LANCESCAPING'S team car...I don't even know where or how to begin. It's coming apart at the seams. Too many rules and regulations, too many hoops to jump thru. Right now, I'm of the mind to slam the door, sell all but one bicycle, ride off into the woods and become a hermit, grow a beard. Eat Van Kamp's pork-n-beans straight from the can. Roll my own cigarettes. Drink cheap whiskey. And grow a red, bulbous nose like Karl Malden...
But in the meanwhile, I find solace from some of the the best writing on the interblog, found right here, folks.
Been trying for over an hour to upload a goddamned picture to this blog but it would appear that blogger is fucked up at the moment. Or maybe I'm just descending into a vortex of cynical hate. Whatever. Got my new Phil Wood wheel mounted on the Kona so there's a glimmer of joy in the world. [edit: it worked this time, but I'm still in that vortex....]
3 comments:
Speaking as a bearded hermit in the wilderness who spends a lot of time riding his flared-drop fixed gear around the Upper Penninsula, I'm here to tell you you could do way worse than some forest outpost and two wheels. I've got a tobacco shop next door, a sandwich shop downstairs, and a brewery across the street, so shoot me an email if you need to come live "the Dream" for a couple days.
-JIM
Coming apart at the seams? Rules and regulations? Too many hoops?? WTF, man.
Step one - get good and drunk
Step two - sleep it off
Step three - Devise a great fucking plan, blow the shit out of the problem, and celebrate with some icy cold Summits.
When the going gets tough.......blah, blah, blah, yackety smackety.......step up and punch the fucker in the mouth.
Then go for a ride.
Camarosmith!
pull yourself out of that Vortex Bobby, Boomhauer has a cold one waiting for you in the alley.
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