<>oh good. I'm finally getting spam on MySpace.
"Yo. This is that site our mutual friend shot for. It's an amateur site but
she is naked as a jaybird in there. Keep watching the video. She get's real
nasty. I can't believe she did that! :)"
I wouldn't find this so offensive if it weren't for the abuse of the apostrophe.
I was totally fooled by the "mutual friend" thing too! darn those clever spammers! uhhh, yeah.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
what's underneath, even when the shiny side's up
<>It’s not so often, but sometimes the self-doubt becomes too much. Maybe I really suck at this. Maybe I should take the fucking hint. They’re not exactly subtle hints, anyway. They’re violent, painful, shocking, smelly bad hints, with metal snapping, fingers grinding, sparks flying. I can hear the motor as it spins away. Sometimes it’s a quick one, and sometimes it unfolds in slow motion. Maybe you're looking at the bottom of the motorcycle behind you, rider in panic; you can see his suspension load up as he screeches to a halt. What an interesting view it is down here!
For a while, I got better. I got better, and better, and it was fun. Then the fear set in. It started on July 11th, and it’s been getting worse since. There’s no explanation for that one, so it’s only me.
I can excuse myself somewhat for last night, but in the end, it’s always only you. That’s what makes you the rider. You are always responsible. Hit a deer? What were you doing speeding through the forest? I know. I do it, and when it happens, that’s what I’m going to ask myself. Car made a left in front of you? We all know that’s the most common accident, you should have taken some precaution. Did you make enough eye contact? Was your headlight working? Did you slow down for the intersection? You should know this, you’ve heard the stories, read the articles, you’ve even professed it to others. So what’s your fucking excuse?
I could explain it, that someone put three bottles of motor oil in the intersection where I make my turn after crossing Market Street. Going back and seeing the bottles and puddles meant something to me for sure. But the frequency tells me that there’s something wrong with ME. How many miles have I gone? Probably more than you. So why now, why all of the sudden, have I completely lost it? And what am I doing ignoring these messages?
I started out scared and it took a few years and many thousands of miles to gain some confidence. It was an uphill battle but there was a golden period earlier this year where I HAD IT. But the past few months I’ve just been sliding down the other side of the mountain, taking twigs and rocks in the face and hating myself more every minute.
The pavement hurts, but not so much as this. I’m not so much afraid of the falling off literally, it’s all the falling that continues even after you’ve picked up the bike.
For a while, I got better. I got better, and better, and it was fun. Then the fear set in. It started on July 11th, and it’s been getting worse since. There’s no explanation for that one, so it’s only me.
I can excuse myself somewhat for last night, but in the end, it’s always only you. That’s what makes you the rider. You are always responsible. Hit a deer? What were you doing speeding through the forest? I know. I do it, and when it happens, that’s what I’m going to ask myself. Car made a left in front of you? We all know that’s the most common accident, you should have taken some precaution. Did you make enough eye contact? Was your headlight working? Did you slow down for the intersection? You should know this, you’ve heard the stories, read the articles, you’ve even professed it to others. So what’s your fucking excuse?
I could explain it, that someone put three bottles of motor oil in the intersection where I make my turn after crossing Market Street. Going back and seeing the bottles and puddles meant something to me for sure. But the frequency tells me that there’s something wrong with ME. How many miles have I gone? Probably more than you. So why now, why all of the sudden, have I completely lost it? And what am I doing ignoring these messages?
I started out scared and it took a few years and many thousands of miles to gain some confidence. It was an uphill battle but there was a golden period earlier this year where I HAD IT. But the past few months I’ve just been sliding down the other side of the mountain, taking twigs and rocks in the face and hating myself more every minute.
The pavement hurts, but not so much as this. I’m not so much afraid of the falling off literally, it’s all the falling that continues even after you’ve picked up the bike.
Comments:
Joe
This too shall pass. You sound like you know how to ride safely... you've just had some bad luck. It'll turn. I'm still trying to conquer my own fear of getting on a bike. I've always wanted to, but deaths have cooled my desire. But I don't think we should be hogtied by our fears. So I plan on getting a bike next year. Any bike recommendations?
Posted by Joe on Sunday, November 21, 2004 at 11:54 PMMonday, November 08, 2004
Motorcycle Show
Current mood: other
Saturday was the International Motorcycle Show in San Mateo.
Impressions:
I sat on one of the Husquvarna’s and my feet were dangling about 1 foot from the ground. Now, I’m average height for a woman, and a bit short for a guy. But I’m not 1 foot short in the inseam! Who are these bikes designed for exactly? I saw about four people over the course of the day who might have been able to ride that bike. As Paul pointed out. “Husky has gone out of business twice during the time that we’ve been standing here climbing on their bikes.”
