Sunday 30 December 2012

WELL, THIS IS MY FINAL FORAY FOR 2012 . . . . TOMMOROW I'LL BE GOING OFF LIKE A FROG IN A SOCK DELIVERING VINO FOR THE MASSES . . . . IT'S BEEN A RUSH DOING THIS BLOG THING, CHATTING TO PEOPLE AROUND THE WORLD, SOME NOW ARE FRIENDS, GETTING EDUCATED, TURNED ON AND TRIPPED OUT . . . . TO MY PSYCHOS GUILD, THE BLOGS I FOLLOW, A HUGELY HAPPY AND PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR. PEACE.

 
WLP 
HERITAGE

DIVERSITY

"TEA LEAVES - YOU ARE THE SCUM OF THE EARTH" [TEA LEAF = THIEF] . . . . WENT TO A MATE'S PREMATURE NEW YEAR'S EVE BASH LAST NIGHT, JUST DROPPED IN TO SAY GIDDAY TO A WHOLE BUNCH OF REALLY GOOD FRIENDS . . . . FORTY FIVE MINUTES I WAS THERE, BIKE PARKED RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE . . . . WENT TO LEAVE, FEELING STOKED . . . . SOME SHITBAG HAS STOLEN MY FUCKING GOGGLES !!!

IT'S ALWAYS BEEN A SAD IRONY TO ME THAT IN OVER THIRTY YEARS OF LIVING THE SAME KIND OF LIFESTYLE YOU CAN GO TO SHOWS, PUBS, GIGS, PARTIES, WORKSHOPS, CLUB RIDES, WHATEVER, LEAVE ALL YOUR KIT ON YOUR SCOOT KNOWING WHEN YOU RETURN IT'LL BE THERE . . . . IN UNDER AN HOUR AT A DEAR MATE'S HOUSE AND IN COMPANY OF CLOSE FRIENDS AND GOOD TIMES, SOME CUNT FIGURES THAT THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO TAKE MY PROPERTY . . . . WELL FUCKHEAD, I'M NOT A VIOLENT MAN BY NATURE BUT YOU BETTER HOPE I DON'T SEE YOU WEARING SOME BROWN LEATHER AND BRASS HALCYON'S WITH SOME DEGREE OF PATINA AND TARNISHING CAUSE I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, I'LL TEAR YOUR HEAD OFF FIRST THEN REMOVE MY GOGGLES . . . . GIVEN THIS STYLE IS SCARCELY, IF AT ALL, AVAILABLE IN OZ AND CERTAINLY THE ONLY PAIR AROUND HERE, IT'S A DEADSET GIVEAWAY YOU FUCK, LIKE MOST THIEVES, YOU'RE DUMB AS DOGSHIT . . . . I'D SUPPORT AN OPEN SEASON ON THIEVES 365 DAYS A YEAR, KILL EM ALL AT THE SLIGHTEST PROVOCATION . . . . KARMA, YOU FUCKER, IT'S HEADIN YOUR WAY . . . . DROP EM BACK TO RALPH'S PLACE, SAVE YOURSELF SOME PAIN !!!

Friday 28 December 2012

"MOVIES, MOTORCYCLES & MERLOT" - LODI'S FILM TRIBUTE TO BIKER FLICKS ['LODIFILM' POOTUBE] . . . . THE INTERJIGGER IS STILL FULL OF SURPRISES FOR THIS BLOGGER . . . . WENT LOOKIN FOR SOME GRAND FUNK RAILROAD AND RAN HEAD ON INTO THIS BITCHIN MASH-UP, FEATURING ONE OF THE RAILROAD'S BEST . . . . AND A TRUCKLOAD OF LEGEND BIKE RELATED MOVIE HIGHLIGHTS . . . . BUT MERLOT, WTF??

Don't hear too much of Grand Funk Railroad these days unfortunately, so, in an attempt to set the ledger straight I went on a wee expedition in search of the men from Michigan and, as mentioned, slammed head-on into this insane bit of mash-up work from the merlot drinkers at Lodi Film Festival . . . . couldn't believe my luck, shit does happen as the tee-shirt tells us. In just over five fabulous minutes this wild bit of footage shows scenes from a huge number of some of the coolest, most loved flicks involving bikes, bikers and bikies ever committed to celluloid, and some non bike related persons as well.

The hit list includes, Hell's Angels on Wheels, Mad Max, Any Which Way but Loose, Poker Run, Greasy Rider, Pee Wee's Big Adventure and shitloads more, all accompanied by one of Grand Funk's coolest tunes, "Sin's a Good Man's Brother", a classic blues rocker from the dudes from Flint, Michigan, a burg so often linked to modern day, in ya face doco dude, Michael Moore . . . . if you could go to sleep and dream of the best bits from your fave two wheeled themed films I reckon it would come up lookin like this . . . . giddy up !!!!

Thursday 27 December 2012

THE ELECTRIC FLAG - "FINE JUNG THING" ['THE TRIP' 1967] . . . . JEEZ I WISH I'D BEEN JUST A BEE'S DICK OLDER DURING THE LATE SIXTIES . . . . SHIT WAS SO BRAND NEW, SO TOTALLY UNIMAGINED, SO SPARKLINGLY FRESH . . . . THE ARTS, BIKES, CARS, COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS, THE VIBE . . . . THERE'S NO SHAME IN IT ALL BEING DERIVATIVE THESE DAYS . . . . AS IN DERIVED FROM, COPIED, PURLOINED, STOLEN.

