Unknown Heavyweight Contender.

Remember Bio-Hazard, not the media bullshit hype, the band? Some of you vaguely maybe. I already told you, I like things other folks know little about. I like originality over familiarity. Give me a new something rather than the same old tired piece of radio. If you were on the outside of the extreme sports world, before it was called extreme sports you likely never heard of BeoWulf. The whole Venice connection somehow was overshadowed by the Godfather, Suicidal Tendencies. This was before rap and hip-hop took over skateboarding, 'crossover' was likely yet to be coined and no one gave a good god-damned monkeys arm pit about your fucking cd player. MP3 wasnt even known and your cassette deck was better than FM.

BeoWulf was pure aggression, pure channeled anger, pure fucking metal. It was written because it was, not because it was marketed and then produced. It was badass, it was hard, it was real. It was better than anything you never fucking heard. New school kids wish they had heard this before they bought the black album.

I wish I could find my creepers and white tube socks about now.

Knife the Milk,

OK, so I admit it, I go on tangents, rants, raves, and kicks. Yesterday I am beltin' the Merle Haggard or some other hillbilly, and today I am bringin' the cream cheese. Lowfat dairy, lactose tolerant goodness. I like bands and music most folk never heard of. I like original tunes. I like songs that make me feel my newness all over again, even though they maybe lost from 1990 somewhere.

Jason Lee likes Milk, his video helped me remind me of Milk. Milk is for listening, not for drinking. Science says humans should forgo cows milk and drink only human breast milk. Ladies....want some breast suckling bovine on your chest??

Milk.

Trans Am

I couldn't resist this post. I know its supposed to be a country music week but damn this here was hidden deep in the bowels of the internet.

If you ever have the chance to see these guys live I highly recommend it. No beer required.

Mississippi Squirrel Revival

This one goes out to Big Al McFarland at the request of his lovely daughter Kari. Get well soon, there's still plenty of roundball left to be coached!!

Hope this brings a smile to your face....if only for a few minutes. If this is what I can do to cheer up an otherwise glum situtation then I will play this song till the squirrels come home.

God Bless Ya!!

HOSS!!

Here's an old classic, yes....I like me some old classic country and no one could belt the tunes like ol' Waylon, God rest his soul.

A song about a dog about a woman. I bet the guy he is singin' of doesn't ride a motorcycle, probably drives a rusty ol' Chevy short bed with a backyard rebuild, I bet he carries a handgun in the glove box though.

9 letter word

Well...it occured to me just now that we been a lil dog and gun scarce lately. So whats a blogger to do but Google some "dogs with guns pics"

The dog on the floor....first cousin to the wife of a very good long time friend of mine. That's like only thrice removed from a Hollywood celebrity.





Hey....never once did I mention what type of dogs, nor any of it. Maybe next time will be a transvestite riding a tandem Schwinn with a water pistol and a pimp.

Gamblin' House

Some of you who are close to me may know that today is my 4th anniversary of a life now lived clean and sober. I knew to get my arse to a good meeting tonight and pick up a chip, and to my surprise a chip was a coin that a good ol' boy named Jack passed along to me. Not only that the chairperson had no lead (speaker) lined up for this meeting and just a few moments before the meeting was to begin I was asked to speak.

Not being one wanting to turn down service work and being my anniversary I kindly responded with a yes. And it all goes to show that the perception of two men is never the same. As always when speaking I had trouble with eye contact and that was fine. Though all the while, and now looking back, through my quick and silent prayers H.P carried me through. I do believe I was truly outside of my body during my talk, like I was standing behind myself watching my other (higher) self speak to a room of near 30 people.

I had an excellent response, was asked to lead again in July and in turn was able to take out a nice little insurance policy for myself, a policy that helps me insure immunity from intoxication, inebriation and incarceration.

I leave you with quite possibly one of my favorite singer songwriters of all time, Malcomb Holcombe. I have had the privilege of meeting Malcolm on several occasions and he told me something once I will never forget. "A minute a second a breath at a time if that's what it takes." Here is Malcolmb at the Grey Eagle in Asheville NC. A legendary musician in a classic venue in a strange little city.

God Bless.

One for the books

So its late, I am tired, the scarlet and grey game is tomorrow yet I still have to go in and get my crew rollin' first thing in the AM. Regardless I have committed to do at least 2 posts a week.

So here is a nice little video of a sweet fuckin bike. Turbo motorcycles and AC/DC, life is good. One for the books.

Envelope edge bursts wide open.

As one who is absolutely enthralled with the sport or "lifestyle" if you will of motorcycles. One of the most common questions I hear from cagers or non-motorcyclists is...."Those things seem so dangerous" or another good one is from the balding overweight middle age dude who wants to tell me about the year or two he owned a Kawasaki 500 or maybe some fuckin dirtbike his cousins nephews sisters kid had at the family reunion and he accidentally wheelied. Usually a guy such as this will tell me such a thing to try and "qualify" in my eyes or my nearby biker buddies. As if the fact that now he has a mortgage, kids and a mini-van made it a good idea to sell the bike. Fuck no dude....it was a bad idea!!! If I were to get married it sure wouldn't be to some woman who says "Sell the bikes or the weddings off!" And if she did I would know then and there that a woman who wants me to sacrifice my own personal joys for the privilege of marrying her is no woman I need to marry at all.