Cage of Death: SO COOL! What fun! I’m glad other people risk serious injury for my amusement.
Overheard at one of these crappy “American Iron” accessory shops, full of chrome, flaming do-rags, and halter tops, from an 11ish year old boy: “This belt that I saw at Hot Topic for $30 is only $19 here!” I hope all the patrons of that booth were duly embarrassed.
The Mille gets uglier every year: the tail now looks like a trivet. So sad. The Spider Man Aprilia was fucking fruity.
I really dig the Multistrada 620. So cute. Now if only it was made by Honda, I might consider it.
On the other hand, Suzuki’s “Adventure-Tourer,” or whatever they’re calling these things, the V-Strom 650, is a gigantic pig of a machine. What happened there?
It’s cool seeing the Baja, etc. setups at the Honda booth. I want a Ruckus. To put in my pocket, and carry around. It is too cute. It is $2000. The “Big Ruckus,” new this year, is an ugly turd, and it costs $5300.
The DRZ looks good, and not much different, and has deeper blue plastics. I miss mine. The Super Motard version was not shown, since we don’t get it in California. Boo. It looks like it’s gonna be neat.
The Monster Challenge was somewhat disappointing, except for one cute little café-racer style setup and paintjob. There was a very cute (and CA street registered!) Triumph flat tracker custom dealy in the Triumph booth, though.
The Husaberg had an electric start, and there was a battery in it. It was also very close to the door. We wondered how much gas was in it, and was it enough to get away with it?
Little kids falling off of dirtbikes is one of the most adorable things ever.
Dinner was at a crappy Mexican place where the food had no flavor. The company was good, but I don’t think there’s any reason for crappy Mexican food to exist in California.
Then I went to work at New Wave City, and Sunday I spent fucking off.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
jumping ship?
Current mood: oddly patriotic
Anyone who's talking about leaving the country because of this election needs to fuck off.
Your country needs you now more than ever.
I can't see anything to be gained by all the thinkers leaving the country. Yeah, maybe if all the liberals or democrats or whoever you call yourselves, leave, we'll have a great nation of, umm, what exactly? I have never seen any benefit from running away.
48/51 or whatever the latest poll number is, means that we are very close.
I rarely spew patriotic rhetoric, or at least not what's commonly recognized as patriotic these days, but I feel very strongly about making this country better, not worse. The concepts underlying our government are good ones, and democracy is a great responsibility. It's your responsibility to make it better, not turn your tail and run. Go cry for a while, then complain, then rebel, riot, write letters, run for office, do what you can. Do not complain about the way things are if you are willing to even consider abandoning them.
ugh, I hate the president, but you're a bunch of whiny retards too.
Comments:
Agreed.
I've never even protested in a march before, but now I'm ready to pick up a gun and revolt. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to get our nation back from those fuckers.
I want to cry
<>"Network projections showed Republicans would hold at least 54 of the 100 Senate seats, three more than they now have, and widen their slim majority of the 435-member House in the new 109th Congress, set to convene on Jan. 3.
That will make it easier for Bush to push his conservative agenda through Congress, potentially making his tax cuts permanent and appointing more federal judges including possibly some U.S. Supreme Court (news - web sites) justices.
"With a bigger majority, we can do even more exciting things," said House Majority leader Tom DeLay, a Republican from Texas. "
What the fuck are these people thinking?
Nevermind National Security, or the incredibly bad face we've made for the rest of the world to look at.
The rollback of civil rights is alarming and disgusting, not "exciting," and there's more on the way.
And new judges...
By the theory that when people find out they might not able to get something, they run out to horde it (like the stupid flu shot), it follows that we should all run out and get as many abortions as we can, while we still can. That means you boys too.
Nonsense. I can't make any sense.
That will make it easier for Bush to push his conservative agenda through Congress, potentially making his tax cuts permanent and appointing more federal judges including possibly some U.S. Supreme Court (news - web sites) justices.
"With a bigger majority, we can do even more exciting things," said House Majority leader Tom DeLay, a Republican from Texas. "
What the fuck are these people thinking?
Nevermind National Security, or the incredibly bad face we've made for the rest of the world to look at.
The rollback of civil rights is alarming and disgusting, not "exciting," and there's more on the way.
And new judges...
By the theory that when people find out they might not able to get something, they run out to horde it (like the stupid flu shot), it follows that we should all run out and get as many abortions as we can, while we still can. That means you boys too.
Nonsense. I can't make any sense.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
My horoscope today
<>Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
The population density of Wyoming is very low, but that doesn't mean the people there aren't also out to kill you.
