Rar! [meep] & (query)

Sudden last-minute invite to a gig last night. Tony Joe White at the Borderline. No trains, so I had to leap on the Birdy and pedal like buggery up town.

This was going fine until I was crossing Clapham Common, at which point I encountered - amongst many other sensible dog-walkers with leads, or intelligent dogs - a woman with some small partially-shaved Chihuahua-like yappy thing. She on 1 side of the path, it on the other. I went in between, at which point the mindless little beast looks up at me in panic - and runs to its owner. Right underneath my front wheel. Wheel goes straight over dog, which yelps; Liam goes straight over handlebars, yelling imprecations. The dog clambers to its feet, resplendent with a tyre track right across its gut. I pick myself up, noting gratefully that nothing's broken except the skin of my palms and knees. And I have a new hole in the knee of my combat trousers.

She asks if I'm ok, then tries to catch her mutt - which flees towards Clapham Common Southside, straight into the traffic, its owner standing there uselessly and screaming. I hope it's OK.

I clean myself up, apply sticking plasters, and carry on. By Clapham town, the sodden plasters have fallen off. I stop to buy more. These last 'til Stockwell, at which point I give up and just bleed all over my handlebars.

I made the gig. It was excellent - a fine old bluesman. We adjourn to the Crobar next door, where I'm pleased to be recognised by former colleage Gerry Ewing of Metal Hammer magazine, and we drink... well, quite a lot.

This will be why when I cycle off to Putney to feed sbisson and marypcb's cats, I get badly lost. I go over Chelsea bridge, then through Battersea, THEN through Vauxhall - eh? - up to Clapham Junction - that was unexpected - then, half an hour later, past the Latchmere theatre pub (right by CJ) - eh? again - and arrive at Putney one and a half hours later, from what should've been a half-hour ride. Bugger. Feed moggies, sit on sofa to nurse sore aching bits, and suddenly, it's 8:30 in the morning. Bugger again.

The ride home wasn't much fun, either.

[Sigh] It's the Ton tonight, but there'll be Stuff™ at it, which is rather putting me off. That, and being rather sore. I'll have a bath and see how I feel then.

In other news: happy birthday, drpete!

Oh, aye, and a question.

I've bought my first ever razor! An elderly Gillette Mach II, as I have a load of unused blades bought for one given to me by a long-ago girlfriend - Louise, the one before Denise, the one before aeia. (Odd that the majority - just - of my former partners are on LJ these days. Spot them all, win a pint. Or something.) Alas, the folding travel razor Lou gave me is broken, but I thought I could still use the blades, since I found a chemist with just 1 ancient GII still in stock. The faint link with this long-ago gift pleases me. I'm a sentimental fool, but you all knew that.

Thing is, how long do these things last? How'd you tell when it's replacement time? Just by feel? It felt great first time - really smooth, much better than the disposables I've been using for 6mth - but 2nd and 3rd were already noticeably duller. Any recommendations?