Smith Mine in the Rime....

So I had the chance to run out to the mine and take some photos without a tripod in the worst light available. It was really cool and freaky. Everywhere I went there was a set of foot prints just ahead of mine. And the leftovers were amazing.


So Smith Mine #4 was apparently the worst disaster in MT. And full of rime with a crazy grey background.

There had been a lot of looting already and I was actually keeping an eye out fer a wood stove or something. It 'was' there but was gone now. I imagine the rust and wood would look fantastic in a morning light.

I kept thinking that I was gonna find an arm or a leg sticking out of a pile of rubble. A fresh one too. But there were no appendages by the boilers. If I had something that I had forgotten it would be a. a friend, b. a handgun....

The parts room was fantastic. I hope Im around for the summer to do some proper exploration. ...

Texas Chilli Taster....

This is a long lost joke that Karla found backlogged on her compy. I had been asking about it for months to friends and family. I finally have it. I can now continue sleeping.

------__------

Judge #3 was an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank who was visiting
from Springfield IL .

Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili
cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment, and I just
happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to
the Coors Light truck when the call came in. I was assured by the other two
judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy. Besides,
they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted and
became Judge #3."


Here are the scorecard notes from the event:
CHILI # 1 - MIKE'S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI

Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy crap, what the hell is this stuff? You could
remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames
out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.

CHILI # 2 - AUSTIN 'S AFTERBURNER CHILI

Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken
seriously.

Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm
supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to
give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw
the look on my face.

CHILI # 3 - FRED'S FAMOUS BURN DOWN THE BARN CHILI

Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.

Judge # 2 -- A bit salty, good use of peppers.

Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like
I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more
beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in
the front part of my chest. I'm getting crap-faced from all of the beer.

CHILI # 4 - BUBBA'S BLACK MAGIC

Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or
other mild foods, not much of a chili.

Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to
taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer maid, was
standing behind me with fresh refills. This 300 lb. woman is starting to
look HOT ... just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an
aphrodisiac?

CHILI # 5 - LISA'S LEGAL LIP REMOVER

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding
considerable kick. Very impressive.

Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit
the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can
no longer focus my eyes. I farted, and four people behind me needed
paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili
had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring
beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off.
It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming.
Screw them.

CHILI # 6 - VERA'S VERY VEGETARIAN VARIETY

Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices
and peppers.

Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, garlic.
Superb.

Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous,
sulfuric flames. I crapped on myself when I farted, and I'm worried it will
eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that
Sally. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.

CHILI # 7 - SUSAN'S SCREAMING SENSATION CHILI

Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili
peppers at the last moment. **I should note that I am worried about Judge
#3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.

Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I
wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like
it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid
unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At
least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop
breathing - it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway.
If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

CHILI # 8 - BIG TOM'S TOENAIL CURLING CHILI

Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold
but spicy enough to declare its existence.

Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor
hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out,
fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's
going to make it. Poor feller, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot
chili?

Judge # 3 - No Report

Montucky....

Its great to be back. Wee little Lauren is indeed the drool monster. Drool. Drool.

Bumper Cars....

Ah, the Memories....

Snow and Cold....

Since the departure from the US to places in the world of rather quite warm to really friggin hot climates, I have missed the chill. I miss driving with the window down when other people complain. I miss the blizzards, and stashing the beer in the snow bank. Skiing and shoeing. Getting hurt and cold and wet where its hard to breathe bc the air crystallizes the remaining moisture in your nostrils. Pure awesome.

So now Im back and I work in the sultry warmth of Texas. Well that is over. Hated it. Obvious. I bought a bike and am trying to make it work in the 7000+ elevation. Jetting. Confusing as hell. I am open to suggestions. Really.

Besides this post had to wait a whole week between the time I left work and got to NE to surprise Kermit for Brians reunion in Firth.

So if I come up in elevation from texas, things are leaner, which means the bike is set too rich? But it gets real hot and pops, indicating its set too lean? No se meng? I was also thinking about swaping the wheels from the Katana to the YZ and getting plates in MT so that I have a SuperMoto bike. Or just a better handling dirtbike in the street. The things I do when Im bored. So Im gonna try the fit here in a couple. Another swap is the YZ forks to Garretts Bullitt DH frame. Itd be sweet and heavy as shit. Or maybe I could toss em on the Urban Assault.