The population density of Wyoming is very low, but that doesn't mean the people there aren't also out to kill you.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Pajaro Dunes and Cannibalism
Current mood: 
today's horoscope:
Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
You'll feel a lot better with warm clothes on your back and food in your stomach, proving that cannibalism has a couple things going for it.
Not a lot to report here, except PAJARO DUNES SUCKS. I rode two hours down to spend the weekend with my family, only to be told when I got there that they don't allow motorcycles. Ridiculous policy. I don't want to start what will turn into a three page missive about this, but suffice to say PAJARO DUNES CAN SUCK MY FAT ASS. (also, gates don't keep motorcycles out, you stupid old hag.)
2 hours back, wasted my Friday night with that bullshit. Saturday rocked. Drank all day, crawling bars and restaurants near my house. I got pretty well tossed.
Picked up the handlebars, and they won't work for me. Anyone want some ProTapers?
Sunday ate at one of my favorite restaurants and traipsed around the City. I don't often putter around in SF anymore. It was a nice way to spend a weekend.
Then got a few beers and watched the debates I taped on Friday. Was that a debate? I'm not sure. The beer was tasty though.
My brother's in town this weekend for my cousin's wedding. Very cool, I get to see my whole family on Sunday for brunch, before the wedding.
AND, he has finally set a date for his own wedding, which means I'm starting to consider a road trip. But I don't know how much rain I'd get riding to Seattle in April... maybe it wouldn't be so great.
Hungry. (OK, not "numb." But I like the little guy with the fork in his eye.)
Monday, October 04, 2004
fouled plugs
Current mood: 
So I had these two beautiful motorycles.
I loved them, they loved me, they even looked good together.
Then I decided to get off of one without slowing it down first. Crash!
Finally ordered the elusive parts to fix it on Friday. (believe me, it was harder than it sounds)
Sunday I just couldn't stand it, and pulled the runner apart and made it unhappy.
Now I have no bike. Which, admittedly, I deserved.
Carburetors are not my friends. I know, but I suspect that I would hate a fuel injector ten times more, since I could not see the mess and understand the not-working bits.
Despite frustrations I had a wonderful time yesterday.
Saturday I got to go see James race sidecars at Sears Point. Very cool. James is nifty, and now a Hot Racer Boy.
Friday I drank, but did not get "tanked."
SOMEONE I know has just picked up a brand new KTM 950. I have no idea who, though. I really hate when people text message my cellphone. Please stop; I have no clue who sends the message. Usually it's just Jack, but I think it must have been someone else this time. Anyway, whoever you are, can I crash your bike? Pretty please? I ain't got one of my own just now.
Being a passenger is fun.
China sucks.
Bitchslaps on the house tonight.
Comments:
John Foley (ape)
It's about time you started riding bitch again.
Posted by John Foley on Tuesday, October 05, 2004 at 9:08 AM
Friday, October 01, 2004
bling is on the way!
Current mood: ProTaperiffic
Finally ordered the bars for my SV.
Fucking Renthal has all these teaser bars listed on their website which you can't actually buy. After several times trying to order parts which I found there, then finding out that, no, that one is ALSO not available, I've completely abandoned Renthal. Fuck 'em. This is like my vendors in China. They will tell you how great their products are, and how much they are excited to work on stuff and get the business, but as soon as you send them a development, they just tell you they don't feel like doing it. That's if they respond at all. Hello! Renthal apparently learned their business in China. I even emailed them and told them I wanted to figure out how to buy their product and they didn't respond. "Please tell me how to stick money into your business!"
Anyway, I secretely wanted the ProTapers for no apparent reason, and with ONE phone call to Hippie Mark, I can have them. They are on their way now in black, and I'll have them next week. Hack off the ends, visit my SV, and hope for the best. We'll see then if I need longer cables.
All I need now is a footpeg. and a charge on the battery. Woot!
OH!
And, I'm going to go get tanked tonight at Cat Club. Who's in with me?
Tomorrow I'm gonna try to make the races to watch James monkey the sidehack (Go James!), and then I have to work tomorrow night for New Wave City. Yippee-fucking-doo, it's the eighties! The kids love it.
Sunday, I punish my carburetor.
Comments:
John Foley (ape)
current mood: buy me a Goddamned drink.
Posted by John Foley on Saturday, October 02, 2004 at 12:39 PMCharles:
2 more poops.
why do people give each other fat poops?
do not hack the bars till we mount and measure please
Thursday, September 30, 2004
band-blocking goodness
<>Yippee!!!!!!!!
1.) Go to account settings
2.) Select "Block Friend Requests From Bands."
3.) Celebrate
1.) Go to account settings
2.) Select "Block Friend Requests From Bands."