ALL THIS CHOPPING OF MOTORCYCLES, HOPPING UP OF CARS, PLAYING OF ROCK AND ROLL AND BLUES, WEARING OF SPECIFIC CLOTHES, SPEAKING IN PARTICULAR TONGUES, GROWING BEARDS AND DOPE, ALL OF IT, NONE OF IT'S NEW, NONE OF IT'S ORIGINAL, NONE OF IT'S OURS, IT ALL BELONGED TO SOMEONE ELSE, WE'RE ALL WEARING HAND-ME-DOWNS IN THIS CAPER . . . . AND THAT'S WHY SOME PEOPLE'S POMPOSITY AND OUTTA WHACK EGOS REALLY GET UNDER MY FORESKIN, YOU DIDN'T INVENT THIS SHIT, YOU WEREN'T THE GROUND POINT ZERO, YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER SLIGHTLY TWEAKED FACSIMILE OF THE GENUINE ARTICLE, A PRETTY DECENT MIMIC AT BEST . . . . AND THAT'S OKAY, IT'S ALL GOOD, THIS 'THING' DESERVES TO LIVE ON, BE KEPT ALIVE AND VIBRANT BY THOSE WHO HAVE LOVED IT ALL THEIR LIVES, CONSTANTLY REBIRTHING AND METAMORPHOSING INTO THE NEXT VARIATION ON A TIME HONOURED THEME . . . . JUST STOP TRYING TO CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF SOMETHING THAT ISN'T YOURS TO OWN, YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER THIEF IN THE NIGHT OF HISTORY, ANOTHER SCENE STEALER, EVERYBODY'S DOING IT AND HAS BEEN FOREVER AND SEVERAL DAYS . . . . YOUR SHIT STINKS JUST AS BADLY AS THE REST OF US, IT'S JUST BEEN DRESSED UP IN FLANNEL, DICKIES AND VANS. 

YET ANOTHER IN A LONG LIST OF THIS YEAR'S CASUALTIES . . . . A MAN WHO REALLY KNOWS HOW TO 'GO DOWN' . . . . THE UNICORN PRINCE, THE SPIRIT OF HALF-SACK, THE LADY HUMPIN, SPORTSTER PUMPIN ALLEN FROM "LADY HUMP" . . . . ZOMBIE STEFF JUST BROKE THE NEWS THAT BLOGLAND'S KING OF COMEDY HAS SPENT FESTIVUS IN HOSPITAL . . . . BUY HIS 2011 PHOTO ANNUAL NOW AT 'LADY HUMP'

TWICE IN ONE YEAR, WHEN IT COMES TO HOSPITAL VISITATIONS, THE LADY HUMPER IS LEADING FROM THE FRONT, HE SPENT MOST OF THE NORTHERN SUMMER GIMPING AROUND ON CRUTCHES AS HIS HENCHMAN LUCKY LUCIFER WAS RECUPERATING FROM A STINT IN THE QUACK WARD . . . . IS THE ENTIRE LADY HUMP ORGANISATION JINXED ??

AS ZOMBIE STEFF WROTE, SUPPORT THIS TWISTED UNIT BY PURCHASING SOME OF HIS COOL, FUNNY, PISSTAKING SHIT HERE http://ladyhump.blogspot.com.au/ RIGHT NOW, THIS DUDE KEEPS ENTERTAINMENT LIVE AND HAPPENING . . . . BESIDES, THE WAY 2012 HAS GONE FOR AL, IF HE DIDN'T HAVE BAD LUCK HE'D HAVE NO FUCKING LUCK AT ALL . . . . DO THE RIGHT THING, HELP OUT A BUSTED UP UNICORN BREEDER.

Tuesday 25 December 2012

T'WAS THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS ON THE NORTHERN END OF THE COAST, THE SOCIAL ELITE WERE WATCHING 'ROOS ON THEIR GOLF COURSE AND EATING FRENCH TOAST . . . . IN THEIR GATED COMMUNITIES AS THEY DRINK AND THEY FEAST, THEY TAKE NATURE FOR GRANTED, WHILE THEY DESERVE IT THE LEAST . . . . MONEY'S NOT THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL, SHITLOADS OF FUCKERS WITH STACKS OF IT ARE THOUGH.

