databases in order to have any space left on your laptop, and sometimes you will lose a load of photos….

Central Station NYC, Dark Hedges Armoy, i only have <1mb jpegs to remember you by now, the original RAW files have gone to the great trashcan in the sky.

I still have most of my NYC photos, but these, from my last day, were very nearly lost… but i am very very gutted, i’m actually scared to go through and try to find what i have lost.

There is a curious feeling that you get using a computer every so often, it feels like an empty bowling ball being removed from your stomach, sometimes it comes when you hit the ‘reply-all’ button on an email instead of ‘reply’ and sometimes it comes when you realise that you have lost a lot of data. Does this have a name?

and indeed rides again. As you may be aware (indeed, despite some truly ‘bang bang club-esque’ photos from the heart of the riot, all you have been interested in, is the bike) the hum-vee on 2 wheels that transports me from A-to-Y took a hit in the piccadilly warzone last wednesday, causing me to leave it locked up in the centre of town. It had a quick release front wheel that was probably worth more than the rest of the bike and a sentimental value that is probably pennies more than its actual value of £50 off e-bay.

So resigned for the worst I made my way into town, remembering the good times like the 54 mile midnight bike ride from Manchester to Formby, with a rocket on the back, Earlier this year

So imagine my surprise then, when I reach town and find it fully in-tact, un mollested and un scathed.. well slightly scathed… a bit wrecked in the back wheel to be fair, but as usual, throwing more money at it than it is actually worth saves the day and ‘the cycle of violence’ is back and ready to be trailered up and used as a tractor down on the allotment again.

They never even made off with the bottle opener on the saddle – people of manchester, i owe you an apology for ever doubting you.

Click for big

lots of photos, from last night, Full Gallery Here

RIP, ‘the cycle of violence’, my poor bicycle and trusty steed that carried me away from battles before, last night was a step too far, someone took exception to it, ‘proclaiming, ‘Haw you, ya bike riding BASSA’ and in the ensuing escape plastic chairs and union jacks conspired to buckle the back wheel – i fear its still lying in under the buckfast bottles in piccadilly gardens somewhere – a full obituary to ‘the cycle of violence’ will follow