Back to the snow…. and some bits of concern from way back. So I wanted the Canon Digital Rebel so I could start taking some more pics and sharing yadda yadda. I opted out of the $900+ Rebel and got a $300 Sony Point and shoot. And have I ever been impressed. Where it lacks is the wide angle I love so much, but makes up for it with the super macro lens where I can damn near take a photo of something that the lens is touching. That’s neat.

DJ Format.....

Let me explain my situation again. The Murphys Law of Murphys Laws. Fuct.

So buy this dirtbike. Super Sweet. Begging me to ride it everytime I look in the rearview. But I work everyday, 7 days a week. So no time for play time. I make the requests, and Garrett and Don send the reamaining gear required to ride in a false sense of security...helmet, pants, boots. Then Im supposed to take a couple of weeks off the job and work somewhere else, or not at all.

Yeah!!

Then that idea fails and I now have weekends off. Which is sucky, bc if Im here I wanna work and make some money. So I glance through the dirt magazine that Garrett threw in teh box and notice this trails course in North Texas. It turns out Red River is only 2 hours away. I do some more exploration and I find a course even closer. So Im getting more oil and filters and psyched out, then the fuckin weather happens. As of right now its 28F out, sleeting, ice everywhere. Im stuck again. No skiing, no riding. No nothin. I have beer. Im gonna drink it. But Id rather be biking. This sucks.

So in the meantime I heard this Sasha song from an album released in 2002. I dont know how I missed it or where I was at the time? But it kicks all ass. Airdrawndagger. And it 2 to 4 weeks from everywhere. I cry inside just a little bit.

So then I get on Regnyouth and am now listening to DJ Format, this mashed up Hip Hop thats fairly good if not better. Its got 2na and other J5 MCs in it. Good shit. I highly recommend.



Brother Brian sent me the new expansion pack for FEAR. And just like the name implies, its really scary. It was midnight... and there I was playing the new game with my entire scalp and neck hair standing on end and shoulders all tensed up. The room was dark and I was completely freaked out. If Mom was here shed scream every 2 minutes. I was a wreck. It was awesome. So I guess thats gonna be the rest of my day. I had a list in my head as I lay in bed but like usual, 5 minutes passed and all I remember is that Im hungry.

Sleeping....

I woke up this morning. 645am. What happened? I was in my jeans and hoody. All the lights on. Shoes on. Drool.

I just slept for 13 hours.

I forgot to have my beer.

Is that still considered a nap?

Letter from the editor...

I had made a mistake in a previous post about the nasty pink boots. I failed to mention that "Scott" the attorney was the instigator, and funder for the boot project. Unfortunately the other half of the deal was uncompleted: The ass-less chaps/boots combo for a return trip to the office or just a stroll around town.

Someday, but not today, I need to wait till the safety meetings are finished!

One Done Deal....

At first I thought it was really weird. I took a spin. Idling in 3rd I goosed it. Front wheel up about a foot and a half. I paid in cash.

--A beautiful 2004 YZF 450 with 70 hours--

Scary Fast!!

Snow in Nederland!!!!

Pics of the fluffy white crack that makes me dream crazy at night, awaiting the snowshoe to the hill, because I doubt the van is up fer a jaunt of this magnitude, 4x4 or not....

Note the snow is almost at railing height... in only 4 hours!

More as Jumbled...

So every now and then, I loak around in the shadows of my computer, searching for something that Ive never seen before (which there is plenty), or looking for something that I dont remember and might have found interesting at one point.

So Here are these tasty morsels that I found just floating around in the pics folder....

This is an image of the moon I think and the labels are the naming convention used. Now you know.

Garrett took this one. Just like his dads photo, where the fish jumps out of the hands, it happened here as well, just later. That was a great day. I wish I could actually catch fish...


