i'm not going down with the ship

well hole-ee-sheet!  tonight's the big night.  there's gunna be boobies all over Bourbon Street, tickers and tapers celebrating among the hookers and hobos of Times Square, fireworks, shotguns, and people blowing shit up and pyromaniacs will run like wild fire where ever they can find anything that will burn.  there'll be steers and queers, bears and beers, pukin pill poppin profilactic snappin' fun littering the topsoil of most every place on earth that has cell service.

waffle house will be awash with hangovers looking for greasy ease, and blood shot eyes will seer with the rise of the new day's sun.  vomit and spew, and diarrhea too, those with a mission will find that submission to the porcelain god will ensue.  the aftermath will leave resolutions the way of the dinosaurs when the run on pregnancy tests happens in a couple weeks.  we know how to party, and no one is safe.

and you know what that means?  that means tonight is amateur night.  as in a vast majority of those rockin' with Dokken are by no means seasoned, or even competent.

and thanks to technology, it's all gunna be at our finger tips.

i can't wait to witness the new year unfold, with a cup of morning joe and the internets.  i would like to give a heart felt thank you, to everyone, for what they are about to do.  thank you.

and with that, here is yer annual public service announcement:

2012 is about to give its death gurgle.  and in just a few short hours, it's gunna be 2013!  everyone from the prez of amurika, to the security guard at the parking garage is gunna be on high alert.  orange i think.  so with that in mind, i'ma gunna be kind.  here's a touch of advice, that just should suffice, in the event you need a retainer.

don't do anything stupid...   unless of course, it is totally fucking epic.

happy new year...  now what?

indecent exposure can be uplifting

so i sat down and pecked out this post about how life is short, you have choices, live life to the fullest, blah blah blah.  it was chock full of *inspiring words and phrases, soft spoken humor, but mostly feel good bullshit.

i'm not gunna hold yer hand in this.  you are all adults... or you are snot nosed little pains in the ass looking for fun because you are too young to drink and to old too play in the street.  either way, if you actually are relying on my feeble little prose to wake you up to the fact that yer current situation sucks donkey balls, that is just too much responsibility for someone of my caliber.  i can not even spell for god's sake!  only you can prevent forest fires, as well as dull and boring lives.

(for those of you who are fundamentally happy and your current situation does not, in fact, suck donkey balls, i am quite happy for you.  now just click this, close this turd, and enjoy your day.  thank you.)

where was i...

how's about taking a chance?  huh?  why not?  there are so many excuses, but oh how fun it's gunna be when you are old and grey, sitting around the rest home (which is so someone other than family can wipe your ass) handing out disgusting, wrinkled smooches to people that are enduring out of commitment.  you'll be so happy while you grasp at all the tokens you never cashed in.  please, feel free to hoard all the memories you never had.  those days when you shoulda done this or that, or some other thing.  whatcha worried about kids?  failing?  yeah well, if you don't eat shit once in a while, you'll never touch the sky.

couldn't have said it better.

speaking of which, the weekend is here, as well as the new year.  bringing all kinds of anticipation of resolutions packed with stipulations for changing your life for the better... in the future... if it all works out to be the right place at the right time... with the right whatever excuse you can come up with to stay in your stupid condo starring at instagram and wishing.  well guess what buddy, it will never come with a ribbon and bow.

shit.  you could die at any time, simply because the brain surgeon next to you on the white knuckled interstate commute just can't disconnect from their smartfone long enough to realize they are about to slap a tractertrailertruck right-smack-dab in the middle of your forty-five minutes of all brake and all gas dance contest, only to deliver an audience of droopy-eyed spreadsheets and other people's problems for ten hours before you about-face right back into the morning's mayhem... all just to watch the world go by again and again and again and again.... 

then again, you could get lucky.

so hows about you try something different for a change?

i invite you *jump off a cliff.  ride yer bike.  *go hang gliding.  buy a goat.  *take a piss in the middle of a public park during youth soccer practice.  or hell, take one of those "Travel Adventures" where somebody follows you in a van, sets up and packs down your gear, and pampers yer ass while you stroll through the country side like a hairclub ad.

hairclub.com  if it helps you truly live a better life, i got yer back

and there you have it.  *i can only hope you are now inspired to think up something totally stupid to do, and then try it.  *then do it drunk.  who knows, you might just walk away with a wonderful accomplishment to look back on fondly, and a good scar on your face to remind you how much fun it was to get it.