From the get go it started badly, my last call for Christmas eve was meeting a long term client at his palatial home at a high end 'gated community' at the northern end of the Coast to sort out a wine and food match for their Chrissy dinner wing ding, he's actually a cool old dude, self made squillionare, what you see is what you get, no airs and graces, no faux snob/wanker attitude, just some good old school class . . . . I'd gone on the Purple Penis to avoid getting fucked over by any one of several crawl zones in the local traffic grid, when I was getting buzzed through at the gatehouse/bunker the SS type guard dick was sceptical as to my veracity as I sat their talking into the intercom while he stared at the picture of the bloke with camo shorts, Death Machine '666' tee and grimy muleskinner boots on his monitor . . . . eventually letting me in after I answered all one hundred and fifty of his geniusly considered questions designed to show me up as the phony wine dude, violent, gun toting hardcore biker type I so clearly am, fucking dickheads with Security badges . . . . what's that shit about ???
So . . . . I've infiltrated the compound, putting along at the designated forty kph this fucking idiot woman comes running out in front of me, I mean 'in front of me', waving her fat, flabby arms like there's been some kind of scene, I come to a standstill and she's yelling some fucking gibberish at me which I can't decipher a single word of . . . . kill the motor and ask if she could go again, expecting to be asked inside for either a quick bit of the old 'rich widow in/out action' or, to pull the axe out of hubby's skull where he's lying in a pool of blood in the kitchen, no such luck with either sadly, turns out her beef was along the lines of 'do you have to make so much noise ????' . . . . I attempt to explain that in order for the motorcycle to make forward progress of its own volition the motor part of its structure must actually be operating and unfortunately I can't fix the noise level as the volume knob has fallen off, the look of complete bewilderment and horror on her trout-like face was enough to tell me she wasn't buying it in the least, I bad her a fond farewell as she kept nattering, wished her all due festive cheer to which she sneered lovingly into my eyes as I pointed the Noiseglide toward Graham's palace. The wine and food matching was sorted in a couple of minutes, he offered me a hundred bugs for my time and talent, which I graciously accepted, [fuck yeah], and I was back on the Penis Mosheen and headed for the gate.
On the ride back to Hitler Boy Security Trooper, there was a mob of roos grazing under some trees on the golf course that many of the residents play appallingly bad golf on, just down the street from the recent Flailer Bitch encounter, I pull over, cut the engine, grab the Galaxy XXII and pop some shots of the creatures, it's a tad incongruous really, roos in such an upmarket, sterile, urban setting, they were very accommodating actually, letting me get fairly close before they hopped off up the hill . . . . I turn around to walk back to the bike and there she is, Mrs Flabby Flailer, standing beside the scoot and staring daggers right at me, what the fuck, this could get ugly I suggest to only myself. Arriving within helmeted earshot, Mrs Flabby Flailer proceeds to inform me she has just spoken to Officer Genius at the Central Command Position and he is on his way to escort myself and the Purple Penis from the premises. 

I thank the delightful Mrs Hitler for her manifold kindness, mount the Penis, start the donk, give it three of four decent handfuls of air and guzzaline, which I never do, pull rapidly away from the curb, flipping her the bird at the same time and proceed to the gate . . . . about one hundred or so metres from the exit point I spot Officer Super Sloth in the Hi-Po Security Golf Cart hurtling toward me, for a moment I think about giving him the same middle fingered show of love and warm wishes I had just shared with Nazi Woman but all I could do was laugh, uncontrollably, as he watched me go past him in the opposite direction with clearly no intention of stopping as he gestured in my direction . . . . Merry Christmas Graham, enjoy your neighbours, lovely people for sure.  

Monday 24 December 2012

JUST ANOTHER DUDE MAKING MERRY IN THE YULETIDE SPIRIT . . . . WISHING ALL THE PSYCHOTICS AND OCCASIONAL CONTRIBUTORS A SPLENDIDLY ENJOYABLE CHRISTMAS AND HOLIDAY PERIOD . . . . LOVEY, LARRY, OLLIE, NICKE, WES, VON HERR, LIQUOR STORE, SS70's, HERMIT, NOOT, RICH, THE DICEMEN, GUY, LADY UNICORN, MAX, THE FRENCH TWINS, ANCHORMAN ET AL . . . . SHARE THE LOVE, BE HAPPY, TRAVEL SAFE.

AND FOR MY FESTERING SEASON MUSICAL INTERLUDE SOMETHING THE GREASY GUY REMINDED ME OF THE OTHER DAY . . . . THOSE WELL KNOWN MASTERS OF THE SUEDEHEAD/BLUNT FRINGED/MULLET LOOK . . . . THE ENDEARINGLY ENDURING, SLADE . . . . C'MON FEEL THE TOYS !!!!

DEXTER PENDLETON'S TRAINWRECK - "THE BALLAD OF WHITELINEPSYCHO" . . . . AN ODE TO HUSTLING YOUR ARSE BACK HOME . . . . RUNNING AGAINST THE CLOCK, THE ROAD, THE WEATHER AND THE COPS WITH THE EVER PRESENT RADAR GUN . . . . THOUGHTS OF WANTON LUST ON THE HIGHWAY OF LIFE, WHERE SKETCHY MENTAL IMAGES OF YOUR MAIN SQUEEZE ARE ALL THAT KEEPS THE MILES WINDING DOWN.

SOME FULLY TWANGIN COUNTRY ROCK GOODNESS FOR ALL THOSE TRAVELING ON TWO WHEELS THIS FESTERING SEASON . . . . GET THERE QUICK AND GET THERE SAFE . . . . LOVE ON KIDDIES.

***** PLUG IN THE HEADPHONES AND JAM YOUR HOOF ON THE LONG PEDAL FOR BEST RESULTS.

Friday 21 December 2012

DANNY THOMAS AND SHOW CLASS - ONE CHOPPERIFFIC DOUBLE ACT THROUGHOUT THE YEAR . . . . JUST HAVIN A TRAWL THROUGH THE PAST WHILE STUFFING A BURGER IN MY MOUTH BETWEEN CALLS . . . . SHOW CLASS HAS GONE FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH AND DANNY THOMAS KEEPS KNOCKING OUT UBER CLASSY MINI DOCS . . . . IT'S A MARRIAGE MADE IN VALHALLA BY THE CHOPPER GODS THEMSELVES !!!!