This is the leftover remains from the tornado that meandered through Hallum in Nebraska and destroyed everything. Apparently there was much joy.

For Sale....

It was a mistake I know... I never shoulda.... so there it sits in the garage in Santa Fe, collecting dust, not running. You know I named it "The Bruise" after its lovely color scheme, of black blue and purple nurple. Did you know it has a sweet Yosh exhaust?

What the hell were they thinking, or better yet, what the hell was I thinking? Of course there is a reason behind this... bc if there wasnt itd just sit there and wait for me to rejet her... No no... I want a dirtbike again... and I keep finding these 450s for sale, usually bc theyre too fast for the owner, or the area has no riding, which is becoming more of a problem these days.

It wasnt Me!!

Like the last ones I posted, it is important to remember that the following story is not mine. I read it on Craigslist and am passing it on to you. I cried laughing at this one, which is strange bc I never laugh OR smile.

Enjoy!!

The Time I Lost Control of My Bowels on the Water Slide

---

Date: 2006-11-16, 10:56AM MST


My last few months have been racked with guilt and shame over a horrible incident and the need to purge myself has become overwhelming. So I turn to you for a compassionate ear.
Last summer, I took my girlfriend, I'll call her Beulah, and her son, I'll call him Eugene, to a water amusement park, attempting to nurture the bond that was forming between us. After a busy morning of paddleboats and bumper cars, we took a moment to refresh ourselves with a hardy lunch of chili dogs, cheese fries, and lemonade. Relaxing under shade trees, Eugene smiled a chili-smeared grin, as the sun cast its languid glow over the park. With the leisurely picnic ending, we hastily dispersed to the changing rooms, in anticipation of our next adventure—the giant water slide.
During our first run, I noticed a gnawing, internal discomfort, although the first sure signs of brown-capping weren’t apparent until Eugene and I climbed the half-mile of stairs to the summit, for our second run. Unfortunately, I had taken the opportunity, to wear a most-revealing, blue Speedo, in the hope of further enamoring myself to the beautiful Beulah. Lord knows, I have the body to accommodate such a blatant, public display of manhood.
However, I soon began to regret my decision, for the sharp, cut of the elastic dug into my swelling, gaseous abdomen. My intestines were bubbling like a whirlpool. By the time we reached the loading platform at the summit, I was squirming in wretched misery. Considering my options, I surmised that taking the slide was far more promising than fighting my way back down the stairs, through the crowd. Thank God I was next in line. My trouble would soon be over. The only obstacle before me was an elderly German tourist, staring pensively at the wild rapids. With obvious reservation, he shuffled slowly toward the mouth of the blue tunnel. Beyond the point of pleasantries, I bellowed, “Come on, Pops! Shake a leg!”
Turning toward the acne-pocked boy who was managing the ride that day, he made a feeble attempt in his native tongue to communicate his apprehension. I had no other choice! The brown star pulsated—nearing supernova. The manager boy recoiled in shock as I pushed the old man down the slide, headfirst. Cursing me with hostile foreign jibberish, he disappeared around the first turn. In an instant, I followed, hurling myself down the slick, plastic vortex.
The fury of the slide was incredible. Rolling and spinning, I gathered speed quickly. The angle of the chute dipped to nearly seventy degrees, increasing my velocity as I careened from side to side, the water turning to white, angry foam. Ricocheting from a high, banking wall, the impact smashed me like some fecal-laden pinata. I lost control, discharging a foul, liquid trail.
A child screamed somewhere behind me, as I slid toward certain humiliation below. Frantically, I grabbed at the back of my Speedo, in a desperate attempt to flush myself clean. To my dismay, a fetid school of dung-guppies spilled into the churning maelstrom.
Nearing the final turn, the old man was standing upright in the tunnel in front of me, I’m sure, to exact some sort of revenge. His sinewy muscles were tensed, rage filled his dilated eyes. But with youth, and gravity, on my side, I swiftly took him out at the ankles. A palsied hand grabbed me as we tumbled out of the chute, and into the pool.
Moments later, a wailing boy fell behind us, riding the crest of a polluted wave. Thinking fast, I collared the old man, and dragged him onto the concrete deck. A lifeguard confronted us as people ran screaming from the pool in pale-faced terror. I explained to the guard how the old man had soiled the waters, how obviously the speed and excitement had proven too much for a man of his age and condition.
Unable to comprehend my story, or explain himself, the old man could only respond with a flurry of incomprehensible shrieks, vective, and obscene gestures. I suggested that he was hysterical from embarassment and that in the best interests of everyone that he be removed from the park—immediately.
The guard eyed me with suspicion, but had no alternative but to believe my story. Fortunately, the force of the waters had washed me thoroughly of any incriminating evidence. I gathered Beulah and Eugene, and made a dash for the parking lot. I’m sure the truth eventually surfaced, but not until we were safely on the interstate, heading back home.