3.) Celebrate
Cycle Gear
<>can suck my fat ass.
I'm tired of being told "no."
Comments:
Pauly Unsaturated
B.
I'm tired of being told "no."
Comments:
Pauly Unsaturated
I'm only allowed 2 props. 2 props isn't even close to "mAd PrOpS". This shit ain't even close to where it needs to be in terms of accurately expressing my "prop" needs.
Cycle Gear Rulez!! Although they didn't have valve shims for my RD at the SF store...
B.
I agree. Cycle gear is sooooooo weak, in fact all motorcycle stores are weak. They are always staffed with complete jerks, who won't help you and act like you've never seen a bike before. Not to mention the fact that you had the nerve to ask for help, now that I'm thinking about it, screw scuderia west too.
Posted by B. on Wednesday, October 06, 2004 at 11:27 PMWednesday, September 29, 2004
since I missed out on that whole "LOL" craze (Myspace Blogs)
Current mood: "awesome!"
Oh good. Now you can give "props" to people in their blogs.
What the hell does that mean? Is it a shorthand for making actual comment? Cuz I love anything that will keep me from actually having to think too hard. oh, yeah!
I also see that I can tell you my mood and what I'm doing. So I can choose from "touched," "predatory," "numb," "contemplative," "indescribable," etc.
Ugh. Wait, no, this is "awesome!" More ways to be EMO!
I'm feeling awesome. Always. But you gotta say it like Doc. "Awesome!"
I also get all this crap:
.
®
¤
and so on.
I'm so glad.
:love:
:clueless:
why can't I make the stupid happy faces work?
Boo.
Comments:
woo!
I rock!
mad props to me, yo!
damn, I guess you can't give yourself props.
:(
John Foley (ape)
Well, thinking too hard does give you wrinkles. So you lucked out!
No props for you.
Charles: poops? I will give you poops!
Posted by Charles on Saturday, October 02, 2004 at 7:06 PM
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
please replace me with an Atari
<>So Saturday I had friends up from the south bay to hang out in the City and do City stuff. There was a tiki art exhibit which was the catalyst for making all of this happen, and while I don’t know how interested anyone was in the actual tiki art, it worked to get my friends to come see me, so I was happy. There were a few pieces in the gallery that I really enjoyed, but we were done rather quickly. We had time to kill so we stopped at a dive bar for a drink so we could feed the meter one last time before dinner. (After trying to explain to Sara that in San Francisco, we don’t just sit on park benches in the Tenderloin to pleasantly relax and feed pigeons and take in the scenery. There’s a reason there’s a giant fence around that park.)
Now, I’ve lived in this neighborhood for ten years, but I clean up better than most of the other residents. I got the distinct feeling they had us pegged for out of towners that got lost in the slums. The first charm was that the bartendress asked us what we wanted, but told us “nothing complicated.” Yay! What a great place! We went about enjoying our drinks while all hell broke loose around us, with a drunken Irishman throwing a cellphone, smashing a bottle, and storming out. Awesome!
On to dinner, at Axum East. I’ve been to the one in the Lower Haight several times, and was pleasantly surprised. Much bigger, and the food seemed just as good. A little different ambiance, but whatever.
Decided to catch the earlier Mousetrap show instead of going to the Vertigo bar, and since I was confused about the actual time, we piled into the car and went. At some point I realized it was an hour earlier than I’d thought so we stopped for a Barrel of Monkeys flaming drink for four at the Lingba Lounge. Charles requested parlor tricks and got them, then looked perturbed.
Out to Hunter’s Point for the Mousetrap thingy. There was liquor and a burn barrel and some couches, so I was happy. The sky was beautiful and I had some of my favorite people around. It was a good time. Oh yeah, there was a life size mousetrap, like the game. Yeah. Cool, but just a fraction of the fun for me. Fun was getting up and down the hillside in my ridiculous furry platform boots with chrome heels. I totally did not break my ankles!
Where next? Sara wants to go to Noc Noc. I mention donuts at the roundabout and Charles wants to go back to do it. And the Mighty Festiva is squealing with joy as we jerk around the circle several times. Charles has not been drinking, and deserves to have his fun too. Finally we exit the circle and make our way to Noc Noc where we get nearly rockstar parking and find ourselves with a crappy floor table. We are all folded up sitting on the floor in a room full of stinky smokers and hippies. The table next to us looks more comfortable. Sara mentions that next she wants to go somewhere she can dance, and I suggest the table next to us. It hardly takes any cajoling at all, and she is ON IT! Charles gave me money to put in her waistband. The people sitting there look bemused, then get up and vacate. Yay! We got a much better table. Unfortunately, sara cannot find the money she earned.
