Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I'm taking a good long break from the computer. Just so's you know, I sort of lost the will to talk.

Now trying to write some in my little notebooks and take pictures, and look at birds with my new field glasses.

Mr. Chris came back from France and we've been taking some hard hills. I've been teaching him how to eat 3 sandwiches a day and still be lean and with a stunning bib-short tan.

Hope you all are doing okay out there. I'm better than I've been in a long time.

PS-- This blog is dead.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Snus tig's up a custom "Cop Caller" exhaust for the Ghost.

That thing about too loud vs. too old and all of that? It's true. Fuck 'em. I'm a pissed off white boy in a fast car.

A fast car with NHTSA approved child safety seats securely fastened in the back.




Sunday, May 23, 2010

Monday, May 17, 2010

Some people were born to Rock and Roll.

Anatomy of a Sunday.








I did not push it here. I did not have to push it into the shop. It moved itself, loudly, and with little chirps from the tires.

There has been some progress in this life. There are disappointments. My own failings.

But, the kids are beautiful and the car runs. Another summer looks up from getting dressed and smiles.


Monday, May 10, 2010

Friend Report

You are all Golden and I Love you.




Thursday, May 6, 2010

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Red Dot, Pink Shoes.




Tuesday, April 27, 2010

New Tuesday Schedule

It's nice, if you can avoid getting killed by thousand-pound boulders.


There is a waterfall here. It's private and you can hear the trains way down in the river gorge.


Then later: 9 little beers. All good.


Twin Turbo, Missed Shift, 253 mph.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Park Time



Sunday, April 18, 2010

Monday, April 12, 2010

When it comes down like this, look out.

Look out for me, baby. I might be driving down your street with my head on the window. I might be turning the radio off and on.

Depression like a bomb in the middle of my life. Scattering children and wives everywhere.

Shit I say, I can't believe it. Try explaining your actions later. Just try. I dare you.

I'm not as bad as you think I am, but I'm pretty fucking close.

Look out for me, baby.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

"I'm straight, and I want to take his place"

Friday, April 9, 2010

Song of Myself

Seth reads a bit of Whitman for the first time on my phone, just after 3 this morning.


Monday, April 5, 2010

Ace Hotel




Sunday, April 4, 2010

West Coast Boot and Shoe

Yeah boots.

Wife boots.


Rush To Relax, wife.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Maybe just like when you got so drunk and left your keys on the bar and couldn't get your sweater on so you threw it down and lost all your monies.

But then you got on your bike and rode home like nothing was the matter.

Maybe it's just like that?


Japanese tourists are not afraid to drink all the Shiranami you have, and then let you take a picture of their white GF1.


Big fat white guys are not afraid of four pounds of pork knuckle, stewed, dried, and then deep fried.


Thursday, April 1, 2010


George T Stagg.


Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Monocle Man

I'm bummed about Monocle Man. He's everywhere.

The bummerest part is that I might be mistaken for He.

Except that I Work in my Workwear. Or used to, at least.

Now just fetishised and fading artifacts from my life in sawdust.




Monday, March 29, 2010


Play them all at the same time.

Compost Bag

If it's 70 degrees and all of the trees that looked dead a few days ago are lurid, be sure to ride the bike to work like you always do and with

keys wallet ipod phone clogs work-shirt drink-chits all in ruck. Sing merrily the way. The sun warming your crotch. Fuck, stop for a beer because you have time but you know

already and I don't have to warn you if you live here that the wind will start at nine; blow all of the umbrellas down the street and up on the roof. Then the rain. And rain.


There's always a compost bag somewhere to keep the important parts dry.

Thanks Shayne for the photo.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Jacques Magazine

This goes out to the old boys. You know who you are.

If you're at work, you might want to wait until you get home to watch these.

Good, old fashioned Smut of the highest order. There's something really pure about this. Sexy without the gross is hard to come by (unintentional pun) in this world.

It's easy with bicycles and cars-- Not so much with goils.

Is it just me, or is the world getting kind of better?

Jacques: The Sports Issue Trailer, 'Squash' from Jacques Magazine on Vimeo.

Jacques Magazine presents Tori from Jacques Magazine on Vimeo.

Monday, March 22, 2010


So many long nights together. I been on your wavelength, girl.

See you, baby.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

beer, pig.


Big Star meant so much to me. Thank you Alex. And K for telling me to buy #1 Record.

Friday, March 19, 2010

4:51 am.

Thursday, March 18, 2010







Sunday, March 7, 2010

I'm in love with your eyes.

I'm 38 years old and moving house. Always moving. It's been a good winter. Not rained and all the cheery blossoms are out.

I'm dragging out the last of my things. it's after 2 in the morning and I have to pick up the truck at nine. 62 hours on the mats this week and I feel like a little kid.

I don't want you to expect anything from me. You remember what happened last summer when I kind of fell off the end for a little bit. It could easy happen again. You know how it works.

I got friends. Don't worry. They been coming by and dropping off things. I'm paying back my dad and the guys at work bought me and the wife a night downtown. The other wives are going to sit with our boys.

We'll go out to dinner and to The Clyde for drinks. Maybe we'll both get a minute of silence. I don't know.
I wonder if my sons would like to row out on the river. We were talking about having fat bastard kids, or Lacrosse boys, or Crew boys. The loneliness of a long-distance runner boys.

I've been wild enough for all of us and look where we landed. I want them to know how to sharpen a knife, keep the fingernails clean, lap in a valve. Play push hands. Run a mile all ruddy and blonde.
Dance the way they do now without giving two shits what anybody thinks about it.

Some things don't have to exclude the others.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Before Work, I

Ate Bunk.


Worked on fucking goddamn fucking car.


And picked up my new ruck.




Tuesday, March 2, 2010



Wife contemplates meat/cheese/fish box.


Decides to begin with soup.


Heart you, Broder.

Sunday, February 28, 2010