Monday, June 30, 2008

86 Degrees, Thunder, and Lightning.


Radical weekend.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

I'm the best man.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

This is Theo Bos motorpacing up to 140 kph.

Do the math, son.


Friday, June 20, 2008

Well, I've been busier than a set of jumper cables at a Mexican wedding.


Sorry for the long delay between posts. The weather has been fine, and the schedules have changed, which means less time stuck in the house, and more time out tearing shit up.

Much shit has been torn in the last two weeks.

Firstly, the new job. Nice to be in a busy bar full of non-fuckhead-type people.


The only person who has really annoyed me so far is the customer with "VEGAN!" tattooed, badly, across the side of his shorn head.

Ah, Portland.

Good times and good money and good goddamn Frito pie.

The wednesday series up at Mt. Tabor has been a fuggin hoot. I aint racing. I can barely ride up that hill the one time it takes to get to my rock where I sit with a bunch of other smelly lowlifes, drinking beer and heckling the riders. They love it.


It's been kinda sweet watching the messengers and the cat 2 roadies duking it out in the fixed class. There are some fast fuckers up there, no mistake.


Summer just came like a shot to the crown. It's only 80, but since none of us are really acclimated yet, it feels way too hot. Couple weeks though, my farmer tan will be in full bloom, and I'll be feeling it.

Shit just got real with the belated discovery of the taco truck on 50th and Division. Soyrizo burritos are fucking killing it. Trust me. I am the burrito snob of all burrito snobs. I've been burning a torch for the taco stand around the corner from my house in north county San Deigo for 18 years, and not even 15 years of SF Mission food has been able to douse that fire. I'm a picky bitch, and so far every "mexican" food experience in Portland has been some kind of cruel joke. I shall suffer no more. Gracias, el Gordito. Muchas gracias.


Monday, June 9, 2008

Big shouts to Jonny Hamachi ( for coming up with these clips. Adam5100 is no joke, and I felt like I needed to put these here to help get the word out.

Yes, I'm a bartender again.

You try to get away. You retire, You drink your last free shot of tequila and break up with your drug dealer and take that white towel out of your back pocket and drop it to the mats. You say goodbye to all the sad-sack dudes and the good-time girls and count out that big stack of wet stinky bills for the last time. You leave it. You move to the country, have a couple of kids, and start seeing the sun rise thru the windshield of your truck with a cup of coffee, instead of with a pool cue and a pack of exports and the last of the blow burning a hole in your shirt pocket.

You hang out at the feed store, and drink beer at home under the big oak.

And, because they mostly always do, things go to shit. So it's another city, another group of friends. Different ways. Different means.

I got no room to bitch. The world has been kinder to me than I ever deserved.

Fuck it, I'm going back in. Wish me luck, bitches.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

And still it rains.

I've been in the shop for the last couple of weeks, and man, has it been nice. Riding my bike to work every day instead of getting on the freeway has been a revelation. I did have to put $20 in the tank of the Saturn yesterday. Got a whole 4.3 gallons, too.

In a way, I'm sort of happy this whole gas crunch is finally here. It's not like none of us knew it was eventually going to come down like this, and I figure the short, sharp, shock is probably the best way for it to be. Which is easy for me to say, since I don't really have to drive much, love being on my bike, and have excellent public transit at my disposal. Not so for the great majority of people struggling to stay afloat in rural areas nationwide.

The hope is that this may be the beginning of the consolidation of resources, and a way to rethink how transportation, especially as it applies to our food, is managed on the whole. Many, many people are going to suffer while these transitions are made, most of my family included.

Strange times.

0Oh yeah, speaking of strange times, gObama! (tm)
Looks like my man from Illinois has wrapped things up as of today. We'll see if what's her name actually concedes tonight, or if she's going to continue to screech about the Michigan and Florida delegates.

Don't go away mad, Hil. Just go away.

Horrifying accident in Mexico.
I've driven thousands of miles in Mexico over the years, and any time the thought has ever entered my mind that I might take a bicycle out onto those treacherous ass roads, an image something akin to this one has flashed into my mind:

Bad fucking deal, all around I'd say.

So, I'm talking to a guy tonight about taking on some bar shifts. I don't really want to, but I also kind of do. Mainly as a social outlet and to make some friendly connections in my relatively new city-- But also for the scrillas!
Pefect bar, too. Great space, cool owners, pile of bikes by the front door, hotrods in the lot, vegetarian menu. Working there would up my cool-factor 6.37%. Which is alot, considering where it is right now.