It’s Not You, It’s Me

This happens every few years; trust me. It’s a fine-tuned piece of clockwork that gets out of sync, needing an equally fine-tuned piece of Norse, hammer technology to carefully bring it back into precise alignment. Even gentlemen in tailored day suits and monocles cannot predict it, nor can they prevent it. Despite the best scientists, regardless of the bones and tea leaves used to foretell its coming, the shit happens. You may know not “when” but you can plan bowel movements and bets around the certainty.

Douche Hat

I need a douche hat…and a shitty car with a soup-can muffler.

While you’re giving me gifts, why not some mid ’90’s economy sedan with plenty of space under the hood for superchargers, turbos, cold air intakes and enough trunk space to stuff a few bass cannons so I might make my brain hemorrhage.

XV950 Bolt Exhaust

This is a post about motorcycles. You have been warned!

I own a 2014 Yamaha Bolt R-Spec, Gray, also known as the XV950. I love this bike. But (always a few of those…) there were things about it I immediately wanted to change; I’ll talk about some of those in future posts. One of the big, “couldn’t happen soon enough” changes was the exhaust.

Blowing the Mind

DO something! This cycle must end before it ends you…

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.

The recent past…in writing

A Long Time Gone

I’ve been a long time gone…

Not slacking or slouching the time away. The hours spent changing things were well spent. Time passed on planes, travelling to distant lands; time spent building a new, solo company–doing my thing, my way. I’ve been constructing a foundation for “what I want”, but not always able to do the “want” vs. the “need”.

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Douche Hat

I need a douche hat…and a shitty car with a soup-can muffler.

While you’re giving me gifts, why not some mid ’90’s economy sedan with plenty of space under the hood for superchargers, turbos, cold air intakes and enough trunk space to stuff a few bass cannons so I might make my brain hemorrhage.

read more

Deep Thought

So, a guy walks into a bar and says to the bartender,

“The Universe wants a drink.”

The bartender looks at the man for a moment and asks,

“Okay. What does the Universe want?”

The man leans forward,

“You already know.”

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New Writing Draft – The Diluvian Mountains

The Diluvian Mountains were a bitter set of black and grey teeth jutting from a flood plain that was sparsely populated. Steep, tall, prone to releasing torrents of glacial flood waters at a whim, not many cities had seen a desire to set roots close by, so there were few who called the place home. The residents who did were seasonal farmers and hunters who would risk the plains during warm weather, growing fast, high-yield crops they could harvest quickly for market then return to the higher valleys to wait out winters, hunting, until the next cycle began.

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2016 Riding Season is Here!

My Yamaha Bolt has been in the dark for far too long. Has your own bike suffered from months of hibernation?

It’s time, my friends; Winter is releasing its cold grip on the Northern Hemisphere. Everywhere the dark is receding, the snows are melting, temperamental storms are voicing change and the air is (slowly) getting warmer.

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Just Read It…

“…some considered me an embarrassment to the sport and wanted me to just go away.”

We make wheelchair ramps, we strive to fight cancer, we pass laws to fight behaviors leading to diabetes. Mental Illness? Hell no, put those people away; let’s not even talk to them.

Love us one minute, ignore or hate us the next…we live with enough darkness. The constant rejection just feeds the illness; it adds to our suicide rates (and that’s when friends and support seem to come out of nowhere…after we’re dead? We needed you before that!)

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