*denotes sarcasm and/or a description of an activity that you should not actually take part in, as it is a joke, if you just couldn't figure that one out.

everyday's a holiday

so i found myself in north Georgia.  just couldn't pass up the chance to head out of town for the weekend to ride up for a while, and ride down for a while. 

*"while" is used simply because that's about how long it is in comparison to the adolescent pimples we crest daily here in Nashvegas.  sorry kids, KOM don't mean shit here in acne land.  go earn it, punk.

an opportunity to get tired of coasting should never be frowned upon...   the below digitally enhanced photograph is but one of the sights one can enjoy while ascending, or descending, for a few miles in the parts kin to the end of the AT.  the climbs were climbs, gracious with pain and budding with agony.  what goes up, must flow like ribbon draped along the contours of the glacial gift, interrupted only by the studder of washboards and the melting of newly laid gravel while pinning the turns.  the kinetic energy bound in the wheels throwing you into the next rise.  which is the definition of bliss.

i have to say, as much as i have enjoyed the local and regional rides and trails and hills and dales, there is something about mountains that i'ma gunna need more of...

there was also this little gem right around the time you cross the border and back.  another trail i had been hearing about, but hadn't the opportunity to enjoy.  there's lotsa new stuff going on within just a few hours of where you live, no matter where you live, that you should take a weekend to explore.  remember why you started riding anyway... because you were to young to drive, and too old to play in the street.  take advantage of it now.

and speaking of playing in the street, Jut rolled into town for a quick ride with the remaining and un-detained crew to enjoy a little bike and beer time travel.  so good to get to ride with some of the oldies.

memories of tearing through downtown following the lines of those with decades of repeating the same steps to re-entry was almost artistic.  starting as a snap through a changing light, we would charge four or five blocks in a blister of curb transitions to loading docks and moguls of landscaping tied to back sides of raised lots.  a quick jaunt across the river brought us around many of summer's night haunts long since passed.   it is interesting the way my riding has changed in those years since.  i've gone more for speed and distance than attempting flight.  not sure if it's age, or the yearning for a more tangible and lengthy flow, utilizing the traffic controls to garner place in line.

after all this fun, why the hell not go to the airport?  and hey, let's make it frightening!

 

my brother came to town for the holidaze, which is always nice.  the old man picked me up and hauled me kicking and screaming to the airport to pick him up.  pops is, well, kinda a scary dude behind the wheel.  it's as if he feels he is alone to utilize all four lanes, including those designed for approaching cars, at his sole discretion.  i'm so looking forward to the day we have to revoke his car keys.  it'll be one hell of a fight.

we motored into piles of artery clogging, salt infested, coronary surgeon's daughter's tuition to Brown funding, carnival of culinary kick-ass-country cookin'.  one thing the ol' folks casa stocks is tons of vein plugging victuals (which everyone spells as vittles).  i myself, produced a twelve pack and a flask for me and my sibling to enjoy onced all the elderly and yungins retired after the evening's adventures of eating and big screen tv-ing.

 

back at the shophaus, i sat back and started pecking this post.  but then, i thought, you know what, i should do something nice.  i should be thankful for all i've received.

so being the giving season i started to think, and took the bearded wonder elf out for a drink.  he wove tales of you slepping while he sniffed of your hair, locking lips with yer mom in her underwear, stealing liquor and food all over the world, to dumps without flushing and leaving the turd.  then, with his finger to his nose, he let out a chuckle, and that's when the tequila kicked in, and his knees started to buckle.