A Must See....

Yalls better take a look-see!!

"StrongBadEmail"

If....

If I were to get something new? *Dreamy*


Itd be between the Honda and the KTM 450s, I mean its a mud rocket for only a couple 7 thou!!
Anyone can afford that right? No!

So Im gonna settle with no bike until I can afford an XR400, which isnt on the website. but perhaps the most durable and diehard bike Ive ever had, riden, drooled upon.

In retrospect, I have regretted some decisions of the past, hence I must get this 449cc of combustable single cylinder action workin for me. Sooner. I guess Ill just have to cut the top off the van....

Slowly But Surely, Getting Ready For Dirtbike Season....

I found some super retro boots from probably the early 90s. Theyre the top of the line for 1991. You can tell by the extreme over usage of contrasting pink and purple on a white leather foot encasement. Lots o' plastic too. Never been used.

Real fugly.

As I wear them around the office on a saturday I am reminded of what this really is. Not a walking shoe. Kind of a ski boot. No Traction. Minimal comfort. High output.

I think this is one of those products that wear in slowly. When finally worn in to marginal level of comfort, 5 years later, its time to get a new pair anyway. So all the pain for nothing. The worst example of that I can think of is a bike saddle. The tiny tender piece of skin on your ass that takes all this punishment to make the seat fit. When its the seat that it reshaping your taint ("chode" in the midwest).

Now all I need is a bike. I think the selections Ive narrowed it down to will come tonight.

As you see in the background I have rebuilt a collection of TV substitutes, begining with a David Sedaris book that makes me chuckle. An author that JennyR in Egypt introduced me to, as I peed my pants in laughter. This one is super good as well, as I rolled around the motel in tears at page 2.

Craigslist - Golden Moments

Ok this is the two funnier excerpts from Craigslist that I can remember. It may be NSFYM but this is what keeps me laughing and crying the night away like last night, as I stared into the void at 4 am. Enjoy!!

But Id like to introduce you to a couple of the worst Santa photos ever. If you find yourself in THIS Santa land be scared!!

Dudes, don't shower/shave with your kitten...

---

Date: 2006-10-20, 3:41PM EDT


I have this cat whom I found as kitten, too young to have been weened properly and sick - without intervention he wouldn't have survived on his own much longer. I nursed him back to health, had to hand feed him for awhile, and I became very attatched to him. He's now really healthy, a beutiful orange tabby and we get along great, but our relationship hit a very rocky point one morning. We've patched things up, reasonably well, but memories of this particular morning will always haunt us - particularly me.


But now the point: I shave after I get out of the shower. I throw a towel around my waist, but other than that I shave naked. Like I said my kitten - let's call him Butters - is hanging out in the bathroom the whole time. At this point he's maybe 4 months old, still young, but full of energy. He's playing, doing his thing, and eventually he starts rolling and playing around my feet. 'How sweet,' I think. 'This is a great cat.'

Next thing I know i'm on the floor, curled in the foetus position with blood dripping down my chin from a razor cut and Butters is hiding out behind the porcelin throne, starring at me with huge, dialated eyes.

yeah, he went there.

Dangling objects + kitten = kill.

For those who still haven't caught on, while playing around my feet Butters must have looked up and seen the ole' twig and berries, and decide that it would be a great idea to give the danglies a swat. He had good aim - very good aim...