Saturday morning we got ready to go meet Sara and Charles to ride Mt. Hamilton. Paul has never been before, this is one of my favorite rides. But, it’s raining. Just a little when I wake up. Forecast says it will clear up. Anyway, we’re all on dirtbikes, and traction is really just a bonus. But Charles will have none of it, so Paul and I decided to go without them. Then got lazy and confused and made bizarre plans based on the fact that we both thought it was Saturday. Anyway, it ended up not mattering because he couldn’t start his bike. It seems that the XR series won’t run without a sparkplug, and his was stolen while it was parked by my house. Sheesh! Very ironic, since we had just been discussing this very issue, and the fact that his sparkplug wouldn’t even work for smoking crack. Something about a carbon core, or, oh who cares, anyway, two up to Scuderia was an adventure, as I haven’t had a passenger in ages and I only have one passenger peg.
Fast forward to the afternoon, when we finally got to Mt. Hamilton. It had rained in San Jose also, but it wasn’t raining when we got there. The ride up was nice, very little traffic, but the road was a bit slippery. Water in the corners where the trees were. Very thick fog at the top, but very very pretty. This is the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten to the top and NOT seen that asshole UC cop. Guess it was too cold for him to bother. Took the little telescope tour/lecture, and warmed our asses on the heaters inside, then headed down the back. I think this was one of the nicest runs I’ve ever had down the backside and Mines road. Saw a lot of wildlife—deer, quail, some other neat looking birds. Paul saw two tarantulas. Just a beautiful day for a ride. Stopped at the Junction, which for once had no other motorcycles, but was full of colorful locals inside. Headed back into the East Bay, where I of course became lost. Took me like an hour to recover and finally found my way back for a cup of tea before heading home for another week of drudgery.
I thought the whole point of computers and all that crap was so that we could spend all our time playing, while the robots and computers did all the work.
I feel so gypped.
Now, I’ve lived in this neighborhood for ten years, but I clean up better than most of the other residents. I got the distinct feeling they had us pegged for out of towners that got lost in the slums. The first charm was that the bartendress asked us what we wanted, but told us “nothing complicated.” Yay! What a great place! We went about enjoying our drinks while all hell broke loose around us, with a drunken Irishman throwing a cellphone, smashing a bottle, and storming out. Awesome!
On to dinner, at Axum East. I’ve been to the one in the Lower Haight several times, and was pleasantly surprised. Much bigger, and the food seemed just as good. A little different ambiance, but whatever.
Decided to catch the earlier Mousetrap show instead of going to the Vertigo bar, and since I was confused about the actual time, we piled into the car and went. At some point I realized it was an hour earlier than I’d thought so we stopped for a Barrel of Monkeys flaming drink for four at the Lingba Lounge. Charles requested parlor tricks and got them, then looked perturbed.
Out to Hunter’s Point for the Mousetrap thingy. There was liquor and a burn barrel and some couches, so I was happy. The sky was beautiful and I had some of my favorite people around. It was a good time. Oh yeah, there was a life size mousetrap, like the game. Yeah. Cool, but just a fraction of the fun for me. Fun was getting up and down the hillside in my ridiculous furry platform boots with chrome heels. I totally did not break my ankles!
Where next? Sara wants to go to Noc Noc. I mention donuts at the roundabout and Charles wants to go back to do it. And the Mighty Festiva is squealing with joy as we jerk around the circle several times. Charles has not been drinking, and deserves to have his fun too. Finally we exit the circle and make our way to Noc Noc where we get nearly rockstar parking and find ourselves with a crappy floor table. We are all folded up sitting on the floor in a room full of stinky smokers and hippies. The table next to us looks more comfortable. Sara mentions that next she wants to go somewhere she can dance, and I suggest the table next to us. It hardly takes any cajoling at all, and she is ON IT! Charles gave me money to put in her waistband. The people sitting there look bemused, then get up and vacate. Yay! We got a much better table. Unfortunately, sara cannot find the money she earned.
Saturday morning we got ready to go meet Sara and Charles to ride Mt. Hamilton. Paul has never been before, this is one of my favorite rides. But, it’s raining. Just a little when I wake up. Forecast says it will clear up. Anyway, we’re all on dirtbikes, and traction is really just a bonus. But Charles will have none of it, so Paul and I decided to go without them. Then got lazy and confused and made bizarre plans based on the fact that we both thought it was Saturday. Anyway, it ended up not mattering because he couldn’t start his bike. It seems that the XR series won’t run without a sparkplug, and his was stolen while it was parked by my house. Sheesh! Very ironic, since we had just been discussing this very issue, and the fact that his sparkplug wouldn’t even work for smoking crack. Something about a carbon core, or, oh who cares, anyway, two up to Scuderia was an adventure, as I haven’t had a passenger in ages and I only have one passenger peg.
