#How to update my Sat Nav

[norabrice1701]

Twist My Heart - Ch. 2

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

- A TG:M Twister AU -

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Also on AO3

Ch. 2 Warnings: Language; discussion of canon character death; tornado chasing drama

Even with guaranteed nationwide wi-fi service, the rural counties still prove a constant challenge. Squinting against hazy sunlight that shafts through the windshield, Bradley stares at the progress bar on his laptop, willing the radar image to update. The supercell to the south has finally started to display favorable indications for a hook echo… but then his internet connection blipped.

He sighs, resting back against the passenger seat headrest as the image continues to load. His eyes drift closed but the release of a semitruck’s air brakes jar his attention. The midday beehive activity of gas stations make them Bradley’s least favorite place to wait out oncoming storms, but their SUV did need refueling. 

Another disappointing glance at his computer screen confirms the ongoing wi-fi struggle, and he looks out the windshield instead. His gaze lands immediately on Hangman’s swaggering form, impossible to miss as he exits the convenience store. A plastic bag swings next to his legs clad in casually well-fitting jeans and his Dagger Labs polo shirt highlights the strong build of his chest. Sunglasses shield his eyes and complement all the attractive angles of his face beneath his stylish blonde hair. He passes a woman who offers him a bashful smile, and he dials his answering grin up to full brilliance. It brings out the dimples that never fail to lend him an air of boyish charm, and… fuck.

“Where the fuck are we?” Fanboy’s voice sounded over the CB radio with distinct displeasure. “Come on, Bob.” 

“You’re on County Road 31 - or should be, at least. Half a mile out, Dagger 3.” Bob responded with calm ease. 

“Tornado is on the ground!” Payback hollered, his excitement palpable through the radio static. “It’s going about 35 mph. North-northeast.” 

Bradley’s heart jumped in his chest as he pressed harder on the gas pedal. Just over the low hill ahead, he watched the black, angry funnel taking violent shape, and the sight made his blood rush. 

Hangman popped the lens cover off his camera in the passenger seat. “Don’t get too close, now. You’ll ruin the shot.” 

“Heaven forbid I come between you and your art.” 

“Damn straight.” 

Bradley turned to cast a passing glance out the passenger window, just able to make out the flashing yellow lights of Dagger 2 approaching from the west. His smile widened as the Dagger Labs team continued to move into position, each fulfilling their field assignments, and Bradley turned his gaze back out out the front windshield. Over the roar of wind and the blaring team radio calls, he heeded the sat nav directions and cranked the wheel on the next road towards Bob’s tracking coordinates. 

“Oh, man,” Fanboy chuckled with raw wonder. “We have an EF2, possibly EF3 with a very large rope on the ground!”

“Shear is 90 knots. Rotation increasing.” Nat reported, all business and calm coolness. “50 outbound, 40 inbound.” 

Bradley’s smile grew as the digital shutter on Hangman’s camera started clicking away. It was an artform that Bradley never understood, but Hangman always found a way to capture breathtaking images no matter how fast Bradley drove. 

“Axis has gone vertical!” Fanboy whooped with joy. “This sucker’s really gaining strength and we’re getting into prime position!”

The promise of victory - of good data capture - rushed a thrill through Bradley as he made the next turn onto a dirt road, tracking the twister’s visual progress relative to the target coordinates. He lived for these moments - with his hair on fire and adrenaline electrifying his senses as the power of mother nature reigned supreme, ripe for scientific exploration. 

The SUV bounced over the uneven, rutted road jarring them both in their seats. Hangman glared over, bracing one hand against the dashboard and trying to steady his camera with the other. “Where the fuck did you turn?” 

“Where’s Bob’s directions said…” 

Hangman turned his gaze out the window suspiciously, staring down at the ground as they jounced. “Are you sure this even qualifies as a road?” 

“It’s got to be.” Bradley answered as he fought the wheel to keep the SUV moving forward in a steady, straight line. “It's probably called something like… ‘Bob’s Road’.”

Hangman barked a sharp laugh that carried a genuine note of amusement as he looked over at Bradley. His cheeks held the flush of excitement and his eyes shone with bright energy as he shot Bradley a smile. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.” 

Bradley glanced over, blood singing in his veins as the perfect beauty of the moment took his breath away.

