REAL COOL SHIT - REAL BIKES, REAL CARS, REAL TUNES . . . . AND A LI'L BIT OF REAL VITRIOLIC RANTING . . . . AND A WHOLE BUNCH OF OTHER COOL STUFF THAT GIVES ME THE HORN . . . . unless otherwise stated, all words, blurbs and drivel herein are entirely mine. I hope you dig it. All my personal photos can be enlarged by clicking on the image.
Saturday, 31 August 2013
OBSERVATIONS ON A SMALL TOWN . . . . TIME TUNNEL TO A LOST WORLD, THIS USED TO BE THE OLD PACIFIC HIGHWAY, PEOPLE ARE WEIRD WHEREVER YOU GO . . . . LOTS OF SMALL DOG OWNERS, LIVING AND DYING SIMULTANEOUSLY, SO CLOSE YET SO FAR, DON'T LET IN THE OUTSIDE WORLD . . . . EVERYTHING CHANGES, EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME, WE DON'T LIKE TOURISTS BUT WE'LL SMILE AS WE TAKE YOUR MONEY . . . . OLD FASHIONED VALUES.
THE HILLS HAVE EYES AROUND HERE . . . . MIKEEYRAT, AKA CHOOK, COCKY AND MORE RECENTLY, 'ZOO G BOYEE' AND HIS GOOD LADY WIFE, LOUIE, AKA THE ORGANISER AND THE CHIEF . . . . THIS PAIR HAVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR OVER TWENTY FIVE YEARS, TRAVELED THE WORLD AS COUPLE AND RAISED A FINE YOUNG MAN . . . . THEY NOW HAVE A BURGEONING BUSINESS DOING WHAT THEY LOVE AND THEIR OWN PIECE OF PARADISE . . . . REAL FRIENDS.
LOTS OF GOOD THINGS IN LIFE COST MONEY, FRIENDSHIP IS ONE THAT IS ALWAYS FREE OF CHARGE AND IT LASTS FOREVER . . . . MONEY CAN'T BUY YOU LOVE.
BEHIND THE LIGHT . . . . STILL INTRIGUED BY HER HANDSOME MAN
ZOO G BOYEE . . . . AS ALWAYS, ON THE PROWL, ACCUMULATING KNOWLEDGE
"NO MICHAEL, YOU DO IT LIKE THIS . . . . SEE, THAT'S BETTER, ISN'T IT ?"
ON BAD DAYS MIKEEYRAT MORPHS INTO THIS PRECOCIOUS LITTLE MAN . . . . BOOM !!!!
Thursday, 29 August 2013
POST # 1000 . . . . NOTHING COULD MAKE ME HAPPIER THAN POSTING SOMETHING SPECIAL ON THIS MODEST OCCASION . . . . SOME GUYS GET DEALT SHITTY HANDS AND MANAGE TO NOT ONLY BOUNCE BACK BUT MAINTAIN A POSITIVE OUTLOOK AND SPIRIT . . . . THE LONGER YOU LIVE, THE MORE YOU RECOGNISE THOSE WHO POSSESS THIS QUALITY . . . . LEE BENDER SENT ME HIS UNIQUE RECOLLECTION OF HIS GET OFF EARLIER THIS YEAR . . . . ONESICKRACE INDEED !!!
NOTES ON THE DAY BEFORE . . . . SOMEWHERE IN BRIS VEGAS, ANOTHER ADDITION TO OUR PORTFOLIO OF FINE PISS, THE BEST RANGE OF WINES I'VE TASTED IN SIX YEARS, GREAT PINOT NOIR KICKS ARSE, MAGICAL . . . . DINNER WITH MISTER CHAOS, FIRST CLASS NOSH, NO WAITER'S FRIEND, COMFORTABLE SHACK, HUGE SHED . . . . ABSTRACT SHADOWPLAY, SUPPORT THE YARTZ, SOMBRERO FALLOUT, OLD PUNKS JUST KEEP ON GOING . . . . CLOSE MATES RULE !!!
Drove to HQ in Bris Vegas first thing to meet the winemaker from the new label our mob has just picked up and to sample his wares . . . . fuck me, what a mindblowing stable of insane booze, his pinots are worth killing for, the king of wines, less is more, ethereal, complex, genuine mouthfuck material, makes great shiraz look big, dumb and stupid . . . . turning people onto orgasmic vino like this gives me the full horn !!!