WHEN IT COMES TO PURE, UNDILUTED, LOWDOWN AND DIRTY, REAL DEAL CHOPS, THESE DUDES ARE CONSISTENTLY SHOWIN SOME SERIOUS CLASS . . . . IN CAHOOTS WITH THE OTHER EDITORIAL STAFF, DS TIM IS HELPING STEER THIS RELATIVE NEWBIE RAG TOWARD CONTINUED SUCCESS AND A NICHE OF ITS OWN AMONG THE OTHER CONTEMPORARY MAGS MANY OF US HAVE BEEN PAWING OVER FOR SOME TIME, EITHER VIA SUBS OR COPIES AT MATES PLACES . . . . ALL THE WHILE THE NOW 'DS' DANIEL STEAMS AHEAD WITH A BURGEONING FILM MAKING CAREER DOCUMENTING THE ENTIRE SHEBANG IN A STYLISH YET GROUNDED WAY THAT VERY FEW OTHERS MANAGE TO CAPTURE, CHECK OUT THESE MORE RECENT VIDS FROM HIS EVER EXPANDING PORTFOLIO . . . . A GREAT JOB GUYS AND HERE'S TO MUCH, MUCH MORE . . . . SHOW CLASS . . . . FUCKING A !!!!

Wednesday 19 December 2012

"DAVID MANN CHOPPERFEST 2012" [720p HD 'JUNKYARDFIND'] . . . . FOR ALL THOSE FAR FLUNG SOULS WHO HAPPEN NOT TO LIVE IN CALIFORNIA . . . . SOME PRETTY COMPLETE COVERAGE OF THE DAVE MANN CAPER, GREAT STILLS OF WHAT MUSTA BEEN A HUGE PERCENTAGE OF THE ASSEMBLED SCOOTS IN ATTENDANCE . . . . A BRIEF DALLIANCE WITH THE BLING BRIGADE THEN ALL THE LEGIT SHIT, GOOD GIG !!!

I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that for any of us that have had a lifetime fascination and affliction with all that is the essence of Post WWII bike, hot rod and popular culture have also shared a similar envy for those lucky bastards who reside in the Golden State of California, where access to the shit we love is on tap 24/7/365, where it never rains, the highway is heaven and John and Panch keep it all movin in the right direction . . . . then reality kicks in and it's back to the pissing rain, the frigid fucking snow or the stinking humidity of sunny Queensland where the thoughts of ridin easy along the highways of the epicentre of the Kustom Kulture kapital of the world become just another unfulfilled dream.

I found this clip on the PooTube as I was hunting for evidence of the 2012 Mannfest of earlier in the month, it starts with a surprisingly mainstream tribute to the late namesake of the show then moves into some way more appropriate tuneage as it progress . . . . initially I also thought it was going to focus on the typical, OCC inspired two wheeled atrocities so loathed by those of of us into shit less gawdy, impractical and kook derived, to devote the best part of twelve minutes to real bikes, chops, bobs, classics, freakouts, farouts and legit cool stuff that symbolise the meaning of what not only Dave Mann was on about in his life's work, but the type of bikes that 'we' all gravitate toward, real world rides . . . . a bloody good perve as it transpired, enjoy it, and a big shoutout to 'JunkYardFind' for putting it up for us to share.

Monday 17 December 2012

JAMES BROWN "PAPA'S GOT A BRAND NEW BAG" 1967 ['IKEDYSON71'] . . . . MR JAMES BROWN WITH THE MOST INSANE RENDITION OF THIS FUNK/SOUL KILLER I'VE EVER HEARD OR SEEN . . . . ARGUABLY THE SINGLE SONG THAT GAVE BIRTH TO, AND DEFINED, A MUSICAL MOVEMENT . . . . THE GODFATHER OF SOUL BECOMES THE FATHER OF FUNK, THE VOICE OF BLACK POWER AND THE ORIGINAL BAD MOFO !!!!

THE BLACK MAN WHO DIDN'T JUST STICK HIS FOOT IN THE DOOR FOR THOSE WHO CAME AFTER HIM, HE FLAT OUT BASHED THE FUCKER DOWN, HE WASN'T ABOUT TO WAIT FOR ANY PRISSY INVITE TO THE MAINSTAGE, HE WROTE HIS OWN AND SLID, SPUN AND SQUEALED HIS WAY INTO THE SPOTLIGHT . . . . ALONG WITH NAMES LIKE DAVIS, PARKER, FITZGERALD AND ALI, HE WASN'T GONNA BE ANYBODY'S FUNKY UNCLE TOM, HE SAID IT LOUD AND PROUD FROM THE GET GO AND MEANT EVERY WORD OF IT . . . . 

EVEN AT HIS LOWEST EBB, IN JAIL AND OUTTA HIS FUCKING MIND ON BAD SHIT HE COULD STILL GET UP BETTER THAN MOST, PERSONAL TURMOIL WAS NEVER ENOUGH TO KEEP THIS BLACK HOLE FROM SUCKING THE AUDIENCE INTO HIS PULL, AN ENIGMA AS MUCH AS A MEGA STAR, CONTRADICTIONS, JUXTAPOSITIONS AND A WARDROBE FULL OF IRONIES . . . . THE SHARPEST, SEXIEST, HARDEST WORKING, HARDEST TO WORK WITH, FREAK SHOW, AFRO, MAN THIS IS MY SHOW, STRAIGHT UP GENIUS MOTHERFUCKER IN SHOWBIZ HISTORY . . . . GIVE IT UP FOR MR JAMES BROWN, THE ONE AND ONLY.

"WOW MAN, WHAT'S WITH THE HEAVY LIDS DOG, BEEN CHOOFING AGAIN ?" . . . . NO I FUCKING WELL HAVEN'T, BUT BOY AM I OVER THIS SHIT . . . . NEARLY TWO WEEKS LOOKIN LIKE A PERPETUAL STONER AND I DON'T EVEN SMOKE THE WACKY WEED ANYMORE . . . . ANTIBIOTIC EYEDROPS DON'T APPEAR TO BE WORKING TOO WELL AFTER FOUR DAYS . . . . I KNOW I'M UGLY, BUT THIS IS JUST A PAIN IN THE ARSE !!!