I don't understand masochists.

---------

DO NOT EAT PRINGLES FAT FREE POTATO CHIPS. THEY WILL GREASE YOUR ASS.

---

Date: 2006-07-17, 2:10AM PDT


Don't even fucking say a word. I like potato chips, and can't eat them very much or I'll get fat.

I tried out these Pringles Fat-Free chips because they were super low-cal. BBQ flavor. the fuck.

The can said they had 70 calories per serving, which meant the whole can had 490 calories inside total. I could munch through a can in a day with my lunch, dinner, etc. So I got several cans, and began enjoying one a day for the past four days. But what they dont fucking tell you...

Except in tiny print you cant read without a fucking electron microscope

...is that the primary ingredient is something called "olean" which I have since learned is Latin for "Unwashable & Indestructible Ass Grease."

Oh Yeah. I'm not even kidding.

So today, while I'm standing in the living room debating whether or not Laundry or Dishes will get done first, I get the urge to fart. I live alone, so sweet. I let the honk loose and its wrong. Something just sounded wrong. I know my own wind, and I have never farted a sound that sounded like a fart wrapped in a pillow.

Oh yes, something was very wrong. I had just shat myself. But this evil olean makes shitting yourself sound almost like a regular fart, and had I not been particularly attentive, it could easily have gone unnoticed, I'm telling you. THAT's how utterly covert and evil this olean stuff is. What the fuck?! What if I'd gone out to hang with friends or gone for a drive, what then?

So I walk carefully to the bathroom and disrobe. before I even sit on the toilet, I wad paper and carefully wipe from the front. Sure enough, it was light brown, and had the texture of soft spackle. You fucking Pringle bastards.

I sat down and pushed a bit, and lo, out came a jet that I didnt even feel an urge for one minute earlier. It piled in the bowl like brown marshmallow fluff.

The problem rose when I tried to wipe. I went through a whole fucking roll of TP and could not get it all off me. So.

I jumped in the shower. Yep, its gross, but it had to be done. There I stood, water pouring down, cheeks spread, and using my own hand to make certain I'm clean.

That was when I discovered that after using my hand to wipe myself (before I soaped the area) my hand came back covered in some sort of transparent grease. It was so fucking foul. The grease made water bead off my hand. It was tacky too, and very difficult to manage.

So I grabbed the bar of saop and went to work.

You fucking Pringle bastards.

The bar of soap came away coated in grease as well, and would no longer wash. I had to turn the water to hot and massage the soap for five minutes to get it to the point where I could use it again. It took me an hour to get the fucking grease off my pucker. I shudder to think of what its doing INSIDE ME right now, but I will damned sure never eat that shit again.

Fucking Pringle bastards.

This is where the joke about "anal leakage" came from. its real. Fuck Pringles.

To be back in the flow...

To tell ya the truth, Texas isnt getting any better. I went and rode a Mopac trail here to gps some culverts and came across many startling eyeopeners.


1. Im outta shape already. I mean I was slow in NE but this is rediculous. This Tejas home cooking is bad news.

2. Dead cows attract vultures. This I knew, but isnt 30-40 a little excessive for a calf? I mean that burger musta been gone in like 30 min.

3. Parked Toyota vans look abandoned. And I met the sheriff at the same time!

4. This trail goes nowhere. Has nothing on it. Costs like 5 bucks, that I "forgot" to pay. And is boring like the rest of Tejanius.


5. Answer this question: Where are the "Cliffs of Insanity"?

6. Why am I still here?

More Posts...

I need to put some more of these things up. So I start here:


The origin of things Globulous...

The mystery Eight....
Im also going to make a sweet collage of all of my photo IDs. Just to prove that I really should be an undercover agent. And to show the effects of ageing are grossly overexagerated....Soon!!

2+ Months in a Motel....

Some places you meet the weirdest people. I would say for sure that this stupid motel is a hot spot for the unlikely, and combined with texas, you have a recipe for crazy dreams.


I woke a couple of weeks ago to a couple north of me humping. I think the walls on the other side of the building are a little thicker. Then about ten minutes later a southbound couple begain the morning wail. I wish I smoked. The whiskeys all gone.