Fast forward to the afternoon, when we finally got to Mt. Hamilton. It had rained in San Jose also, but it wasn’t raining when we got there. The ride up was nice, very little traffic, but the road was a bit slippery. Water in the corners where the trees were. Very thick fog at the top, but very very pretty. This is the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten to the top and NOT seen that asshole UC cop. Guess it was too cold for him to bother. Took the little telescope tour/lecture, and warmed our asses on the heaters inside, then headed down the back. I think this was one of the nicest runs I’ve ever had down the backside and Mines road. Saw a lot of wildlife—deer, quail, some other neat looking birds. Paul saw two tarantulas. Just a beautiful day for a ride. Stopped at the Junction, which for once had no other motorcycles, but was full of colorful locals inside. Headed back into the East Bay, where I of course became lost. Took me like an hour to recover and finally found my way back for a cup of tea before heading home for another week of drudgery.
I thought the whole point of computers and all that crap was so that we could spend all our time playing, while the robots and computers did all the work.
I feel so gypped.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
I look better with a beard
Comments:
Is that what you're calling Paul now? At least you can finally admit it, you big lesbo.
Posted by John Foley on Friday, September 17, 2004 at 10:16 AMRebecca
Hey, I didn't "out" you!!!!
Oh, wait, I guess it's not really necessary.
John Foley (ape)
OUT? I was never IN!
Posted by John Foley on Saturday, September 18, 2004 at 1:54 PM
my friends do the darndest things!
<>So a friend of mine runs this site HotorNot, which is one of the funniest success stories I've ever heard. Best I can figure, HotorNot was a bad idea someone came up with while they were drunk, but he and James have made it into one of the most well known and successful dating websites out there. Oh, and it's oddly compelling to sit and click at for a while.
Jimy did pretty well for himself with this thing and wants to give someone a bunch of money to encourage them to vote. I think that's pretty cool. I think it'd be even cooler if he gave ME the money, but, whatever....
Go here, sign up, look at Jim and James with no clothes on, win big money, and VOTE.
http://rt3153g.VOTEorNOT.org
ps. if you win, you should buy me an ice cream cone. With sprinkles.
Jimy did pretty well for himself with this thing and wants to give someone a bunch of money to encourage them to vote. I think that's pretty cool. I think it'd be even cooler if he gave ME the money, but, whatever....
Go here, sign up, look at Jim and James with no clothes on, win big money, and VOTE.
http://rt3153g.VOTEorNOT.org
ps. if you win, you should buy me an ice cream cone. With sprinkles.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
don't think someone else is going to fix this for you
<>OK, so this graphic is a bit on the cheeseball side. But in all seriousness, here's something I think is incredibly important. My grandfather was once a rabid Republican, but in the past ten or so years, he's veered away from that. Now he's told me that he feels this is the darkest period in American history, certainly that he remembers, and that he can even think of historically. He really looks scared.
Both parties suck, (I happen to think one sucks less than the other. And right now, that's very important to me.) and they both think that there's a dollar amount on each vote. Some voters are worth investing in, others are not. If you're reading this, you're probably in the "don't waste the campaign dollars" category. They're counting on your apathy to let them run the country for their own purposes.
So, for the sake of my grandfather, please do your goddam job. Go. Vote. It's not so hard, and you get a little sticker when you turn in your ballot.
And, who DOESN'T like a sticker?
Charles:
Both parties suck, (I happen to think one sucks less than the other. And right now, that's very important to me.) and they both think that there's a dollar amount on each vote. Some voters are worth investing in, others are not. If you're reading this, you're probably in the "don't waste the campaign dollars" category. They're counting on your apathy to let them run the country for their own purposes.
So, for the sake of my grandfather, please do your goddam job. Go. Vote. It's not so hard, and you get a little sticker when you turn in your ballot.
And, who DOESN'T like a sticker?
Comments:
You people all need to move to Russia.
Posted by John Foley on Thursday, September 16, 2004 at 8:38 AMCharles:
http://www.whitehouse.org/initiatives/posters/hot-karl.asp
please backtrack to their home page, for many inspirational messages.
register to and vote.
or stfu
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
only YOU can prevent office fires!
<>Beautiful. My office smells like smoke.
Last year we all had to evacuate the building (and the entire four or five blocks) because their "controlled burn," wasn't.
Hah hah!
Not so funny to the people who live here.
My eyes/contacts are bothering me, so I know I'm not imagining the smoke in the air right now...
excitement?
Last year we all had to evacuate the building (and the entire four or five blocks) because their "controlled burn," wasn't.
