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As I sit here writing this I have popped the TV on for a change, I fancied some background noise. The programme I managed to find is an old 1950’s B movie about a Plasticine monster from Venus that is set to rampage around Rome whilst the rather well spoken Army folks chase it around generally making things worse while trying to kill the poor bugger using whatever the biggest weapons they can find. Our poor women though, bless them because all they can do is stare straight ahead at the danger raising their hands to their faces and scream at the top of their lungs at the horror of it all! I mean it might mess up their lipstick or hair styles for goodness sake…where are all of the strong men to deal with the issue??
You have to love it. I often look back at the simplicity of the past compared to the present. Then I get to wondering if our grandchildren will be doing the same in another 70 years?

Still I waffle on a bit too much about this so as the polystyrene boulders fall I shall make my way back to the 110 and it’s gearbox removal.
It’s out. It’s just lying there on the ground looking at me laughing at how long it took to come out and now knowing I am shattered so it will sit right there under the 110 waiting to be dragged out by me and a friend later. Then I will get to fitting the replacement transfer box that I am collecting later this evening.

I got the bugger out using two large trolley jacks in the end. Up went one end then the other. Out came a big crowbar that was used to lever the lot to the left then the right getting clearance to drop it down. Add into the mix some large bits of wood to protect it from the jacks themselves and after thirty long fumbling minutes the damned thing finally hit the deck…out…done.



The 110 then got jacked up on the nearside to give me easier access to try to drag it all out and this led to a bit of an annoying revelation. You see now that its all jacked up on one side I think I will be able to get the engine crane in through the door…that’ll make life a little easier getting the whole lot back into place eh.



Oh and if you are wondering what happened in the film, the beast from Venus could not be killed by any weapons but the clumsy bugger fell off of the top of the Colosseum in Rome and killed itself. You would think after travelling all that way from Venus it would pay a little more attention to it’s surroundings but the 50’s women all climbed into their men’s chests for happy reassurance that the world was right once again.

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