 

he laid on the floor in a puddle of piss, and all i could think was, "ain't life a bitch?"

santa is just satan mispelled

in keeping with my previous blug format of monday, wednesday, friday...  which i copied from the minister of ruin, cuz he's smart, here is your monday post.

merry X-Mas eve.

took a quick spin up to the north pole over the weekend, to visit that jolly ol' elf, who is really not so jolly 48hours out from the climax of his year.  in fact, and understandably, he was kind of a prick.  the old man isn't getting any younger, and he needs all the help he can get.  remember, when you fornicate to bring another nose-miner on to the face of this here blue dot, you are just increasing his workload.  and i think he is getting fed up.

he really doesn't like you

being unemployed, he felt bad for me (i was not good this year, but i'm cute... and that helps).  ol' saint nick threw me a bone and hired me to be his enforcer.  it's just a short lived gig, little pay, and no health insurance.  but hey, it's money.  and ms. claus can cook.  yeah, he's all union, and i'ma gunna be a scab, but i ain't afraid to cross picket lines.  stompin' elves is as easy as kicking a 2year old.  you really don't even need to wear boots.  like punting a soccer ball, it's all in the hips.

it feels good to have some for sure income.  especially when you know you can excel at the task laid ahead.  in fact, i feel so good about this position, i have already taken my employee of the month photo

so ifin you've been nice.  good on you.

been a dick?  well then, your gift from that crusty ol' bastard will be a quality visit from your favorite asshole.  i'll take a dump and not flush, pee all over the seat, leave the fridge open, drink the last beer, eat your left overs, rifle through your laundry, break your kid's toys, and likely pet your cat and/or dog after feeding them ipecac.  you earned it, santa brings it.  and it comes with christmas cheer!

so merry whateverthefuckyoucelebrate!  get ready for a festive tomorrow morning, or get the hell to the store and buy ajax and a mop.  you'll need it.

i promise.

wash. rinse. regurgitate.

every single person looked the same.  they all had that redundant, deep stare, as if they were reluctantly waiting for the one in front of them to step down in offering of the pillary.  heads in hands, fidgety bats at the controls, solemn and empty gazes, all fixed on the center of the closing tunnel, which only draws them closer to the predictable end.  all i could hear beyond the banter of the street's rhythm was the occasional chirp of a fleeting bird, and the train announcing it's departure far in the distance.

staying fixed on the approaching swarm, performing a ballet of death defying leaps and bounds among the confines of this rushing herd, a gazelle danced within the parade of lumbering giants.  when dwarfed by the shifting mass, an effortless twitch snatched him from the grip of this ever growing tsunami of metal and fatigue.  the fringe is where safety awaits those willing to ride the wave.  there will be no overtaking this day. 

as i continued my pursuit of the retreating sun, i noticed many of those choosing to travel by foot shifted their direction toward a descending concrete staircase, which led to a highly protected and isolated arena.  i have only dealt with this type of contraption when entering or exiting high security military complexes, and wasn't sure if this particular one was designed to restrain or contain. 

one can only imagine the helplessness and fear of those truly reliant upon this level of protection from the nature of things.  lined with shatter proof glass, chain links, barbed wire, and cold steel, this is the only fresh air some have in their lives.  they remain in perpetual inclosure, from bed to car to cubicle to car to sofa to bed, all the while captivated by the brightly lit face of technology, which remains the destiny for their foreseeable existence within this self imposed confinement.

back on the trail to nowhereinparticular, i reached the apex of the climb.  surrounded by the flickering lights and festive accoutrements of the holiday season setting in, i was struck by the power of this view of the courthouse.

there is something about the back lit restraints hidden among the charms that play havoc with the true meaning of what is offered.  once the curtain is lifted, the underlying tone is not warm and fuzzy.  the compression is just constricting enough to allow breath, the bindings only small wanderings.

the chaotic and aggressive consumption of shiny shit, as apposed to memories, keeps the minds and hearts of the masses captive, and fosters the fears necessary to contain the next step in our evolution.  much like the frog in the pot that's getting hotter, i do not see tadpoles striving to find better tributaries. 

is it all over?  personally, i just don't see it happening.  i just see bikes, booze and fun on the horizon...  looking to the past to predict the future is fruitless without the lessons that come with it.  especially if those detailing the exact conclusion couldn't even grasp the fact that they were looking extinction right in the fucking face.