Hah hah!
Not so funny to the people who live here.
My eyes/contacts are bothering me, so I know I'm not imagining the smoke in the air right now...
excitement?
Monday, September 13, 2004
chain goodness
<>I finally got a new chain on my DRZ. yay! it is wonderful and doesn't make all that noise. I also suspect it won't need adjustment every three miles like the old one did. I did a really good job on that old chain. It was stretched so damn much, we had to cut a link out to keep it from jumping off and doing a dance numbr on the freeway.
And had a generally wonderful weekend. Again. What did I do to deserve all this?
I finally saw the buffalo in Golden Gate Park. All these years I've lived here and never gone to see them... and, uhhh, it was a little anti-climactic. Those are some seriously ugly and lazy creatures. And the double fence means it's hard to poke, prod, or otherwise pester them.
Some macaroon took the perfectly divey-bar by my house and turned it into a hip-hop-lounge sort of place. Which I wouldn't even care about, except it was nightclub-loud with some crappy DJ mixing disco and hip-hop, or whatever the fuck they call it these days. ***NEWS FLASH: Disco sucks! It might have been sort of funny and ironic the first time someone mixed it into modern "music," but now it's just sucking and making you look like a dumbass with bad taste.*** I preferred the dirty dive bar incarnation greatly. Plus there was no liquor in my drink. Boo. Now where should I go to drink in the neighborhood?
I have not seen charles in so long, I think I am going to cry.
And had a generally wonderful weekend. Again. What did I do to deserve all this?
I finally saw the buffalo in Golden Gate Park. All these years I've lived here and never gone to see them... and, uhhh, it was a little anti-climactic. Those are some seriously ugly and lazy creatures. And the double fence means it's hard to poke, prod, or otherwise pester them.
Some macaroon took the perfectly divey-bar by my house and turned it into a hip-hop-lounge sort of place. Which I wouldn't even care about, except it was nightclub-loud with some crappy DJ mixing disco and hip-hop, or whatever the fuck they call it these days. ***NEWS FLASH: Disco sucks! It might have been sort of funny and ironic the first time someone mixed it into modern "music," but now it's just sucking and making you look like a dumbass with bad taste.*** I preferred the dirty dive bar incarnation greatly. Plus there was no liquor in my drink. Boo. Now where should I go to drink in the neighborhood?
I have not seen charles in so long, I think I am going to cry.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Ha Hah! So Funny!
<>So this morning on the way to work, my shift lever fell off. I noticed this as I had come to a stop between two cars at a light. Fortunately, my bike doesn't too much mind starting up in 2nd, so I was able to go when the light turned and pull off in the middle of the next block.
Pushed a block to park her at the Chevron, then hiked up the block where it fell off. Found it in the crosswalk (must have fallen off immediately after I'd shifted up from that light.) Watched a few cars run it over, and retrieved it. Cleaned a bunch of crud off of it (Thank you Redwood City Honda for ignoring my warantee-covered oil leak. Fuckers) and found a truck full of cheery Irish guys with tools. (Thank you "Sparky's Electric!")
Stuck it on and tightened it a bit with the wrong tools, will check again when I get home tonight.
I know, I need to wash the dirtbike and tighten bolts.
Also, my chain is so loose, I fear I may run over it. Heh.
Pushed a block to park her at the Chevron, then hiked up the block where it fell off. Found it in the crosswalk (must have fallen off immediately after I'd shifted up from that light.) Watched a few cars run it over, and retrieved it. Cleaned a bunch of crud off of it (Thank you Redwood City Honda for ignoring my warantee-covered oil leak. Fuckers) and found a truck full of cheery Irish guys with tools. (Thank you "Sparky's Electric!")
Stuck it on and tightened it a bit with the wrong tools, will check again when I get home tonight.
I know, I need to wash the dirtbike and tighten bolts.
Also, my chain is so loose, I fear I may run over it. Heh.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
And I never once lost my spoon!
So every year just before Burning Man, I always think “this is the last time.” And then every year, when I come back, I’m so thrilled, can’t wait to get back next year… Then when it approaches, I’m tired of it again.
This year, I really think it may be the last time. At least for a while. I don’t know for sure that the event and the art were less than in the past. I do know that my involvement, inspiration, and motivation have dwindled, and my interaction was so minimal that I’m not sure I could justify another trip next year.
Which isn’t to say I didn’t have a good time. I had a REALLY good time.
Left Wednesday after work, tossed a little bag onto the bike, met the boy (yes, there’s a BOY), and we headed up to beautiful downtown Oroville for the night, at a five-star Days Inn, or something like it. Intention was to get a few hours north for the night, and save the daylight and rushing so we could enjoy the scenic ride out and still get in to BRC in time to gather our crap and set up in the daylight.
