Bones

Tristan’s crawler stopped on a worn ridge with a view of bones. They had been a metropolis, once, before civilization retreated and the weather went mad; though it was the retreat of civilization, more than weather, that had destroyed this particular city. Elemental forces, time–they’d stripped the skin, though Tristan hardly gave it more attention than a convenient waypoint. It’s former status, the ghosts or history it may have held didn’t matter. Warning chimes sounded, reminding her that this was not the best time to stop and that was it. She silenced them with the push of a button that crunched as it ground particulates into finer substance and sat, listening to the sound of her own breath through a respirator.

Testing, testing, testing…

I use this site as a real-time, live, test environment for several other web sites I manage, design, construct and maime. Since this one is mine, and mine alone, I can afford to destroy it, rebuild it, experiment, etc. before I roll changes and updates to the others, where eyes and profe$$ionalism matter in measured ways. My countless apologies if this is an inconvenience. Please accept my GIFt below as a token of my appreciation.

How Hot is Your Bolt?

How Hot is Your Yamaha Bolt VX950?

I got a Flir One a little while ago…for, Reasons (they have the iOS version too). As soon as it arrived I got the idea of taking a video of my Yamaha Bolt VX950

The “Scheduling of Things”

Scheduling of Things…is a pain in the ass.

A Temple Burns

Yes, that’s me standing there in a hat, flame resistant shirt, Thai fisherman pants and a pair of boots with a fully engulfed temple not more than fifty feet behind me. The fireman in the picture wasn’t there to douse the flames. I wasn’t a spectator. There was a crowd gathered in near silence, wrapped in their own thoughts, memories and reflections as this structure burned.

It was a little after 3 AM on a Sunday morning in the middle of the desert.
(Photo Courtesy of Nick Franchi)

Oh My Gods

I know…this won’t be exciting to anyone but the biggest of web design nerds…but it’s some very cool stuff! No longer am I constrained to hacking code or pissing about with pre-configured crap. I can do what I want! Yeah!

The recent past…in writing

Failing Happiness

Failing Happiness

Failing Happiness is the place of wilting, not dying, wilting. I can't generalize for everyone suffering from Mental Illness, I won't speak for them; if anything, this shit is so random my own descriptions can't really match up to anyone else. I do know...

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Hail Mary

Hail Mary

Life doesn’t stop between posts, it just…degrades.

I am out of options, hitting for the fences now. 

I really, really hate mental illness.

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2018 Harley Davidson FXBR, Breakout

2018 Harley Davidson FXBR, Breakout

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018 is over! A couple of weekends ago I bought a 2018 Harley Davidson FXBR, Breakout.

And since this damn blog shares a lot of words about riding, and since Spivey (my 2014 Yamaha Bolt R-Spec) is now in the loving hands of my daughter; you’re going to hear a lot about this 2018 Harley Davidson Breakout.

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Pessimistic Idealism

Pessimistic Idealism

My dreams are woven from dark fabric; bound in smoke and fire – embellished with tears. Yet, to see such decoration our eyes need light. It is pointless to weave intricate patterns that cannot be seen. There can never be destruction without creation.

Pessimistic pondering must be balanced by Idealism, or the entire dream collapses into depthless nightmare.

So, yes. I am a man with Pessimistic Idealism driving my thoughts. Since nothing is mutually inclusive, these two clashing concepts work in balance to create some future vision. I think they birth Hope…and a fragile Faith.

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The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018 Spivey is now in the loving hands of my daughter. He was a faithful steed and I miss him. But I am very happy he is where he is.   Searching... This Spring I will get my next bike. Since I have a habit of researching...

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Toxicity

Toxicity

Toxicity …is everywhere, and it’s seeping into life — both waking and sleeping. This is what I’m doing about it.

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Isolation

Isolation

White Supremacists in the Full-Time RV community have forced me to deactivate my FaceBook account. Old friends are not really speaking to me right now. We have one car, so while Julie’s at work I’m land-bound.

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Videos…no writing here

Do NOT follow this link or you will be banned from the site!

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