Theres a group of complete strangers doing something?: big city black guy with gold teeth inthe whole front range, ACDC longhaired whiteguy, the moron cowboy, the skinny black kid, and the trucker looking dude. I try and avoid that window. Its always open inviting a glance inside. I looked once. I'll never do it again.

Crazy drivers.

My bed is made everyday.

The indians who run the show are actually awesome. And they set off the fire alarm with their cooking. $500 a pop when the fire truck shows up. Note to self.

My bed has three pillows. Menage a trois I think is the plan. In this town its a scary plan.


The mini coffee maker. An oddity of itself. Half broken, half working, a big electrocution hazard when it keeps falling into the sink. I dont know how the carafe hasnt broke yet? Hawaiian blend in the giant bandit pouch. Gross. I bought my own.

The porjecto seems to slow as the seasons holidays start piling up. I wonder where all my saved money has gone to. Loneliness in a dry county is parching. Its also fattening. I feel something special around the lower parts of my ....OMG....yep, those handles are there for the gripping.

I wish I was skiing. Biking. Diving. Sleeping.

Pathetic.

This country gives me the heebie jeebies. I must seek something better, faster, wetter, colder, higher. The eternal search and its queries seem always just out of reach. Almost there. And then Bush happens.

I cant wait.

While I was waiting I found a long lost pic in the email archives. You shall enjoy. Brian almost burnt the house down lighting the feather thing on fire. My boyscout stuff went up in flames with the cabin at the churchy campy thing.


Enjoy

The Amazing Asphault DH, aka Bunny Ears!...

Wildland Fire....

I gots the Shiner in my hand and was just hanging out with the mexicanos trying ot pick up on some espanol that I forgot. Like all of it. I can still speak smack though. Entonces revista su repuestos....

Im getting reassigned, in theory, to a new position as a supervisor . Y un nuevo projecto en California, yeah. As the new super I get to bounce around projects around the states and check up on my GIS'lings and keep the flow flowing. I like the travel bit. Good stuff.

I also looked into buying a 4x4 and found a Frontier 2002 for 6500. Sounds good until I looked at the odometer. WTF does 290,000 mile really mean? I do know that the Nissan 4banger back in Ne has about 350k and it still drives like when I bought it.

But the times back in good ole Braski were loaded with cycling and the cure to a dry palate, pitchers. And then what you dont want to do follow those 6 pitchers of IPA with a fishbowl of sex on the beach....sorry Damon. And thanks for the couch. And after the wilderness ride my BB has never been the same.

So heres a random bit from the heartland: (maybe later...)

Working on It!!!

Damn, dog?

Im going to California soon....

Meat Market....

A couple things in the recent events of my life have brought me to this two word title. Allow me to emancipate your minds with my total confusion and excellent use of the english language in the only the most dispicable ways.

Weatherfords total lack of life drove me to the gaming scene, because I dont really want to drink and drive. And Im not talking about World of Warcraft. I just likethe simple FPS games running around in maps shooting and capture the flag stuff. But this game that Brian got me is rediculous. FEAR will leave you pretty scared after playing the game and then you get online and it gets all gorey and gross and explosive. fun. time consuming. life consuming.

Im only part way through that book still, btw....

Last night Damon and I got into the whiskey and then headed downtown for some last call beers. We met some friends and were enroute to a house party when I meet this guy in the alley. He sticks out his hand and asks for directions. His hand is covered in blood. yadda yadda yadda...and it turns out this guy got caught in a bar fight split his head open on the corner of a brickwall, bleeding profusely everywhere. Whoa. We get him to his house where, when we go in the front door one guy is watching porn on the projector, the other roomies are doing some crazy drugs and it all went south from there. I hope the guy faired well bc I split. I wish I had a handgun for that situation. Btw, those roomies suck.

Next is the movie Departed. A must see. with scene that really shocled the shit out of me. Im still braindrained. I dont get it. Someone needs to verify that it is the way it is...

Whoa, 4am is not the time to go to bed.....

Sandbox....