Bradley sighs again, pushing the memory aside and hoping to expel more than one type of frustration as he looks back at his computer. The driver door opens, ushering in a gust of gasoline fumes and dust as Hangman retakes his seat. Bradley stays content to ignore him, focusing instead on the progress bar of his radar update. At least until a bag of sour gummy worms lands on his laptop keys.

He’s long stopped being flattered when his coworkers - especially Hangman - remember his snack preferences. It comes with the territory after so many years on the road together.

“I keep thinking that one day you’ll outgrow those, you know.” Hangman’s words deform around the corner of a plastic wrapper clenched between his teeth as he tears it open. “Or do you actually like getting cavities? Or diabetes much?”

Bradley rips the bag open as he glances over at Hangman. The blonde gnaws a bite of beef jerky, and Bradly just arches an incredulous brow before speaking. “And what about you? Hypertension much? Colon cancer?”

The corner of Hangman’s mouth lifts as he waves the snack for emphasis. “At least this has protein in it. Something redeeming.”

There’s plenty redeeming in the gummy candy's sweet and sour flavors that burst on Bradley's tongue, but they're none of Hangman’s business. He doesn’t need to know how they were Goose’s favorite. How Bradley could always find a bag stashed in his desk – sometimes half-eaten, sometimes stale, sometimes unopened – and his dad would always let him have some, even if it was before dinner. He offers a shrug as he pulls more gummy worms out of the bag. “Vice of choice.” 

Hangman chuckles. “And you’re how old? 10?” 

“Beer’s a close second.” 

“Really livin’ on the edge there, Roo.” Hangman deadpans, words distorted as he chews another bite of jerky.

Bradley blinks down at the radar image that’s nearly uploaded before turning back towards Hangman. His elbow rests on the window ledge and the visible swell of muscle has no right to be so appealing. Bradley’s no slouch in the gym, either - the job demands a certain physicality - but something about Hangman’s has always made Bradley’s heart race. “What’s yours, then?” He asks, licking stray sugar from his lips. “What vice makes you so high and mighty?” 

A shit-eating grin grows on Hangman’s face. “Now what’s the fun in just telling you?” 

Bradley shakes his head, swallowing a wave of irritation. “You don’t have to tell me - I can only assume there’s a reason Coyote has lots of tequila stories about you.” And they absolutely, resolutely don’t make Bradley jealous. Not the stories themselves, but Coyote and Hangman’s relationship going back so many years before working together at Dagger Labs. He still doesn't know how or why Mav hired them both - or if they came as a package deal - but they’ve only helped add to Dagger Labs’ prestigious reputation. 

“Stories are just that,” Hangman answers, clearly unimpressed. “Easy to fabricate and easy to exaggerate.” 

He can’t resist arching a teasing brow. “Oh, I’m sure Coyote has photos, though. No self-respecting friend wouldn’t want that sort of embarrassing fodder for a 40th birthday or wedding rehearsal dinner show’n tell.” 

Disgusted disbelief wrinkles Hangman’s face. “If that’s your idea of what being a friend means, Bradshaw, then count me out.”  

“Well, then," he says, hoping his voice isn't suddenly too tight. "Good thing we’re just coworkers.” 

A silence falls in the SUV, broken only by their quiet chewing and the muffled sounds of the gas station around them. The plastic wrapper of the jerky stick crinkles as Hangman polishes off the last bite. “How’s Doppler looking?” 

At least the weather forecast information has finally refreshed. Bradley swipes his finger over the touchscreen. “Looks like that cell south of us has dropped in intensity. Not likely to spawn anything now.” 

“I never hung my hat on that system, anyway.” Hangman says, almost bored. “Not enough stability for the upper wind rotations to form.” 

Bradley doesn’t quite roll his eyes. “You never even saw the data, man.” 

“Didn’t need to.” He shoots an adoring look at Bradley over the top of his shades. “Not when you use your words so well, saying such pretty things.” 

Bradley just shakes his head, refusing to look over and hoping that Hangman doesn’t see the tightening muscles of his jaw. In these moments, he hates that he doesn’t have the same instincts. That he’s more data dependent, more prone to think than to act. While it hasn’t failed him yet - in fact, it’s saved his ass on more than one occasion - even Mav has told him that he needs to not think quite so much. 

Maybe he just comes by it too honestly. 

He takes a last mouthful of gummy worms and rolls up the bag, stuffing it into the glove box. With another scan of the forecast data, he glances down at the notebook resting next to the center console and picks it up. If there’s one surefire way to get Hangman to shut up, this is it. 