...and as you have nothing else to do but lament the fiscal punch in the groin coming from the unspoken commitment of procuring shiny shit for people you don't like, don yer gayest apparel, jump on yer bicycle, live to die tomorrow, and get ready to party like it has already happened.

there is a fakebook page devoted to this shin-diggery.

maybe the end is nigh.  and if that is true, you will find me sitting atop the highest point in the land.  with a case of beer, a bottle of shitty whiskey, and a bucket of popcorn, i will put forth a final and triumphant effort to destroy my liver in a single blow coinciding with the final curtain call of the meteor crashing, mass chaos, the hostile take over of locusts, nuke-you-ler smelting, or whatever the four horsemen contrived to bathe the earth free of such pests as me and my fellow man.


...or i'll wake up with the pain of my liver drying out like a beached whale, matched only by the vertigo of dehydration, and the taste of yesterdays lunch making an evening cameo.


which in fact, is both predictable and redundant.

instaflickr this

so here's my monday.

shep and i both had midday errands to attend to, so we decided it would be best to take advantage of the 60plus degree decembree day to ride bicycles to everwheres.

we went to the park first, cuz on a nice day...  you just have to visit one of the many parks and recreational type areas in the city, burg, town, or sub-division you find yourself in when you wake up.

hydration is an important part of a balanced day

over hill and over dale, stopping here and there for stuffs and things.  i pet a puppy.

on the way back, we decided it would be advantageous to pick up the pace a bit,  simple as our view from here...

was dramatically differnt than ifin we turned around and faced the other way...

 

 

we celebrated a productive day well spent being productive ...and i pet another doggie.

tuesday was just silly.

...and as i take this as serious as a CAT4-Pro, there will be absolutely no silly on this here blug.

ever.

wet, hot, dirty, and fat.

i strapped on the four hundred ton pack stuffed like santa's sleigh with everything i would need for a five day trip... for the four mile hike to where i was camping for one single night.  luckily, it had stopped raining just as i was about to hit the trail head.  with just a few hours until the deep gray sky turned black, the slip and slide on peanut butter turf was on.

with about an hour to spare, i had reached my intended destination, and i didn't even get lost.  now the hunt was on for firewood.  surely somewhere in this here buncha square miles of forest there has got to be something that will burn.  really, i'm literally surrounded by wood... not that kind.  but hey, guess what?  it just rained all afternoon!  other than the ducks and beavers, everything is soaking wet!

well kids, when i was just a wee little asshole, my old man took me under his wing and put forth the necessary effort to try and make sure i had the woodland tools and skills needed to try to get by without a search party or helicopter getting involved in my journeys.  he gave me a knife with a compass in it, some matches, asked the authorities for forgiveness, and sent me on my way with a slap on the ass and a heartfelt, "you're a man now, don't come back".

so what happened?

Fire.

that's what happened.  good ol' solid as hell, and just as hot, mutha fuckin' fire.  just a couple pieces of strategically placed cardboard and paper scraps from my pocket, and things started to heat right up.  wet wood will blaze if tackled with finesse, patience and care, all of which i do in fact possess.

as the night slothed on toward the morning, the chillin' turned to grillin', followed by more chillin', while sipping tea and wondering where the hell my flask could be.  seems i left that, along with my long sleeve wool, somewhere between the homebase, and campbase...  but neither one was with me, though i checked again...  just in case.

as the fire retreated to a kindle, and the lantern following suit, i lay my sleepy little head down in hopes that saint bourbon would grace me with a waking snort.  i drifted with dreams of rye and barley, mother nature entered the fold with just a little breeze to rustle the remaining leaves clinging on naked branches, purring me to sleep in my cozy down cocoon.

