Fuck Art, Let's Fuck.

If you can tell me this man's name, you are truly old-school.



This kidd takes nice pictures of mossy little freaks.

http://svr84.ehostpros.com/~plrds84/indexdirty.htm

All Hallows is upon us, and I'm preparing as I do every year by turning out the porch light, pulling the blinds, and starting on a six-pack. Wifey's at work and my little fellers aren't old enough yet to eat 10 pounds of candy and fall asleep in their Spidey costumes. My last quiet Halloween ever. Sigh...

The Tuesday Clusterfuck

Mister Chris built himself a 'cross bike. And when I say built, I don't mean went to the store with his credit card and picked out parts. He welded this one up with his two little hands.


This is not a good photo, but it's what I've been given to work with.
The next time I see this bike, I hope it's fucking filthy.

If you see these guys coming, walk the other way.

http://johnnypayphone.net/chvcken666/

Other news:
I've been breathing laquer fumes all day!
My banjo is broken!
One of my babies has really bad-smelling poops!

Today I got stuck in an elevator for 45 minutes.
I haven't really felt right since.

Ft. George IPA, Jubblies, and Cyclocross

The holy trinity for today.

We saddled up the family and drove 100 miles to Astoria for the Halloween version of Cross Crusade. Best Race Ever.

This is coming purely from a fan's perspective, so it really doesn't mean anything. I have yet to participate. I don't have a bike. Or legs. Or lungs.
Today would have been the day. Perfect fall weather, clear and cool, a fast, smooth course, and spooky freaks on bikes.

Just hanging out watching is worth the drive. We put the kids in the trailer and cruised around Clatsop County fairgrounds, checking out different vantage points (and the beer booth). Lots of sexy witches and pirates in the women's races. Can't go wrong with a little ruddy flesh amidst the fallen leaves...

My favorite moment was standing at the base of a run up chatting to a nice lady who was holding her 15 month-old son. Just talking about kids and the weather and she goes "Excuse me," and turns around and leans onto the course and starts screaming "Go Danny! Fucking dig, you pussy!" Then turns back to me all red faced with a big old grin and says, "I love coming out here."

Me too, lady.

We're here.

It's difficult to know even where to begin, again. Now that all of the madness is dying down, and lives become settled, routines established.
It seems silly to me that I should even bother to embark upon recording these trivialities. They are just the same for all of us. No difference.

Simple really. Get job. Get place to live. Wife get job. Ride bikes, drink beer, eat well, raise kids, try to stay dry.

The last time I felt so lucky to be in a place was in SF in the early nineties.
Every day I look around Portland, and just think about how I'm bummed that I haven't been living here for years already. Of course, the place has it's problems. My truck has already been stolen and returned less one Blaupunkt CD unit and $500 worth of tools and plus a bunch of bottles and cans (Just clap your hands...) It's been a couple of trying months. Living out of paper bags, driving too much, sleeping in weird beds.
Luckily, we've been provided with a bunch of family we didn't even know we had who've all pitched in to help us get settled. We've depended so much on our friends the last few years, there's no way we'll ever be able to repay those kindnesses. And so it goes again. Another move and major life change. Another city.

Our old pals the G's are coming up from Oakland this weekend for a visit.
I went ahead and took monday off of work, since I figure I'll be too hung over to even get to the phone for a number of days running. Those fuckers ruin me every time.

I'm starting work on our new digs tomorrow, and should be moved in in a couple of weeks. Nice, friendly neighborhood. Lots of kids. Hot tub. I plan on sitting in the hot tub all winter. In the rain. Try and stop me.