I just ran across the pics from that ride I went on. Happy disappointment. So as you can see in image one that the drive there was full of hills and scenery, so I knew the ride was going to be at least that good or better.

Well it turns out I was right. No hills. No view of the godforsaken lake and plenty of sand. I found a neat little rock bit and got excited and started peddling and missed it. Bc it was so small. I hit one of the rocks and jumped it and got like 3 feet of air.

But never underestimate the van. As I prepared for this ride I jammed out in the parking lot all alone, a select feature that would plague me this fall as I took a job in Texas unknowingly. Retarded. I am. I found that my mtb is breaking too. So thats Special, with a crack under the seatpost and blowing out rear shock. Tickle me purple.

As you may notice the trail on the map looks decent. I was unsure of my fitness to finish some of it before it got dark. To my amazement I did all the looops in about 45 min. In the horse chundered sand and goat head soup. The good hardpacked stuff was so in need that I flew over em to rejoin the sandy bits in dismay. Touche, I one-upped myself.

And goatheads beware, you have a tire perforating brethren. Sons o bitches. Or properly pronounced "bit'thes" when that wall of grafitti comes to mind. Go to School. Put the meth down.

One of the super cool I saw was a pitviper rattlesnake. I tried to get him to bite my tire but it was too cold for him the be pissed off. The other was the dual prop helicopter dropping the paratroopers out near me. I gawked in cottonmouth sun sweaty sandy britches. Twice.

But the ranger lady was good and I left with a palatte of unsurpassed confusion. My 5 bucks really went the distance. I mean everywhere else in the world this stuff is free. Arkansas or bust.

Rejected...

I talked to Garrett the other day, and he was all excited about the rejection letters we got for the horrible county GIS job that we no longer wanted. And from that I pass it on to you in a manner fit for niceties and sweets and all things furry:

An explaination...

So you have that big seismic buggy yeah. It weighs in at 60000 lbs. It has, as noted in correctly previously, 36 or 42 inch WIDE tires. The footprint of said tire having a ground pressure of no more than 16psi. My bike tire is pumped to 40, por ejemplo. Not that those two have anything related except that they both have wheels. That turn.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, the two engines burn diesel. One to move and one to vibrate the pad hanging in the middle. Put the pad down so the buggy is almost off the ground and rev that motor. if you look at the points on the map, linear ones are recievers and they stick in the gound surrounding he vibes and listen. sorta. Kinda. maybe. And this is how you get a 3D undergound geologic formation map. That you cant see or buy bc you dont have enough money. Thats about it.

As a tangent, I would like to play some ultimate like the good ol days back in the country village of Cairo.

This is what it looks like when someone messes up data points. Uh. Yep, thats about it.

Kinky....

A couple of things from the semihomefront. Dont even think for a minute that I waould call this place home....That said, work is hectic, shits going down out in the field as some surveyors were arrested for trespassing because of poor mapping. Not mine though. Whoosh. And who has the best campaign artist? Kinky Friedman, a comedian. Havent been to the gym yet, but the diet has been improved by less texan homestyle cookin and my body has rejoiced. 1/2 gallon of yogurt in the morning and wow. Or moo.

Escapism....

Luckily I didnt go postal, I went to Austin, and it is everything people say it is. And I just found a friend from Santa Fe here on the internet. I hope hes hope hes home. I always crash on that couch. Anywho....I have to attempt a ride in the mud aftermath of a 5in storm and had to come all the way to Austin some 3.5 hours to find out about trails 20min from Weatherturd.

Life be interesting, Im on the Hunt for Mr Bedrosian.

And theres SNL Jeopardy skits on Metacafe!!! I peed may pants this morning.

Suck it Trebek!

Porn.....

I get an allotted amount of time to sit around and dream. My gas costs are paid and I have nowhere to drive. But I still think on two wheels and so 12oz curls. So all I think about is dirty porn. The kind that takes four strokes at a time to burn the weasel. Leaving a trench or a slick and tossing my shoe off at the same time. Bending the butterbars. Keep it forward and aggressive. Just keep dreaming....