Nibbling his bottom lip, he starts inking out representative lines for each letter of the word that he's chosen. No matter how many times he’s played Hangman with… well, Hangman, it never fails to transport him back to his grade school days despite the mobile lab equipment around him. 

Hangman chuckles softly as he watches Bradley sketch out a scaffold. “You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to play.” 

“Well, I’m done listening to you talk, and you can do what you do best.” 

“Impress you?”

“Win.” Bradley states it like the fact that it is. It’s long stopped being a competition, but Bradley refuses to admit that Hangman’s mastery of the game does impress him. He glances up at Hangman and holds the notebook out for him to study. 

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

A toothpick materializes in the corner of Hangman’s mouth, another of his many talents. “You’re missing the category hint.” 

Bradley mentally kicks himself. He should have remembered that but like hell will he admit it. “That’s not a firm rule, is it?” 

Hangman cuts him with a sly gaze over his sunglasses. “Of course it is. Stop trying to cheat.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts without permission. “Alright - category is ‘thing’.” 

Hangman’s eyes fix on the notebook. “‘T’.” 

Bradley scratches the pen on the page, filling in the blank. 

__ __ __ __ T __ __ __

Hangman’s tongue darts out to tease the toothpick as he cocks his head. “A risk, but one I think’ll pay off – ‘C’.”

Bradley tries to hide his disappointment as he writes out the letter.

__ __ C __ T __ __ __

A triumphant smile brightens Hangman’s face. “You really picked ‘vacation’ as the word? Come on, at least make it a challenge!”

Bradley’s mouth gapes open before he can stop it, staring at the page. “How in the hell? There’s nothing obvious about that!”

“A master never reveals his secrets.” Hangman plucks the toothpick and points it towards the notebook. “Come on, write it out – prove me right.”

With gentle scoff, Bradley shakes his head and moves the pen over the paper.

V A C A T I O N

Despite the fact that Hangman is called Hangman for this exact reason, despite the fact that Bradley has seen Hangman do this countless times, and despite the fact that he’ll never stump Hangman at his own game, it still stirs the competitive part of him. Bradley stares at the blank page for the space of a breath as he tries to summon something clever. Something unusual, something harder - something with two words. 

Carrier pigeon. 

Liking his odds, he inks out lines for the thirteen letters. “Two words, this time,” he clarifies, glancing back at Hangman and holding out the notebook. “Still category ‘thing’.”

Hangman huffs a breathy laugh, scanning around the gas station parking lot before turning his attention back down to the page. “Okay, let’s start with ‘R’.”

Bradley writes out the three R’s on the page and holds his face neutral. Hangman brings the toothpick back to his mouth, rolling the wooden stick between his lips. A grin of recognition starts creeping across his face. “Let’s see if I got it – N.”

With sinking dread and absolute bafflement, Bradley writes the offending letter in the last blank.

Hangman smiles in victory with that damnably obnoxious toothpick pinched between too many teeth. “Carrier pigeon.”

“There’s no… no fucking way.” Bradley shakes his head in disbelief, motioning at the notebook. “There’s just… there’s nothing there…”

“Just because you don’t know the strategy doesn’t mean that there isn’t one.”

Bradley writes out the solution just because he can with another incredulous shake of his head. “Were you a spelling bee whiz kid in school? You must have been, to be so good at this now.”

Hangman’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “God, no. That’s a whole other level of teacher’s pet brown-nosing, do-gooding.”

Truthfully, Bradley can’t ever imagine a young Jake Seresin standing on some stage with a first-place spelling bee ribbon, but it’s something he’s always wondered about. How did the man get so freakishly good at this game? 

Hangman’s eyes meet his even behind the sunglasses, and he misses none of the contemplation happening behind Bradley’s eyes. His brows pinch together with piqued interest. “Wait…” Hangman says slowly, plucking the toothpick from his lips. “Does that mean that you… oh, god, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Bradley’s face screws with disbelief. “No - I don’t even remember ever participating in a spelling bee.” Quickly, he tries to think of something else to hide the trajectory of his thoughts. “No, I… I was just thinking about the origin of the name ‘spelling bee’.”

“You mean it’s not named after some bee who’s good at spelling?” Hangman’s trademark teasing grin sounds in his voice.

