biker lifestyles...... and what not, and so forth, and so on.

somewhere between heaven and hell we exist… biblically, metaphoricly and in some possible way, in our own  reality. I know personally i’ve walked this earth before, not in this body and most likely not in this century, most likely the past, but as far as i know i have not yet seen the future.
 Life has it valleys and peaks and can change as suddenly as death. The feeling of first love compared to the knee dropping pain of losing a loved one suddenly. The human emotions that some choose to wear on their sleeves and others keep deep inside tightly corked lips afraid of the vulnerability speaking

 of feelings can stir. 

     My thoughts are mush at this moment, but mush thats flowing fast, not a clear powerful river with visible rocks below but that after a storm chocolate milk river thats pushed up earth and stone. A few drinks, and a feeling that my near sightedness is fading with everyday has made me sit and overthink everything around me. Not my socks and boxer short combo, but where and who i am. So sick of being talked at by poor story tellers and bandana clad tourists experimenting with lifestyle changes. My patience is thin, and body seems to be following suit. I keep meaning to eat, right after this ride, repair, beer, coffee, excursion, or after i write this.
  North on telegraph in the top of second gear, rather than the bottom of third, on the gas solid lifters making an even ping as i steadily pass everything in sight. Not asshole style, just forward motion like a snake through tall grass. Totally lonely or totally sick of everyone is always floating between my temples. If i could of just poisoned two people at last nights dinner of eight we really could of learned a lot about each other, but unfortunately you made us suffer though a story that ended in a misfire. 

  Man  it was noisy last night with fireworks, dogs barking, and sirens. Gov’t holiday brought yo you by the good people at MGD… light the fuse, a drawn out whistle and bang. Life. Caveman. Side show circus. But who am i to judge, I’m the monkey that puts the gasoline in the tank of his noise maker machine and makes burnt fuel shoot through the pipes. My dog gets two free meals, two walks, and his belly rubbed everyday just for keeping me grounded, I’m not sure who has the harder job me or him. When the things you love become popular you have to let go and let them break, or maybe tip over and just  drain out is a better way to put it. Insta…. Instant. Haste. Why waste the haste? Put it out there. Shrink the world. Fuck we all need a pat on the back from time to time. Some of us need them constantly….. 3 times daily, and i still can’t figure out how you write with your dick jammed into your mouth.

   It’s a saturday that feels like a sunday. The kind of day that would be better spent drinking, but it was too nice of a day to drink all day so you got out and go skate but that ended meaning pushing into the wind with the sun in your eyes and getting wheel bite mid slappy and launching your shoulder straight into a poorly formed dog turd….. repeating to yourself “this shirt was free and i don’t really like it anyway”, yes uptight woman with the miniature dog that’s staring at me, i’m too old for this, that is dog shit on my shoulder, and i am pretending that i’m not in pain. Carry on, by the way…. i hate your face,sweatpants, and the way you walk. Now i’ll pick myself up and convince myself that the slam just happened from all the negativity i just judged that woman with. It was an chicken before the egg proven moment. The the slam=chicken the egg=the dog walking woman. Life’s a bitch then you eat shit in front of one. 

   I can be positive though and write about making sweet love in a van with very few dents parked on a cliff along the highway 1 and how you tasted sweet and sour and mankind will never really understand what comes out of a woman but that part of the mystery is why the heterosexual man loves the woman. The gap between the legs and tits pointed in slightly different directions, what is inside that small make-up bag? thanks for not fucking with all these black heads on my face. Remember that time when i looked over at you and we both thought the same thing but didn’t say it. I loved that time. The last few sentences i stole from a bike builder when down south that told me last year “we’re more alike than you realize”. He’s right we both jump into our pants two legs at a  time. Joking. jk. lol. ftw. 4Q

   I guess soccer is going off right now. I used to play when i was young, i preferred center half back because you can run all around the field like a wild dog and get out all your pre pube angst. When i was really little i remember everyone on the field would crowd around the ball and it would just ping pong back and forth between all the players. Pure chaos, taking cleats to the shin, and elbows to the chest. Mosh pit at 8yrs old. My dad told me “stay out of there, the ball will pop out” and sure enough it did, the very first time i stood outside the swarm. Fuck, it was so much pressure, me alone with the ball and both teams starring at me. So i just kicked the ball back in the swarm, and joined the chaos, cleats to shin elbow to chest. no pressure, just pain. That’s kind of how life feels.