 

the next morning, after indulging gluttonously in as much of the remaining rations as possible in order to lighten the load, as well as tossing everything i didn't need into what was left of the pyre ( i even considered torching some of the stuff i did need), the trudge was on to get back in time to meet up with Glitter Gravel for an afternoon of fatbike soul crushin' and wildlife frazzlin' in other wildernesses.

 

off we went... down some random ass, muddy, puddly, fire road (where does she find this shit?).

our obese knobbies bashed through khaki puddles of muck, bombed down pea gravel slides, and plowed over thatch and thistle, hurtling us through beautiful displays of the wonders of nature.  life seemed still with our travel through this paradise, as burnt sienna highlighted crisp orange flows, morphing to brown and deep crimson swaths spread across the landscapes.  this is autumn surrendering to winter.

 

we didn't mean to burden this little dude, as he was on his way to settling down for a long winter's night.  he didn't seem to bother being lifted from his hiding place, though he rushed to find a new one as soon as his little paws touched the ground.

once out of the woods, and rain heading our way, we dashed to the closest eatery and woofed down some sandwiches and mac-and-cheese.  with the evening coming to a close, my clothes beckoning a washing machine, and my own self visually impairing those around me with my festive aroma, it was time to head to the place i currently call home.

after unpacking, sharing a post fun beer, and high-fiving my companion on the weekend's accomplishments, i fired of a quick too-dah-loo, and started deconstructing the last forty eight hours so i could bring them to you in picturesque and over emphasized verbiage.
 
and that is exactly when i remembered i had procured a new piece of art to adorn one of my beautiful steeds.

yup.  they're still coming...

making good money while sucking

them is soap bubbles from where i didn't rinse well after warshing.  i offset it with some hot chocolate mix for a hobo-mocha.  nestle took the bite out of the dawn infused bean strain, but i'm burping weird.  i wonder if farting will be effected...?

which is how i started my morning, rolling outta bed, face first onto the floor 20 minutes before the following happened.

(edited and removed because i went to far - yeah.  because i want to help them, not hurt them.  if you got to read it, yer lucky)

cuz this is the reaction i am expecting after i regurgitate the previous sentence... (i edited it cuz i deserve it)  then again, i seem to get that reaction quite a bit anyway.  i guess the future is bright and full of middle fingers.

in other news bicycle related...

by god tennessee's cyclocross state champeenshits are sunday just outside of Nashvegas.  there will be people from all over the state coming out to heckle, race, ruin, get in the way, piss serious CAT 4 pro-racers off (that are typically pissed off anyway... cuz they are just SLOW and DUMB), and bang cowbells like dinner is ready in the faces of others trying not to throw up. 

i've done this here style bicycle racin quite a few times, and sometimes i do good, and sometimes i suck.  currently, i believe i am in suck mode.  will i attend?  dunno yet.  if i do will people get angry at me... well of course, duh.  just watch out for Honey Badger pouring beer in yer ass crack and you'll be ok.

i will say this, the kids at Uphillgrind Productions really have it dialed.  the races are full of fun, the courses are always awesome, there is serious comradery, and smiles, and if you don't have fun, it is 100% your fault.  especially when the I Dream of Weenie is slingin' hot dogs and snacks while you dream of weenies...  just love saying that.

so since you really have nothing productive to do, or anything that will help society in any way, how's about you head out to them there champeenshits and make a mess of things?  how's about you sign up and try yer hand and 45 minutes of clinching yer fists, lips, and sphincter in an effort to not soil yerself while rubbing elbows with the elite adorned with Dugast and Carbon?

better yet, just go have fun.

no matter what you do this weekend, i hope it doesn't suck, unless that's how you make a living... in which case, i hope to inspire you to do your bestest and try to take the chrome off that trailer hitch.  everyone appreciates a job well done.  even johns.

get yer finger out of that

so i got me a surly moonlander.  yeah, it's big, and size does matter.  it was mostly Derf's fault, but somehow Glitter Gravel seemed to be involved as well.  she got a pug necro, and after wanting a fat bike forever, building hers, and knowing time's were about to change, followed by Derf sealing the deal with a resounding and powerful, "buy a moonlander? duh." ...all i could say was fuck it.