Bradley ignores his stupidly obvious joke. “’Bee’ used to be the common term for a communal gathering – like a quilting bee or an apple bee.”

Silence falls for a beat before Hangman cocks his head in curious thought. “So, then… by that logic, is that seriously how the restaurant chain got its name?”

The image of Applebee’s Bar & Grill logo flashes in Bradley’s mind. His brows furrow as he shakes his head. “Well, it… you know, I have no idea.”

“Dagger 1, come in.” Nat’s voice sounds over the SUV speakers and anticipation bursts in Bradley’s chest. He reaches to unmute the team voice chat. 

“Copy that, Dagger 2.” A smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “Good to hear from you, Phoenix.” 

“Figured someone might need to give you two a break by now.” 

Hangman scoffs indignantly. “Ye of little faith, Phoenix. Things were just starting to get good.” 

“A twenty says you’re wrong.” 

Bradley knows better than to take that bet against Natasha Trace. “Whatcha got?” 

“Major action,” Bob’s voice comes over the speakers. “The cap is breaking. Tower’s going up 30 miles up the dry line.” 

Bradley’s heart leaps in his chest. Nothing else has even come close today. “Where are you?” 

“Near Burns Flat.” 

He reaches for his seatbelt on instinct, hearing Hangman’s also click into place. “And that’s where? North? South?” 

Nat’s voice sounds again. “Bob’s already sent you GPS coordinates.” 

Hangman’s smile widens as the SUV engine roars to life. “That shit gets me hard, Bob.” 

Bradley stares up at the speakers in the ceiling as if seeking forgiveness. “What he means is thank you and we’re on our way. We’ll catch you on CB when we get within range.” 

“Copy that.” 

The chat line mutes as Hangman shifts the SUV into gear, not quite peeling out of the parking space but coming pretty damn close. Bradley jostles in his seat, pulling up the vehicle's sat nav and Bob's coordinates. He arches a disapproving brow over at Hangman as they leave the gas station behind. “No call to be so crude.” 

Hangman doesn’t glance over, focused on the road ahead. “And no call for you to be such a prude.” 

“Not a prude.” Bradley corrects as he pulls up the latest data. “Just not rude. Especially when you know it makes Bob uncomfortable.” 

“He’ll never grow if he’s not pushed outside of his comfort zone, dear.” Hangman sing-songs with a mocking edge. “Though that sounds like someone else we both know, doesn’t it?” 

The barb digs under Bradley’s skin but he pushes it aside. Glancing at the sat nav directions to confirm distance to target, he glances up at the darkening sky. “Just drive or we’ll miss it entirely.” 

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[your-divine-ribs]

I’m With the Band Part 10

Words: 1.4k (a short and smutty update)

I don’t know if anyone’s even reading this story on here but here ya go, got a few more chapters to post and then Sam’s getting thrown into the mix!

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

I only have precisely ten seconds to weigh up whether or not this is actually a good idea, as Van needs little encouragement. He's already moving forward at my invitation, one hand curling around my waist and the other reaching up to cup my face, tilting it up towards his. I move backwards until we're both in the toilet cubicle, my bum pressed up against the sink.

"You're fucking gorgeous, ya know that?" He says quietly as he looms ever closer. "Been dying to get you on your own since I saw you in the pub the other day."

I consider pushing him away, knowing this will drive him crazy, but who am I kidding? Resisting won't just be torturous for him. He's intoxicating and he knows it, and as he pushes his hips into mine, pressing me back into the cold, unrelenting ceramic, I can feel my body responding.

"What are you waiting for then?" I purr, darting the tip of my tongue out to run over my plump bottom lip, looking up at him seductively.

The atmosphere is electric but suddenly Van pulls away, and I'm confused for a second until I realise that he's only stepping back to shut the toilet door, quickly sliding the lock across, securing us both inside. Then he's back, bending down slightly to curl his fingers around my thighs, lifting me up in one swift motion so I'm now sitting, perched on the edge of the sink, legs splayed wide whilst he's pressed into the space in between them. He certainly doesn't waste his time.

"I'm not gonna fuck you in here," I state plainly, feeling his hands on my thighs, slowly sliding the fabric of my dress upwards, exposing me right up to my hips.

"Who said anything about fucking?" He replies, a sly smile on his lips which are edging ever closer to mine. He’s so close now that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. "Only got ten minutes anyway until the doors open..."

"What..." I start but my words are cut off abruptly as his lips collide with mine, punching the breath right from my lungs.