Like most older blokes, I just put up with any ailments until they disappear of their own accord, constitution of several fat oxen is what I've got, unfit as all hell but pretty well bulletproof when it comes to getting crook and having days off from work and life . . . . this little drama has me well and truly pissed off, what was a minor encounter with a flying insect whilst taking my specs off on the bike has now apparently gone feral and the old peeper just ain't really peepin no more, got this really grotesque, shark-like double top eyelid thing goin on, waking up with both lids superglued together is no fucking fun at all . . . . anyway, off to the quack once more to have it removed or whatever the appropriate remedy is . . . . stay beautiful peoples . . . . eye eye Captain !!!
"I'M NOT AN ANIMAL . . . . I'M A HUMAN BEING . . . . "

Saturday 15 December 2012

KEITH RICHARD - "BEFORE THEY MAKE ME RUN/RUN RUDOLPH RUN/LITTLE TITS + ASS" . . . . THE ORIGINAL, THE REAL FUCKING DEAL, THE MAN THEY COULDN'T ROOT, SHOOT OR ELECTROCUTE . . . . MR KEITH RICHARD . . . . I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT YOU RECKON, WHOEVER YOU ARE . . . . IF YOU CAN'T SEE KEEF'S CRITICAL SIGNIFICANCE IN THE HISTORY OF ROCK+ROLL . . . . YOU'RE FUCKED IN THE HEAD !!!

Don't even mention The Beatles, not even in the same game, Chuck may have written it but this man took it somewhere else, you might think you're pretty punk and all kinda hardcore, you might be covered in all the right ink and riding the coolest scoot in the world, I don't give a shit, if you don't get what this guy has always been about then you're leading an ill informed, disconnected life . . . . nobody in modern music has done it as well, as long and as legit as Keef . . . . knighthoods . . . . fuck that pissant stuff, leave it for Mick, Paul and Elton, you're either in the main game or you're just wasting time and tape, without this dude, so much simply wouldn't exist. Have a nice weekend . . . . fuckers !!!!

"WATCH MY TAIL LIGHTS FADIN, THERE AIN'T A DRY EYE IN THE HOUSE" . . . . A DASH OF POETIC LICENSE ON MY BEHALF WITH A STONES CLASSIC . . . . ONCE AGAIN, MY SOJOURN TO MIKEY'S MAGIC MOUNTAIN LEFT ME WELL AND TRULY STOKED WITH YET MORE CHOPPER GOLD . . . . THESE ROUGH DIAMONDS WILL POLISH UP JUST FINE FOR THE ARSE END OF PROJECT SHOVELLER . . . . THANKS CHOOK, LOVE YA MAN !!!

Two weeks ago I spent yet another fucking fabulous but blurry night in the company of a small group of friends I love dearly at their hilltop retreat in northern New South Wales, always a bitchin groovy occasion had by all, awesome company, superb nosh, good piss and other accoutrements appropriate to when this sort of shindig gets its freak on . . . . my man Mikey is one of the OG collectors of classic era paraphernalia pertaining to anything to do with cars, bikes, furniture, books, magazines, music, you name it, somewhere in his compound there's a chance it's there, if not, he'll know where it can be got. 

In the early evening's half light, he comes up to me and hands me a plastic bag and says 'hey man, see if you can use these' as I'm peering into the long chain polymer carryall's contents . . . . fuck, dude, use them, I love em and they're going straight onto the shoveller's rear end as tail lights and number plate illumination, instant epiphany, a deadset, 100% guaranteed certainty . . . . with a bit of soapy water, some ultra fine wet and dry and some delicate elbow grease these lenses will clean up a treat without a drama, the brightwork won't be a problem either, the two semi Caddy pieces I figure will look the boobies sitting in between the base of the girly bar just above the fender, orange and red side by side, and the two smaller ones I plan to mount above the tucked in, side mounted number plate . . . . might not be legal but I couldn't give a fuck, the bike's already registered so away we go, yee fucking ha !!!! 

None of this shit will be transpiring until the end of peak summer next year but by then I should have all I need fully gathered and ready to rock . . . . Chook, Lord of Light, Custodian of Crusty Goodness and Guardian of all things Genuwine . . . . love your work brother, thanks a truck load man !!!

MY TWELVE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER, LIZZIE, TOOK THESE TODAY OF HER CAT, SOX, REPLETE WITH FRANGIPANI MILLINERY FROM HER OWN COLLECTION . . . . WAKING UP TO THE TRAGIC NEWS OF ANOTHER MASS SHOOTING INVOLVING CHILDREN SICKENED ME TO THE CORE . . . . IT'S A GLOBAL COMMUNITY WE LIVE IN AND ANYONE WITH KIDS MUST SURELY BE ETERNALLY GRATEFUL TO HAVE THEM SAFE AND WITH US.

CHERISH YOUR CHILDREN EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY AND TRY TO CONTEMPLATE THE HELL THAT THE PARENTS, KIDS, TEACHERS, FAMILIES, COPS, TOWNSFOLK OF NEWTOWN, CONNECTICUT, AND BEYOND, WILL HAVE TO ENDURE, NOT ONLY AT THIS TIME OF THE YEAR, BUT FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES . . . . I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO IMAGINE THE MAGNITUDE OF THAT KIND OF SORROW . . . . I LOVE YOU LIZZIE-DOSCIOUS, SO VERY MUCH . . . . PEACE EVERYBODY, TO YOU AND YOURS.