Watched Martha Stewart brainwashing freaky little kids on the TV and learned how to make a Barbie cake. Conked out and got up late (hello? Days Inn alarm clocks are not to be trusted) Packed up and then tore everything apart looking for my bike key. (I brought a spare, but still) Gave up and then found it under my back tire. Is this a bad sign?
Breakfast was iffy, but we quickly found our way up to highway 70 Feather River Canyon, which is one of the purtiest roads I’ve ever ridden. After finally losing the cop, we enjoyed tiny spurts of fun in between trucks and unresponsive traffic switches for the bridge work. Seriously, I LOVE this road. I’d love to come back to the area for a camping weekend or somesuch. Maybe rent an Airstream at “Jackass Flats?”
Into Susanville for lunch and then went looking for our dirt road. Which was, uhhh, completely unmarked, so we passed it. Doubled back and guessed on which turn-off it was, and with some luck, I was right. Smoke Creek Desert road, or whatever it’s called, is a dirt/gravel road across the desert from 395 to about 10 miles north of Gerlach. Very little traffic, really pretty and un-developed. Gravel and some rocky bits tossed my bike around a little, but I definitely was doing better than I did last year on the same road. The XR behind me was handicapped by street tires, so I got to have the delusion that I was doing well, comparatively. Noticed a cave on the left side of the road, and meant to come back to it on the return trip for exploration.
Got to Gerlach and it was still NOT hot. At all. At the gas station, one of the Perimeter workers asked if we were going in to BRC now. “It’s really bad in there,” he told us. Um? Really bad, like what? Like it’s wall to wall hippies? There’s no running water? It’s hot? It’s cold? You fucking dumbass, it’s a goddam desert! “Bad what?” “It’s a total whiteout,” he says. I stopped myself from saying “OH, shit, I guess I’ll just go home then.” “It’s OK, I’m on a dirtbike,” has become my answer to any of this brand of stupidity (It’s raining/dusty/hot/cold/muddy/there’s traffic/there’s no parking/what-the-fuck-ever). “Well, you have to go in through the gate!” he gets all exciteable. No shit, dumbass, but now that you mention it, I COULD go in through the side if they’re all as dumb as you.
Into the city, to the airport, found my sister and parked our crap at Thunderdome. Started trekking around to get our shit to camp. (why must my sister camp on the other side of the world?) I was drinking by the end of my second trip to schlep stuff, and the tent was up before sundown. Happy happy.
And then a bunch of stuff in between. I think every time at Burning Man, at least for me, it’s a little different. Some years I’ve spent a lot of time working at thunderdome. Some times it’s all about the art and the city, some years it’s been about the people I meet and get to know. This year my focus was very narrow and very nearby. I was downright reclusive with this incredible boy, and carry a bit of guilt and a lot of joy from that. We traipsed around suffering through intense blisters and had a damn fine time. Drank a bit, gave bad advice and ate my sister’s food. There was some really cool art, and a lot that didn’t capture me at all. It was a good time, but I’m not sure it was a patently “Burning Man” experience.
I’m writing this so I’ll remember: Fuck the Temple Burn. In the past few years this has been one of the high points for me. I’ve never gone out to watch the Man burn, preferring to stay at camp away from the crowds of yahoos and tweakers. The temple has always been a more quiet, reflective burn. This year it was so very different, I nearly followed Kevy’s lead and walked out. I stayed, but the bitterness won’t go away. The crowd of people gathered was just an extension of the yahoos; there was yelling and bitching, complaining, selfish fuckups and some dumbass with laser pointers. I never heard such angry hippies! “fuck you,” “fat bitch,” and an assortment of other insults and pathetic empty threats were tossed around the group while we sat. They yelled over the singing and complained about every goddam thing around them. I won’t return for that. I’m so sorry for David Best and his team. Every time I see his/their work, I’m in awe, but the crowds that have gathered are not worthy. The burn itself was beautiful, as was the temple in its finished state, but the rest of the experience was really disgusting.
Monday morning plan was to leave ASAP to get our asses onto that dirt road for the long trip home. Note to self: do NOT use angle iron to stake a tent. Left much later than we wished, and only after fucking with my bike when it wouldn’t start. So we took 80 instead, and in order to avoid my falling asleep while riding, we rode like jackasses most of the way. Weeeeeeee! Got home in good time, tired, dirty, and, at least for me, a little euphoric.
Comments:
Charles:
glad u like the boi
sorry BM was just that, a BM
heehee BM.
Posted by John Foley on Sunday, September 12, 2004 at 11:07 AM
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