So this was supposed to be a rant about above dude and how I don't know how the hell he got like that but he did and I bet he just loved seeing that shot but somehow it turned into my rant about "responsible" people. Where does it say that as we age we should stop having fun?? Truth be known the more I age the more god-damned fun I have.

God loves motorcycles.

more of the more

So there has been talk of a few bikes lately, not to mention some sad and absurd and even a little music heavy with Perry and Ian hanging out with us but damn people....I told you I was ADD!! (I freakin love that excuse!!) So now what shall we speak of? I was the kid who got an essay assignment on anything and eyes popped wide. "Anything??" Good God! How can a kid pick from anything?? In the whole world?? The universe??"

Enough of that. Let's just leave it to the dogs and guns today, No, we spoke of dogs getting shot. O.K Ladies.....your turn.

Sweet!!

Hell yes I still think skateboarding is the coolest damn thing since cookie dough in a tube. And some Nirvana aint bad either.

If you have to ask I couldnt explain it anyhow.

God Bless the Ghetto Soldiers.

As some of you may heard me ramble.....I am currently renovating a duplex in the not so nicest part of cow-town. The majority of folks in the area appear to have little if any contribution to society, and on two separate days a prostitute was shot in the leg and then a pit bull was shot dead. Yes someone shot and killed a defenseless dog that was fenced inside a small city backyard. I agree these are all lower forms of expression and I do my best to stay shielded from the bad-mojo and it mostly seems to work. Even when I stroll the half block to Parsons Market for the occasional overpriced pack of smokes or the stale, burnt, mid-morning cup-o-joe I am bothered none and treated with indifference by most.

Though now I will speak of my favorite member of the Parsons Ave community. I know him only as hunched over old man. Hunched over old man appears to live somewheres along E.Morril and every day, sometimes twice a day, I see hunched over old man walking down the street with tan overcoat, smile on his face, and if you are close enough to the old guy you just may hear him singing or whistling. What a great old guy.

One day last week hunched over old man was walking and singing as I was rooting through my truck box for one ghetto reno tool or another and he stopped next to me and without raising his head though showing a smile through his same everyday red baseball cap he politely asked me to spare a quarter. I kindly obliged as I felt the life that had led him to this likely was deserving of thousands if not millions of quarters. So from my console I reached in and pulled out one single solitary quarter. He thanked me with a smile and stated that he was a little short for todays sandwich and off he went. He walks very slowly mind you, he is severely hunched over and likely has no schedule to keep anyhow so off he went hunched over, singing and whistling.

My surmise tells me that hunched over old man has likely lived along South Parsons for many a decade and well before the blight set in and that despite such he will continue to stay. I am sure he has wonderful stories to tell of the neighborhood and of his long life but I dont ask. I just look at the old guy and smile. Even the hood rats make room for hunched over old man to walk by, something they have never done for me, although they will offer the customary head nod it is a right of passage I spose. Maybe when the corner loitering hood rats step out of my path instead of I having to step off the sidewalk and onto the street I have earned a full ghetto pass. For now they only seem to tolerate me, knowing I am doing a good deed but when the work is done I am off to my own quiet little corner of Columbus. A corner of Columbus where the old men of the world have there lunch bought to them, a Corner of Columbus where dogs are not shot and hookers are likely only found on-line.

God Bless the hunched over old man in the ghetto

Somalian Pirates?!?

So what may I ask is the AP trying to smoke screen now. A whole 3 Somailian pirates board a big ol Maersk tanker and take the 2nd in command hostage.

Story goes the Maersk crew had sunk the pirate ship and the good captain claims the pirates were "greedy" and he gave them chances in the triple digits to take what they wanted and leave. But these pirates felt the Capt. need come along to show them how to operate the lifeboat he gave them.

HUH?? Pirates?? Greedy?? As opposed to a pirate should be more like a Hells Angels club and do toy runs for poor lil Somalian trailer park kids?? Maybe they could fill teddy bears with Afgahni heroin too. Cops would never look in a teddy bear butt.

XXX

JANES ADDICTION!!! Coming to C-Bus with original lineup. Make it good Perry.

1982 Yamaha XZ550Vision

Yes often times motorcycles have a lengthy name and title coupled with a cc labeling and a couple three letters that tell you little lest you be in the know. But here folks as the title reads is one of the ugliest damn bikes Yamaha ever made. If memory serves me right it was only made in 82 and 83 then along came the Seca then onto the SecaII (Yes, that's 2)

I owned a nastier, uglier likely louder version of this motorcycle and likely I paid to much for the thing but I didnt give a damn. I was an impulsive young man and somehow I fell in love with the old snot drippin oil flingin beast and I terrorized the streets of Cincinnati Ohio for two years with the old S.O.B

The thing had a tendency to get the wobbles at around 80-85mph and likely at the time that was a good thing for me lest I would have ended up in a ditch somewheres in Northern KY not to mention the electric and duct tape seat along with dented and slighty rusted gas tank. I dont think I ever once changed the oil, Just added more every couple tanks of gas from the back pack carried quart of brandless over priced gas station oil. Not to mention the illegal tags and never once did I renew my moto-psycho temps. It was a rat bike and often I see these bikes just as ratty or more than the one I had. The Vision was and is ugly, slow and totally an 80's P.O.S. Ranks right up there with neon zebra tights, braided shoelaces, and mullets and I am damn proud to say I owned one,

Turnover

Heres a rockin little number from Fugazi. No this is not becoming a music blog. BAH!