His kiss is hungry and deep from the start, his tongue sliding hungrily against mine, feverishly invading my mouth. Any thoughts of resistance spin away in a fog of lust, his lips sealing my fate as I grab his hips and pull his body even closer, pushing mine against his simultaneously.

He pulls away slightly, breathing deeply, his forehead pressed against mine. "Are ya sure you don't fancy me darlin', 'cause you seem pretty keen?"

Even when he's seducing me he still manages to be fucking annoying, but his teasing only adds to my attraction. And two can play at that game.

"You're still a dick," I confirm. "I kiss lots of guys. Don't think you're anything special."

"Well, we'll see about that shall we?" He replies, one of his hands straying to my inner thigh, gently caressing a teasing trail to the edge of my underwear.

My heart's thudding in my rib cage and my cheeks feel flushed. I try to maintain some composure as a lone fingertip slides lightly over the silky fabric of my panties, but my body betrays me as a shudder of pleasure shoots through me. Van's just watching me, that little smug smile playing on his lips suggesting that he knows damn well that I'm teetering on the edge of control.

"Want me to show you how good I am with my hands then?" He smirks self-assuredly.

My body's screaming YES but I still don't want to give him the satisfaction. I've been with so many guys who spout off about what amazing lovers they are, but the reality is they haven't got a fucking clue. I swear that some of them wouldn't even be able to find a clitoris with a detailed map and sat-nav co-ordinates.

I roll my eyes at him. "Thought you said you only had ten minutes? I don't think you're that much of an expert!"

He shakes his head slowly, still grinning. "I only need five darlin', trust me!"

"Just shut up and kiss me!" I say, leaning in again, attaching my lips to his and he responds with a passion that makes me light-headed.

I feel his fingers move to caress me over the silk of my panties and I can't deny how good it feels, my hips twitching, needing more. As if reading my mind... or more likely my body... he hooks a finger around the edge of the material, quickly moving it aside. When his fingertips connect with my bare skin I moan loudly into his mouth, which causes him to kiss me even harder.

Fuck... he wasn't lying... he is good at this. He begins to rub small circles over my clit, starting off gently but gradually building up the pressure. When my legs start trembling I think even his five minute guarantee might be generous.

"Van..." I groan as his lips leave mine and start to kiss a trail down my neck. I feel him slip a finger inside me, hitting a spot which has my hips pressing forward, desperate for more.

"Mmm Bella... you like that, yeah?" He whispers into my neck, his lips finding the sensitive spot that makes me shiver.

My whole body's on fire now and I'm past caring whether I'm stoking Van's ego by showing my very obvious pleasure. He's a fucking magician, I'm sure of it, and I'm just about to experience the grand finale.

"Feels... so... good..." I moan, my voice coming out in little gasps, ready to explode at any minute...

And then he stops.

"What the hell are you doing?" I exclaim, watching on as he steps back to lean against the door, leaving me exposed and aching for my release.

I hurriedly pull my dress back down over my hips, hopping down from the sink as he looks me right in the eye with a smug kind of challenge on his face. "I'll finish you off later if you ask nicely... and admit that you like me."

What the fuck? This can't be happening. Not to me.

"You're joking right?" I utter in complete shock, my hands balling into fists. I want to swing at him and knock that self-satisfied grin right off his cocky smirking face.

Luckily for him, there's a knock on the door and Larry's voice sounds out. "Van, they've opened the doors mate. What ya doing in there? You've been ages... and have you seen our Bells?"

"Don't you dare!" I hiss at Van as his smile turns even more mischievous, putting a finger over my lips to demonstrate that he should keep quiet.

"I'll be right out!" He calls. "And I'm sure Bella's around here somewhere... knowing her she's probably up to no good!"

I just glare at Van, shaking my head. My mind's already working overtime, trying to come up with a plan to get one over on him, but right now I don't even want to see his smug face.

He opens his mouth to speak but I don't give him chance. I shunt him out of the way, swinging the door open and bursting out into the corridor, only to be met by Larry with a shocked look on his face. This is all I need. I didn't think he'd actually hang around waiting for Van.

I storm past Larry, making my way back into the venue and I hear him shout out. "Fucking 'ell you pair, you've not been shagging in there have you?"

This stops me in my tracks and I whirl around, indignant, hands on my hips, glowering at Van whilst I answer my cousin.