"ANOTHER NIGHT, ANOTHER SERVO" . . . . SIX HOURS ON THE ROAD AND I'M GONNA MAKE IT HOME TONIGHT . . . . TWO WHEELS GOES BEYOND THE WHOLE POST GREASY SLIDERS FREEDOM TRIP . . . . IT'S A MEDICALLY CERTIFIED PANACEA, AT LEAST IT BLOODY WELL SHOULD BE . . . . REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE A KID AND ON YOUR BIKE YOU COULD SIMPLY RIDE AWAY FROM ALL THE TROUBLES AT HOME ??

Everyone who rides knows the feeling intrinsically and probably has since they first got the hang of riding a pedally, once you've got it down pat the first thought that comes into your little mind is not 'when can I pull a wheelie', 'how long can I do a skid' or 'when am I gonna be able to jump like Evel Knievel' . . . . no, I reckon it is the simple realisation of 'poop, I can ride me away from home, as far as my little legs can take me !!', and from that moment on it's that feeling that resonates the deepest and the strongest . . . . the only thing that changes is that by the time you get your first motorbike, especially a road registered one, the distance you can put between yourself and what you want to escape from goes from not quite far enough to 'how far do I want to go ?'
Between bent cars, burnt legs, bummer work deals, ten days with an infected and swollen eye, by the time I pulled the pin on my day gig at four p.m all I could think of doing was throwing a leg over the Penis Mobile and setting sail for just about any fucking where . . . . left home at five, gassed the model up and headed up into the Hinterland, no specific destination, just ride and let the journey take care of itself, and it did. Nearly six hours and one and a half tanks worth of guzaline later I was back in the world without too much memory of exactly where I'd been . . . . I mean I knew where, but the recall of the trip was just a sketchy, hazy bunch of nano-second flashes that didn't gel cohesively or seem to make any real sort of sense, all that I was feeling was totally fucking drained to the point of shivering and yawning simultaneously and home was where I needed to be . . . . mountains, open country roads, cars with high beam on 'lock', idiots not moving over after they'd passed a car, a wrong turn, a near miss with a possum and whitelining at near 160kph were the dominant visions that I had imprinted in my now shagged mind as I sit here trying to summon some clarity. 

Perhaps the nature of the week's goings on had just fucked with my sanity momentarily, maybe I'm simply getting old . . . . or possibly I'd had some fucking bizarro encounter with the Twilight Zone somewhere this side of Beaudesert . . . . I don't rightly know, all I know is that I got as far away from my problems of the week that was possible to achieve in a short space of time, physically and psychologically . . . . just ride she said.  

Friday 14 December 2012

"THINKING OUTSIDE THE SQUARE - THE COURAGE OF CONVICTION AND THE STRENGTH OF SELF BELIEF" . . . . THE LAST DECADE PLUS HAS SEEN SOME TRULY INNOVATIVE AND UNIQUE INTERPRETATIONS ON THE CLASSIC CHOPPER FORM GAINING EXPOSURE . . . . SOME OF THOSE WHO DARED TO BE DIFFERENT HAVE FALLEN BY THE WAYSIDE, CRUSHED BENEATH THE WHEELS OF FAD AND FASHION.

HOWEVER, A TINY PERCENTAGE HAVE GONE ON TO FORGE FOR THEMSELVES RESPECTED PASTS AND BRIGHT FUTURES . . . . 'SLIM' CRANFORD IS ONE OF THOSE FEW, SHIT, THIS GUY DOESN'T EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE THE EXISTENCE OF THE WORD 'LIMITS' OR 'BOUNDARIES' . . . . TWO OF HIS HAND FABBED, LEFT OF CENTRE, PARALLEL BRAINSPACE CONCOCTIONS ARE STILL TO THIS DAY AMONG MY MOST ADMIRED AND LOVED BIKES EVER TO COME OUT OF SOMEONE'S BACKYARD . . . . THEY'RE FEATURED HERE FOR THAT REASON AND THE FACT THEY ARE THE EPITOME OF CREATIVE AND ARTISTIC TALENT THAT COMES FROM SOMEWHERE THAT MOST OTHERS NEVER MANAGE TO TAP INTO LET ALONE HARNESS . . . . 

BEING DIFFERENT PURELY FOR THE SAKE OF ITSELF IS SOMETHING ANY HALFWIT WANKER CAN ACHIEVE, [OCC], TO HAVE IT SYNTHESIZE ORGANICALLY AND COMPLETELY IS A WHOLE OTHER BARREL OF MONKEY SPUNK . . . . VIVA LA SLIM !!!

***** PHOTOS COURTESY OF SLIM'S FAB BLOGSPOT . . . . CHEERS MATE.

THE MODELS - "LOCAL &/OR GENERAL" (1981) . . . . TOTAL MOTHERFUCKER OF A DAY . . . . CRASHED THE CAR WITH MY DAUGHTER ON BOARD . . . . SCREWED IN THE ARSE BY A JACKOFF ACCOUNT THAT'S BEEN MORE TROUBLE THAN THEIR PATHETIC SOULS ARE EVER WORTH . . . . BURNT MY FUCKING LEG ON THE PIPE OF THE PURPLE PENIS . . . . SOMETIMES A BAD DAY GOES ON FOREVER . . . . FUCK IT, TIME FOR BED !!