Long May You Run Forrest

Disturbing news to report my friends. Long Story short, Facebook allowed me to stumble upon an old lady friend a few days ago and in an extended on-line chat last night I learned of the passing of an old mutual friend.

My first sponsor in my recovery journey, simply known as Forrest. Truly a give you the shirt off his back kind of guy and a man who was there for me in one of the darkest and most horrid times of my life. I can never repay Forrest for all he ever did for me and he likely would want nothing in return for it anyhow. Forrest was there to pick me up for meetings and work the steps in addition to seeing I was well fed, coffee full and just plain OK. He would listen to my rants, take me to the S.D beaches where we would swim and play with his dog, and shoot pool. (He could run a table like that). Forrest showed me the love of animals, people, life and the world....in short; just be a damn fine friend to a heartbroken and confused young man who had little of anything at the time. He never asked me for a damn thing and always had a witty remark in his oh so dry humor to make one laugh.

Long May You Run Forrest.....Long May You Run. This all took place 13-14 years ago now and today I am nearly 4 years clean and sober brother. My next anniversary is dedicated to you. I am at a loss for words. You are loved brother, truly you are loved

http://www.myspace.com/4063785

Pig aint Free, or is it??

PHEW!!! That was quite the lil ride we just took, but hey, its important goddammit! HA! Slow it down slow it down. True, we been working in the ghetto and while I am looking forward to getting out and moving on the place is a whirlwind of cheap laughs and entertainment, or tears and sorrow, dare I laugh at misery? Yes, it is mostly created from self in my experience and believe me I knew plenty, tears and waste and pain and OH!

Here is some old Sebadoh.

Police Fuck

I watched this fan-video many a time before deciding to post this. Purely educational. Yes I know....I really do, what you resist persists, Such as I have resisted making this a political blog. I was fucked right from the title. These are American images my friends, each and everyone of them. I t is not my intent to focus on this awful awful violence but I do feel strongly that we as a people need to organize and speak up. Our vote means shit and you know it I know it and the whole fucking world knows it. Want to vote, decide how to intelligently spend your dollars. It is near the only way left. Another, go to your local gun shop or shooting range and sign up for a class to be registerd with a concealed carry permit. The government is piss drunk on power, and the Obama faithful have nothing but wool over there eyes. We the People.

This is my rant, no....it doesnt happen often here and mostly the posts and entries have been merely entertainment, and likely the majority of such will continue being so, but we, I, you, me must must must stand up for the rights the non-elected officials are slowly pulling away from us. They are some clever bastards I do admit.

Red Rose Lipstick

And a touch of modern

Legendary Pinups

PIN-UP GIRLS

A virtual friend of mine recently sent me some old pics of some "pin up girls" amazing oil color artwork and just one damn fine trip of history.

Now maybe some women readers disagree here, maybe some of the female persuasion feel that these photos are degrading and demeaning of a lesser time of history and a less evolved male. should I need to defend such artwork I will say it is my opinion that women take such things as pinups and Playboy completely wrong. It has always and will always revolve around the feminine. It is the masculine nature to want to confine control and manipulate these feminine things yes I agree but ladies......behold the power within. See that the feminine is so much more powerful and divine and the masculine merely whimpers and whines in front of such grace. Such whimpering and whining well often turns into posturing and ego.

Behold the mighty pin-up women.

TRAUB!

Beanie-n-Boeckman

One future NFL and one Future CFL great.

Just because

Because some of you folks know the 750F SuperSport was just one damn cool bike.

So....it has been a few days now since our last visit, though I do believe not long enough to have broken my decree, then still we roll. There are a myriad of things we could discuss here, not the least of which being bikes dogs guns and women. Carolina beating underdog Villanova? Old news now at nearly 24 hours ago. Could we speak of politics?.....I dont know, I have promised to stay mostly away from polibitches but with my stance on guns many folks seem to think that is political in itself and maybe they are right, but like I have said before...."Who is gonna argue with a .357?

Bikes?? It has occured to me that I should post some photos of my much beloved Bandit, however it has also occured that due to my nature of always moving moving moving the little cord connecting camera to laptop is officially M.I.A so for now we are stuck with already laptop installed photos. We could speak of wet spots as I hope one Mr. Davis becomes a regular follower and a regular commenter to allow further growth to this here little corner but no wet spots likely should not be spoke of here tonight either, although at present there is a nice steady little rain fall and I do believe we Ohioans need just that to bring us up to normal rainfall totals.

I have decided that now we speak of nothing because as they say a picture is worth a thousand words.....