"You're kidding aren't you? I wouldn't shag Van if he was the last man on earth!"

And then I'm barrelling back into the venue, taking up my spot at the barrier, sulkily sipping on my pint, still fuming.

[sketchyfletch]

I cannot stress enough how much I would not want my car 'fixed with a remote update'. Anybody who has seen their computer go through an automatic update or been reimaged by IT only to become a near unusable mess knows how much of a disaster this can be. Mechanics are humans and can make mistakes or commit deliberate sabotage, but they can also be held immediately accountable in a way a large faceless corporation cannot. I would trust ol' Honest Joe down the road with my car a thousand times before I let a Google update near it.

For Sat nav? Sure. Any mechanical features? Fuck all the way off.

nobody:

the most obnoxious idiot on the planet: "what if we replaced the buttons with a touch interface"

[moods1805]

Diary of an Intermittent Runner Weeks 18, 19 and 20

Yet another delayed post - hopefully, when this years exams are out of the way, I will be a little bit more reliable.

Firstly, following on from my last update, I am really sad to say that Laura Nuttall died in the early hours of this morning. Glioblastoma is such a cruel disease, but Laura was a true inspiration for the way in which she dealt with everything that she faced. My thoughts are with Nicola, Mark and Gracie at this time.

I don't think anything can prepare you for having cancer or watching a loved one with cancer. I can distinctly remember a conversation with a close friend when there was a local, quite high profile, news story about a young boy with a type of blood cancer. 'How do they cope?' was the unanswered question at the time. Little did we know that within weeks our world would turn upside-down. Bec and I have talked about this a few times, and we always come to the conclusion that we just had to get on with it. We were like ships passing in the night - I would do the daytime shift and Bec would do evenings in the hospital with James. Poor Dan had to fend for himself - with the amazing support of Bec's Mum and Dad and my Mum at the time.

There are no 'How to' guides or instruction sheets for this. We just had to put our trust 100% in the medical professionals. The majority of the personal support came from the charities. Jen and Tracey, the TCT Nurses at the QE in Birmingham were our rocks. The importance of these charities can never be understated. Without them our story would have been so much different.

The last few weeks have been a bit hectic - at home, we are still in the middle of a building site, and workwise it is the busiest time of the year. My running has been more intermittent than I would like it to be, but this WILL improve over the coming weeks. Since my last update there have been another 3 Parkruns - Worcester Pitchcroft, Edgbaston Reservoir and Oaklands. And the little milestone of my 50th birthday!!!!!

Pitchcroft was it's usual nice run. I had to do a local one that day as we were then driving down to Devon to celebrate my much, much older cousin's 50th birthday.

The following week it was back to Birmingham and Edgbaston Reservoir Parkrun. Bizarrely, having grown up only a few miles away from Edgbaston Reservoir, it wasn't until I was searching for these Parkruns that I found out that it existed!!!!! A nice two-lap run round the reservoir.

I managed a couple of runs in the following week - including a 10k run around the river in Worcester. My running isn't fast or pretty, but I am starting to feel like it is beginning to improve a little.

This Saturday it was another trip to Birmingham and Oaklands Parkrun. My geography knowledge of that part of Birmingham is shocking to say the least. I was so surprised when I ended up driving through Hall Green to get to Oaklands (it was the correct way before anyone doubts my ability to follow a Sat-Nav!!!!). My Mum grew up in Hall Green and we used to visit my Gran every Saturday. I went down roads that I haven't seen since 1981, form the back of Dad's stuffy red Chrysler Alpine!!!!! A lovely 3-lap (very warm) run. My best effort of the year so far.

The soundtrack for the last few weeks has been:

Sparks - Balls

Sparks - Lil' Beethoven

Sparks - Hello Young Lovers

Sparks - Exotic Creatures Of The Deep

Sparks - The Seduction Of Ingmar Bergman

(Very heavily Sparks based at the moment - one of my little challenges to myself was to do all of their albums before I go to see the live next week. Four to go!!!!!!!!).

Until next time, stay safe (and please share/donate if you can)

Pete xx

[shybirdmiracle]

Free Garmin map updates| my sat-nav|Map Pro Gps

The Garmin Express is a program that can be used to update and change the settings of your Garmin GPS device. To begin with, you'll need to download the Garmin Map Update application on your computer. As soon as installed, it will ask you if you want to update your Garmin device with an up-to-date software program.