Thats the KTM I was talking about. Thats my inner thigh massage. The burning. I still cant believe theres nothing to do here in Weatherturd. I mean for the love of all that holy, this shouldnt even be a resident villa. More of a hole in the ground. A dry hole with an age gap ten years or more on either side of my own. It makes for interesting reading though.

Nothing but Net...

So being here with camera I figured should use it. I found another donut shop in another town with the same sign and now for all to see is the face of burden at work on a good day.

The Hunt for the Damn Donut...

So I went driving around. I was on a fullscale donutshop hunt. And I only found one. Wah? I swear there were like 12 last time I looked.

As well I took that photo and fixed the shadows and sun, but I guess not.

In an effort to become occupied I went and tried enrolling to a GYM. I was scared. I tried going to a gym in Cairo but couldnt really do it more than 5x. In fact I really just want to get in a super strong state of being so that I can kick ass on day one back on the slopes, quite unlike the pain and fatigue of skiing in Lebanon. Yup, that would be good. The trainer lady I talked to did say there was a biker community 7 miles east of here. Really? So Im fixing my ride to go and make a positve showing and kick some roadie ass with a mtb.

Just like my mom and I did, Im doing a serious CSI marathon everyother night. I can pack away about 3-4 of em. Though this last summer I got hooked on some medical show called House, and Im gonna go and buy the season, watch it and send it east, way east.

KTM 450 sx-f ....plan to ride soon. Jasons 8 cooling units....plan to quenched of thirst.

Guess Who....

We have a new menber to the Red Lodge Team, 10-4 Good Buddy!!

Sonya and Garrett have been gifted with a daughter of endless beauty, slobber and hair!!

The combination of two full headed kids becomes them. Awesome. I cant tell but she looks like a curious lass, like one of the all nighters perhaps. Interested in where to drool next....beware. Congrats!!!!!!!!!!1

The Sleeping Monster....

Holy schnikes,

I just slept from 6pm last night to 5am this morning. I guess that dairy queen stuff is heavy. Does anyone want to visit and trash a hotel room with me? Its all paid for. I have a mini fridge.

Ugh.

Weatherturd....

Theres really not much else I can say. Theres still no bars. I found a replacement for entertainment and it comes in the form of Chillis resturant. I thought it would be lame, but I was highly entertained by the Louisiana guy talking about getting drunk in Fort Worth and so on. And I expressly remember asking ot have my salad tossed, I mean, brought out before the meal, of "I didnt know steaks came that small?" So when she brought it afterwards and replied, "oh, I forgot" I chuckled deep inside with a thirst for a taller beer. I bet you didnt know that to drink here you have to fill out paperwork, and get a card, that allows you to do so. Ummm, yeah?


And soon I will document the spatial anomoly of donut shops in town.... Tons of em.

So there I was picking out the goat heads from my tire, still inflated, and there was this biggun. I was quite amazed that I hadnt gotten any flats yet as the tire was covered in em. The epoxy hole patch is still joined to the duct tape and all is good there, but then.... I saw a huge intact goat noggin and pulled only to hear ssssssssssssssshit. Now flat, no tools from Garretts garage, no bike shop in town or the county, or any other bikes for that matter. I was fuct. But this was after the look of shock as I passed the dually diesel death machine going 45mph. I dont think this guy had ever seen a person ACTUALLY pedal a bike before. How odd?

And then, I tried to look for a car adapter for my lappy to no avail. It needs a shoebox sixed power converter to plug into. OMG? But it doesnt mean that the realtime mapping isnt going to happen. Im excited and I left my boots at home. Oooops. In fact I dont know how these guys have ever mapped anything before me and ESRI came along? Its like theve never seen the real deal. I dont get it? I dont care. I have some cousins of anheuser busch here where the can says Texas on the label. Neat.

OK Then...

I just wrote the most amazing entry about my shitty day. And now its gone because I chose to restart the damn lappy.

Anywho this is work and hotel, two of the least interesting places in my life. And Im gonna buy that friggin KTM weatherford you like it or not.



And my neck back leg thing is better. Even the goldfish have expressed their enjoyment of the waffles.