Ok, so last weekend I took the top off my jeep. I know what this means.
Ok, so last weekend I took the top off my jeep.
I know what this means. Every time I take it off early, in April, the rains come back soon as the top’s off.
Every. Damned. Time.
I did it anyway.
So then today I added a scoff; I rode my bike and talked about how nice a day it was. So of course, it’s about to rain and me without my foul-weather riding gear.
Remind me next year, ok? Top on until may.
I rode to work this morning on my big green Triumph, and had the best morning I’ve had in a couple of weeks. Coffee in my veins, sunshine and the smell of spring, almost summer.
It’s too fucking nice today in sunny Silicon Valley to be at work. My third-floor office (Yes, office, I’m no cubical-dweller) window mocks me with this fact.
I rode to work this morning on my big green Triumph, and had the best morning I’ve had in a couple of weeks. Coffee in my veins, sunshine and the smell of spring, almost summer.
Oh, to keep going. I took the long way to work just because it’s so nice, so beautiful. I wanted to keep going, just ride, just go and go. Ride west, to the sea, and then turn south.
Or find some tramp steamer, ride aboard, work my way across the ocean, and ride off someplace with palm trees and warm beaches.
The horizon calls me. The road calls me.
Go.
Who’s with me?
I’m in the mood to get fall-down, piss-stinking, bar-fighting, crazy-talking, fuck-anything-that-moves drunk…. I don’t mean a fairies and sunshine, glinda-the-good-witch sort of magic.
I’m in the mood to fucking drink.
I’m in the mood to get fall-down, piss-stinking, bar-fighting, crazy-talking, fuck-anything-that-moves drunk.
This kind of drunk, it has to be, has to be tequila.
There’s a magic about tequila. I don’t mean a fairies and sunshine, glinda-the-good-witch sort of magic. No, this is a bad-juju-bart-no-like magic. This is a dark-fire-in-the-skull magic.
The old joke goes there’s a reason they call it ‘ta kill ya.
Tequila isn’t a beverage. Fuck people who serve it in snifters and pretend it’s cognac. Tequila is a drug. Tequila is meant to be shot, gulped, slammed, pounded. Sucked from a bottle, or if you’re really, really lucky, from a beautiful woman’s mouth. It’s not for fucking sipping. You want to taste it more? Drink more.
I don’t particularly like expensive, super-high-end tequila. Fact is, I’d rather drink a good blanco than a great anejo. The anejo tastes good, sure, but tequila needs to bite. Tequila needs to hurt you when it goes down.
You know what I hate? When people call the lime and salt training wheels. The lime and salt is ritual. It’s part of the process, like rolling a joint or cutting out a line or prepping a shot. And it tastes good, dammit. It’s flavor compliment; it’s not to cover the taste, it’s to enhance it, like seasoning on a steak. I don’t care how good that steak is, without salt and pepper, it’s just flesh. With the seasonings, it’s cuisine.
Give me a shot, make it two, make it three, and quickly, fucking quickly.
Alas.
I’m off to meet a friend for dinner, and you know, I must be a grownup. It’s tuesday, and I have to work tomorrow, and so does he, and I’ll have a twenty-five mile drive home after I drop him at his hotel. So this isn’t the night for fighting and fucking some stranger. We’ll have a few, I’m certain, but…
Sometimes it sucks being a grown-up.
Raincheck on that, ok? I need that tequila drunk. I haven’t been good and pissed since St. Patrick’s day, and that was on on Irish. I’m still needing that tequila drunk, and soon.
This is for the bad little kid in all of us. NWA’s Straight Outta Compton, edited down to only the explicit content.So for example the title track, which starts: Straight outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube From the gang called Niggaz With Attitudes When I’m called off, I got a sawed off Squeeze the trigger, and bodies are hauled off You too, boy, if ya fuck with me The police are gonna hafta come and get me Off yo ass, that’s how I’m goin out For the punk motherfuckers that’s showin ouIs then reduced to simply:motherfucker, niggaz, fuck, ass, motherfuckers.This reduced to me absolute giggles.
This is for the bad little kid in all of us.
NWA’s Straight Outta Compton, edited down to only the explicit content.
