I’m back and daddy’s hungry.
Firstly, for those of you who have held out for our return into one another’s loving arms, I present to you this;
and of course, this;
Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I’ll start by saying that I can’t begin describing the emotions I have experienced as of late. With friends and acquaintances alike, there is a wild cosmic transition happening all around me. People have had profound life changes heaped upon them by the boat load, and everywhere I look, life as it was a few months ago has shape-shifted into an almost unrecognizable form.
For my part, one minute I was gainfully employed by an incredible little company, and the next I’m sitting here before you, yet again, with my hat in hand and heart on sleeve filled with so much piss, vinegar, sugar, spice, snips, snails and puppy dog tails that I’m on the verge of dropping a proverbial deuce.
Truth be told, it’s what has transpired in between those two aforementioned moments that is remarkable, and perhaps with a little bit of perspective at some point will be a tellable tale, but at this juncture I can only say that it feels pretty damn good to be back in your faces again.
So with that being said, why doesn’t somebody drop the needle on the record so that we can once again get back to business?
As you can well imagine, in my time away I’ve received the standard array of gems, and with every one that came in, my mind swelled with the options of what to do with it. It looks like the time is now to start doling them out.
I throw the words ‘love’ and ‘hate’ around with alarming frequency. So much so that one might assume they’d eventually loose their meaning.
To me they don’t, and there pretty much isn’t anything about this video that I don’t whole heartedly love;
Except possibly perhaps A) that it’s not me, and B) that it’s not real.
You can’t kill a boy’s dreams though.
However, if you subscribe to Ted Nugent’s line of thinking, you can kill a lot of stuff, and what better way to preserve it than with crappy taxidermy, or what I affectionately refer to as crapidermy®?
I suppose while we’re on the topic of The Nuge, I should include this excerpt from an article that Desiree sent to me;
“Ted Nugent, rock star and avid bow hunter from Michigan, was being interviewed by a French journalist, who was also an animal rights activist.
The discussion came around to deer hunting.
The journalist asked, ‘What do you think is the last thought in the head of a deer before you shoot him? Is it, ‘Are you my friend?’ or is it ‘Are you the one who killed my brother?’
Nugent replied, ‘Deer aren’t capable of that kind of thinking. All they care about is, what am I going to eat next, who am I going to screw next, and can I run fast enough to get away. They are very much like the French.’
The interview ended.”
Even ‘Wango Tango’ wasn’t an awesome enough song to wipe The Nuge’s douchebaggery clean.
Lets see here.. What else do I have in my sleeve? Well, the enigma knows world wide as GeneO gave me a call from a hospital bed recently describing the tube that was sticking out of his chest, which was the result of a rib breaking, scapula fracturing, lung puncturing high speed crash.
With big daddy going dooooowwwwn, and being laid up, this of course means that the peeps in the the shop are gonna have to hold the fort, but considering the fact that that when he is around is something akin to a ship being captained by a crazy person, I think they’ll probably be doing ok for the time being.
But all of that aside, those of us on this side of the fence (me) wish him a speedy recovery.
Being without a steady form of income has forced me into all kinds of creative measures at staying afloat. Aside from my burgeoning side business of prostitution, I had the opportunity to spread my wares across hill and dale at a recent bike swap in Oakland’s rapidly transforming Mosswood Park;
Though I walked away with a wad of cash, I was struck by the absolutely staggering number of kids who were just there looking for the fixed gear stuff. At any other swap I’ve ever attended, there at least was equal attendance of folks with road, cross, and/or mountain items for sale, but at this gathering you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting at least three dozen separate piles of Velocity rims, double straps, lock rings and so fourth.
‘Who’s the old guy with the single speed cross frame, Ruby forks, wool jerseys and knobby tires?’
Fortunately for me, I was reeling from such an epicly blistering hangover that all I could do was basic math, and sweat a bunch, so no one ended up getting caught in my cross hairs.
Regardless, it was great to see so many fresh faces in the bike scene, and a genuine enthusiasm I’ve not experienced in a long time.
In honor of the locale where my money was made, I stashed my bank roll in a pill bottle for safe keeping, and then shoved it in the crotch of my Y-fronts.
As soon as I arrived home I sent an email to Oakland’s park district services with a new slogan for the park that I’ve gotten a lot of milage from recently, “Mosswood Park– It’s not just for getting murdered in anymore.”
I really do think I have a bright future in wordsmithing.
On that note, my oh my has alot changed in the world since I’ve been away. There have been strides made in the art world, huge steps back in the business of health care, scientific breakthroughs, bike races won and lost… A veritable cornucopia of information and events that I’ve missed out on reporting about, not the least of which was the completion of my new boat.
I will try with all of my might to get back up to speed at reporting on the best and the worst that our world has to offer, even if it involves tracing the bold steps that the historians featured the ‘Drunk History’ series have taken;
After all, I do what it takes to convey information as promptly and factually as I can.
Trust me. I’m here for you.
Before I close this one out, I have to offer my very most profound thanks to a host of individuals who if it were not for them, I would be nowhere closer to having this website complete that we all are to becoming millionaires. I can’t begin to name names (mainly to protect the innocent) but primarily because the list is long, and they know who they are.
So to those who shall remain nameless, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Welp.. Here we are at the end of the first post of the rest of our lives, and hoping that it is far from the last. I’ve truly missed doing this with you, and am looking forward to a long and healthy position as a merchant for this bazaar of the damned.
From today forward, let us join hands in recognition of this- our alternative form of commerce, information exchange, and communication…
From this day forward let us all hail The Black Market.