Tuesday 11 December 2012

VINTAGE TROUBLE "BLUES HAND ME DOWN" . . . . THIS IS WHAT HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH COULD'VE SOUNDED LIKE IF THEY HAD ANY SOUL . . . . SADLY THEY DIDN'T, THE REST IS A TALE IN ORDINARY . . . . THESE DUDES THANKFULLY SOUND NOTHING LIKE FUCKING HOOTIE OR A BLOWFISH . . . . THEY SOUND FUCKING GOOD, OOZING SOUL, CLASS AND CHARISMA . . . . GOOD OLE FASHIONED RHYTHM AND BLUES !!!!

"SCODECITY DAVID MANN CHOPPERFEST RIDE 2011" ['SCODECITY'] . . . . MEANWHILE, IN ANOTHER PART OF TOWN . . . . ALL I KNOW ABOUT THE SCODESTERS IS THAT THEY HAIL FROM SAN DIMAS, CALIFORNIA, THEY RIDE AND THEY LIKE ROCK AND ROLL . . . . THIS IS FROM LAST YEAR, I CRASHED INTO THIS WHILE HUNTING FOR FOOTAGE FROM THIS YEAR'S DAVID MANN SHINDIG . . . . WORTH A SQUIZ I RECTION.

STASH THIS ONE UNDER . . . . "LOW BUCK, LO-FI, LOW CHOLESTROL, HIGH SPEED, KEEP IT REAL"
THE NAME OF THE GAME IS "CHOPPERS IS CHOPPERS . . . . THINK OUTSIDE THE SHIELD"

"MOONEYES YOKOHAMA HOT ROD AND CUSTOM SHOW 2012 No.2" ['え ほ' POOTUBE] . . . . SOME MORE SICKLE ACTION FROM THIS YEAR'S MOONEYES SPESHTACULOID EVENT . . . . I ASSUME THIS IS PART OF THE 'RIDE IN', [NON-ENTRANT ?], TAKEN FROM THE OUTSIDE . . . . ANYHOO, WHATEVER, A BUNCH OF DUDES ON CHOPS, BOBS AND CUSTOMS MAKING THEIR WAY INTO THE BELLY OF THE BEAST . . . . BANZAI !!!

THE DEPTH AND SCOPE OF THIS GIG CONTINUES TO AMAZE ME YEAR IN, YEAR OUT, PARTICULARLY GIVEN AS IT'S NOT A MAINSTREAM MANUFACTURER ENDORSED AND FUNDED, MEGA-SHLOCK EVENT, FROM SCANT COVERAGE IN SMALL, ALTERNATIVE KULTURE MAGS AND PUBLICATIONS BACK THEN TO MAJOR AND DESERVED ATTENTION AROUND THE GLOBE OF TODAY, THIS BABY KEEPS ON BETTERING ITSELF WITH EACH INCARNATION . . . . WHO'D HAVE THUNK TWENTY YEARS AGO IT WOULD ATTAIN BOTH THE POPULARITY AND SUCCESS THAT IT UNDOUBTEDLY HAS, PROVING THAT GOING LARGE ISN'T ALWAYS A BAD THING . . . . JUST MAINTAIN YOUR INTEGRITY AND KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD . . . . IT AIN'T NO BUMMER IN YOKOHAMA !!!

Sunday 9 December 2012

"TODAY WAS A GOOD DAY" . . . . SO CLOSE TO HOME YET FAR ENOUGH AWAY TO BE A WHOLE OTHER PLANET . . . . SUNDAY ARVO RIDES ARE ALWAYS AN ENJOYABLE CONCERN FOR ME . . . . A FREQUENT DESTINATION SOUTH OF THE BORDER REMAINS BLISSFULLY UNFUCKED BY THE TAINT OF MODERN TIMES . . . . SAY GIDDAY TO THE TUMBULGUM PUB . . . . SAY GOODBYE TO ARTIFICIALITY AND BULLSHIT !!!!

Slept in this morning, needed to after simply too much of many good things the night before, it's not often that I miss an early away on a Sunday but shabby is as shabby does, so the morning flight plan was scrubbed as I smoked my way through half a pack of Marlboros and drank enough caffeine to keep an army of truckers on the move and pissed about on the interthingy . . . . went and picked up my dear octogenarian mum from her place of worship, home for lunch and by the time I'd fed ma belly the sky was clear, the temperature was hot but not super humid and it was time to get the fuck outta Sufferers Parasite and into the weird blue yonder. 
Even my propensity to encounter orificers of the law was not going to keep me away from the long way over the mountains, across the border and down to the groovy little sugarcane town of Tumbulgum on the banks of the beautiful Tweed River . . . . typical Aussie mountain roads, lots of twisty bits, some decent surfaces and some fucking shocking, B-grade, mortar crater filled goat track, nonetheless there are gorgeous views of some ancient volcanic plugs and towering granite cliffs, a low level prison and always the chance of an encounter with wallabies, roos, wombats and complete idiot riders going way beyond their actual capabilities.
It was a bloody fantastic two hours on the Purple Penis, no cops, no kooks, no creatures and no new mega size potholes to throw spanners at my works, a perfect arvo on two wheels, that feeling that stays with you every second you're in the saddle was at its absolute zenith, that's why we do this shit, that is the be all and end all, the Zen of Motorcycling, minus the maintenance, total fucking bliss !!!