So for example the title track, which starts:
Straight outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube
From the gang called Niggaz With Attitudes
When I’m called off, I got a sawed off
Squeeze the trigger, and bodies are hauled off
You too, boy, if ya fuck with me
The police are gonna hafta come and get me
Off yo ass, that’s how I’m goin out
For the punk motherfuckers that’s showin ou
Is then distilled down to:
motherfucker, niggaz, fuck, ass, motherfuckers.
This reduced to me absolute giggles.
Not work safe, not kid safe, not even safe for me.
(Thanks, as usual, to BoingBoing.)
And you can’t see his eyes or his longing- -A hat pulled down low Hides the price on his soul. There’s a ship which won’t be long coming; So when he gets on board You just whisper the word. Takes a last look over his shoulder, Sees the sun going down Watched by no one around So where are his friends now he needs them?
I was going to post more song lyrics.
And then I read something of Buck Daruma’s, and, you know, had to admit it means writer’s block.
Read more “A hat pulled down low hides the price on his soul”
Sometimes you know, when one’s mood is low, there’s not a thing in the world better than playing goofy-golf with one’s kids. I should try to find a history of goofy golf, mini golf, whatever you want to call it.
Sometimes you know, when one’s mood is low, there’s not a thing in the world better than playing goofy-golf with one’s kids.
I should try to find a history of goofy golf, mini golf, whatever you want to call it. It’s an oddity, and I’d guess a singularly american one. I can’t quite imagine the french or the germans playing it.
But in any case, it’s terribly hard to find much importance in the world’s problem or my own when I’m using a tiny, candy-colored putter to knock a florescent orange golf-ball into a grinning dragon’s mouth.
I guess I’ll finally have to go to one of these deals…. We’ll see how much trouble we can all get into.
TranceJen just made me promise.
JournalCon is in San Diego this year. I guess I’ll finally have to go to one of these deals.
October 21-23. Save that date. We’ll see how much trouble we can all get into.
Ray? You too, me bucko.
Some days, only Motorhead will do.
Some days, only Motorhead will do.
I make love to mountain lions,
Sleep on red-hot branding irons,
When I walk the roadway shakes,
Bed’s a mess of rattlesnakes,
Voodoo child, black cat bone,
Scratch your back, hear you moan,
I get up, you go down, tall building, single bound,
War and peace and love, say it if you dare,
Iron fist, velvet glove,
I’m so bad, baby I don’t care,
Black-hearted to the bone,
Older than The Rolling Stones,
Been to heaven, been to hell,
Bought the farm, and I won’t sell,
Give and take, rise and fall, rise up and take it all,
Secret love, I won’t tell, knock you up and ring your bell,
Kiss the whip, eat the gun,
Tell me it ain’t fair, midnight victim, hit and run,
I’m so bad, baby I don’t care,
I make the blind to see,
Shoot ’em full of R and B,
I make the lame to walk,
Come ’round and pop your cork,
Wham, bam, thank you ma’am,
Thought I heard the back door slam,
Overkill, walk the line, kill the lights, it’s lampshade time,
On the road, on the lam, people running scared,
I’m everything they say I am, I’m so bad, baby I don’t care.
-Motorhead, I’m So Bad (Baby I Don’t Care)
So the thing with mooching server space and bandwidth from friends is, there’s an upside and a downside. The upside is, I get all this free for nothing but love.
So the thing with mooching server space and bandwidth from friends is, there’s an upside and a downside.
The upside is, I get all this free for nothing but love. This blog, and several others I host, like Austin Ray.
The down side is, you get what you pay for. You pay in love, you get love back, but love ain’t reliability and support. No redundant network connection.
This means we have a certain level of vulnerability.
for example:
…the network line comes in to Junior’s room, but the hardware had
been hidden under his loft. Since we redid his room we have not yet
rebuilt the loft, so the hardware’s exposed to his giant head to
accidentally bump out of the wall.”
Well. That there explains why we’ve been off line a lot the last couple days. Watch that head, Junior!
Ruby, my six-year-old, reminded me of something today.Daddy, she said, You promised we could see if my legs are long enough.And of course I had. The rule has always been, when you can get both your feet securely on the rear pegs, you can ride on the back of my motorcycle.
Ruby, my six-year-old, reminded me of something today.
“Daddy”, she said, “You promised we could see if my legs are long enough.”
And of course I had. The rule has always been, when you can get both your feet securely on the rear pegs, you can ride on the back of my motorcycle.