so a few days later i found myself pedaling 5inch tires through mud that ate the shoes off a raccoon.

we rode here and there and everywheres, over rocks, through corn fields, even jesus lizard style, giggling like little kids the entire time.  the amazing part was how nimble and confident the bicycle is, in that you just point in a direction and off you go.  it ain't fast, it just goes everywhere.

on the trail it was bliss.  however, high tech trails (super tight, twisty and all rocks and roots with a little dirt sprinkled here and there, aka east coast style) are barely effected by what this machine has to offer other than insane traction.  it was still mighty difficult to attack with the knife edge needed while perched on rubber wider than most motorcycle tires.  however, this thing eats up gravel, grass, mud, and smoothish flowing single track like you would not believe.  i can't wait to see what i can get into with this beast.

the other cool part is it evens the playing field.  i've been riding and racing bikes off road for many moons, while Glitter Gravel has only been mountain biking for a year or so.  even though our skills are dramatically different, the fat bikes allowed us to both have an absolute blast, as it is not at all about speed... at all.  do you love riding in the woods and dirt and mud and muck, but yer buddy/partner/friend/foe doesn't?  then get a pair of fat bikes and head out, you won't be sorry.

so, if you are reading this, at this point, you should just go ahead and buy one now.  otherwise, santa will stomp a puppy... and he'll do it barefoot so the face lapping toddler squishes between his toes like a bag of crunchy pudding.  if you need anymore arm twisting, just look what dirty does with his.

yeah...  just like that.

next was a few days of fuzzy, where i'm not sure exactly what happened, what was dreamed, realized, planned, or executed, but i'm still alive counting all ten fingers and eleven toes.  there was a lot of bicycle riding, beer drinking, and waking up in yesterday's clothes, but that's about all i can remember.  no cops or lawyers or judges were involved in any way, so it had to be good.

i did find a dollar, which was probably pissed upon, but now gainfully unemployed i put it in my pocket anyway... cuz a 2x4 of Yuengling is less than $3, and that's a third of the way there!

 

seems my luck has been changing for a while, and this latest event has really opened me up to so many possibilities.  why the hell would i walk away from a buck?  hell, i could buy one of these right now with my new found wealth.

last night brought me to Music City Cycling's X-Mas Red Bench Ride Special.  a zip around town as fast as those little hipsters can pedal with some stops for whiskey, beers and stupidity.  at the end of this trail of tight pants and knog lights, seein' as i had nothing to lose, ripe peer pressure, group involvement, and more than enough liquid courage flowing through my circulatory system, i made the feeble and awful attempt at belting out Alien Ant Farm's cover of Smooth Criminal on the karaoke machine at Santa's Pub.  this was followed by two tone def duets with Chase (who was killing it) that brought on tears of fear, disgust, and horror at the cacophony of howls bellowing from my face hole... which in turn slingshot me into the end of the evening with buckets of love and affection.

the 25 degree ride was enough to sober me up just in time to get home and pass right the hell out, but not without making sure the new neighbors know who's living in the cellar down the street.

lock up yer daughters... i'm back.

and so it goes.

if you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.  - Loa Tzu

time to start sharpening and honing things that are mightier than the blade.

the world changes daily, and with the invent of mr. gore's tubes, it seems as though it is becoming more obvious.  this is because people who think alike all over the world are beginning to have the ability to communicate on an immediate and conversational level.  the days of writing a letter, mailing it, waiting anxiously for a response, of which must be answered...  rather time consuming...  is now happening as quickly as one can press the enter key.  think of the retarded nature of pony express, or even information traveling within the bow of an ocean vessel ebbing across the sea.  what we have at our fingertips is absolutely amazing, and quite powerful at that.

it is with this i invite you to join me on my experiences for the foreseeable future.  sure, some are going to suck, some grand, and a majority likely tolerable to mundane if not simply bland.  but the curiosity and vicarious voyeurism that is born from the ability to look deep into one's life without ever seeing them in person will hopefully keep it interestingly enough...