To cap it all off while I was chillin with some of the good, honest, local folk from the American MC at the Tumby pub, sipping a frosty ale and shooting the pleasant late afternoon breeze, some classic two wheeled action rocked up to get me salivating in my beer . . . . first on the scene was the lovely 1970 K1 750/4, bloke's had it for thirty plus years, a totally together and purposeful bit of kit for he and his missus, complete with period Rickman Ace bars and a very tastefully modded Guzzi bikini fairing . . . . followed shortly thereafter by a delightful 1973 RD 350 Yammy, original fucking everything, paint, badges, pipes, levers, indicators, seat, guards, shocks, the entire box and dice, and it sounded sweet as a nut, no ghastly two stroke clatter and cackle, rather the nice muted tones of one of the crossed tuning fork mob's finest mid size rockets in utterly fine fettle . . . . I love bikes !!!

It wasn't going to get any better than that, I said my goodbyes, threw the lid back on, pointed the steer tire to the north and headed for home . . . . all was good with my world, well, as good as I have a right to expect.

2012横浜ホットロッドカスタムショーバイク特集【BBB】. . . . WHAT ??? YOU CAN'T READ JAPANESE ??? WHAT THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH YOU ??? SOME GREAT FOOTAGE FROM THE 2012 MOONEYES GIG . . . . A SCHWEET OVERVIEW OF PROCEEDINGS WITH SOME TASTY CLOSE-UPS ON DETAIL OFTEN MISSED . . . . FEEL THE APPRECIATION FOR THE VIBE AT THE THING . . . . A LOT OF LOVE IN THE ROOM TONIGHT LADIES !!!

Damn, I want to get my arse over to this caper el pronto, this is as close to heaven on earth when it comes to  a massive conglomeration of all the things in life that I hold sacrosanct and it always seems to be done with the precision, dedication and absolute fucking mad devotion that only the Jappy boys seem to be able to muster . . . . if they're doing something, it's always gonna be balls out, pedal to the metal, all or nothing type shit, yeah, fucking A1 guaranteed brilliant . . . . enjoy this one Moonheads and custom freaks !!!! Big love to BBB for throwing it up on the PooTube.

LFO "FREAK" [HIGH DEFINITION/H.Q AUDIO] . . . . DUG UP FROM THE OLDIES BUT STILL DISTURBING FILES . . . . LIKE A DOSE OF APHEX TWIN ON ALMOST HAPPY GAS COMES THIS TWISTED TRAUMA TALE OF DANCE MUSIC OVERKILL . . . . AN OBJECT LESSON ON THE PERILS OF EXPOSURE TO HIGH LEVELS OF DOOF-DOOF . . . . AH, DANCE MUSIC, FUCKING WITH YOUNG KIDS MINDS AND MORALS AROUND THE WORLD SINCE 1991.

"THIS IS GOING TO MAKE YOU FREAK" OR "UNDERCURRENTS AND UNDERTOWS"

"RAGE" WAS PLAYING THIS THIS MORNING AND I HADN'T HEARD IT FOR FUCKING AGES, I AIN'T NO GREAT FAN OF DOOF-DOOF BY ANY STRETCH OF EVEN MY IMAGINATION BUT THE CLIP ALONE BRINGS IT ALL TOGETHER FOR MINE . . . . NOT TOO FAR REMOVED FROM THE UNSETTLING, UNEASY, UNCOMFORTABLE AND SLIGHTLY MALEVOLENT NATURE OF THE VIDEOS RELEASED BY CHRIS CUNNINGHAM, THE TWISTED, GENIUS FUCKER BEHIND 'APHEX TWIN' AND ALL ACCOMPANYING CLIPS . . . . ANYTIME YOU'RE FORCED TO SIT ON THE RAZOR'S EDGE AND CONTEMPLATE THE POTENTIAL OF SOMETHING JUST NOT QUITE RIGHT IN SOMETHING OR SOMEONE SO INNOCENT IS A GOOD TIME, I RECKON . . . . [666]

Saturday 8 December 2012

THE WHO "MY GENERATION" . . . . FOR MR HIPS AND HIS VOX COLLECTION . . . . FOUR LONDON LADS 'WHO' WERE IN MANY WAYS "THE VOX POPULI" FOR AN ENTIRE GENERATION . . . . THEY STOOD OUT LIKE DOG'S BALLS FOR ALL THE BEST ROCK AND ROLL REASONS . . . . IF YOU HAVEN'T DONE IT YET, GO CHECK OUT 'THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT' FOR AN INSIGHT INTO THE ORIGINAL 'MOD SQUAD' . . . . F-F-F-FUCK OFF !!!

THE LAST DAYS OF THE INTERNATIONAL SCOUT . . . . ALONE IT SITS, NEGLECTED AND UNLOVED, ROTTING FROM THE INSIDE OUT . . . . ITS DAYS OF USEFUL SERVITUDE ALL BUT A DISTANT MEMORY . . . . NO PLANS OF REBIRTH AND REGENERATION FOR THIS PRODUCT OF THE EIGHTIES . . . . NO GRAND SCHEME TO RESTORE ITS SENSE OF PURPOSE AND DIGNITY . . . . SOMETIMES THEY COME BACK, SOMETIMES THEY DON'T.

THE TEMPLE OF MANY A-SPLENDOURED THING . . . . O.G COLLECTOR OF EPHEMERA AND ALL THINGS OLD AND COOL, CUSTODIAN AND GUARDIAN OF YESTERYEAR . . . . YOU CAN GET ANYTHING YOU WANT AT MIKEY'S MOUNTAIN HAUNT . . . . DRAGSTERS, MID SEVENTIES SUSPENSION BMX BIKES, BEAUTIFUL BRINDLES . . . . 289ci T-BUCKET AWAITING THE JOURNEY OF REDISCOVERY . . . . OLD SHIT IS DEFINITELY COOL !!!!