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.