Robby Muller, aka Rob Chaos or Ringmaster Rob, good friends for thirty three plus years, still the same bloke he's always been, like most of my best buddies have managed to do, no bullshit, no airs and graces, what you see is what you get, working to live, never the other way round, doing what makes you happy keeps you young . . . . on two acres of prime isolation in the middle of suburbia you'll find 'Castle Chaos', good shit to good people, love ya man.
Tuesday, 27 August 2013
THERE'S ALWAYS BEEN A PERCEPTION THAT THE 'CHOPPER THANG' HAS ITS EPICENTRE ON THE WEST COAST OF THE U.S OF A, EVEN MORE SPECIFICALLY L.A AND FRISCO . . . . LIKELY FAIR ENOUGH TO A DEGREE . . . . IRONIC THEN THAT IT TOOK A COUPLE OF LOWBROW MISFITS FROM THE BIG APPLE TO REINVIGORATE WHAT BY THE 80's HAD MOSTLY BECOME AN ODE TO SOFT, BLOATED EXCESS . . . . THE SHOCKWAVES ARE STILL FELT FROM IOWA TO ICELAND.
THERE'S LOTS OF GUFF OUT THERE TO FEAST YOUR PEEPERS ON REGARDING THIS HIGHLY INFLUENTIAL CREW OF HARDCORE AXEMEN BUT ONE THAT COMES TO MIND FROM MORE RECENT TIMES IS A PIECE THAT GUY AT GKM PENNED NOT LONG AFTER THE SLIMEY LIMEY'S DEPARTURE FROM THIS MORTAL COIL . . . . GO AND CHECK IT OUT IF YOU HAVEN'T, RUNNING A GIG THAT INCLUDED STEG VON HEINTZ, INDIAN LARRY AND A YOUNG PAUL COX MUSTA BEEN A HELLUVA TRIP . . . . CHOPPIN SHIT UP IN NYC.
Monday, 26 August 2013
NEKO CASE "FURNACE ROOM LULLABY" . . . . YET ANOTHER ARTIST I'VE BEEN PROMPTED TO EXPLORE MORE FULLY CARE OF THE ANCHORMAN FROM K.C . . . . I ADMIRE GREATLY THE DUDES WHO PUT THEIR HEARTS AND SOULS ON THE LINE IN THIS WORLD OF PRETTY PICS AND FLEETING MOMENTS . . . . THE WRITTEN WORD WILL ALWAYS MOVE ME WHEN IT SPILLS TO THE PAGE LIKE BLOOD FROM A WOUND . . . . TURN ME ON, LIFT ME UP, LEARN ME SOMETHING.
Until yesterday, Neko Case was just a singer/songwriter I knew the name of but beyond that, fuck all else, a tune or two vaguely recalled from the radio and CMT, but no background, no reason to drag me in and open me up to the nature of the beast, not that I didn't want to be, the right input had never been something I could grab onto, the connection remained down . . . . doing the blog scan yesterday while my daughter was doing her homework I lobbed onto the voice of Underground Kansas City music, mo'cycles and history, Mr Ricky from Anchor Motoshop and he had his almost weekly Top Five thing going on, this one featuring Miss Neko Case. The Anchorman gives it all from the heart, every ounce of passion inked on his multicolored arm, no punches pulled, no territory too sacred, life as it is, not as you wish it was . . . . so here I am, twenty four transcontinental hours and thousands of miles away, enlightened, learned and buzzing on 'really' discovering the depth and beauty of a chick and her music that up to yesterday was just another vaguely recalled name on the merry-go-round of life, the connection's been made, I'm a better soul, cheers Grumpy Pants, don't change a motherfuckin thing !!!
Sunday, 25 August 2013
DEMOLITION PARTY CIRCA 1984, MYSELF IN A LINEUP WHOSE NAME I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER, GOOD MATES IN 'COMPLETE CHAOS', THE CROWD AND THE COPS . . . . ONE OF ONLY FAR TOO MANY OF MY SPONTANEOUS LIAISONS WITH ORIFICERS OF THE LAW OVER THE LAST THIRTY FOUR YEARS . . . . I THINK I WAS SAYING SOMETHING SORTA LIKE 'YES CUNTSTABLE, WE'LL GET HIM TO CHANGE THOSE RIDICULOUS SHORTS BUT WE CAN'T TURN IT DOWN ANY LOWER'
TOM WAITS "BIG IN JAPAN" . . . . KILLER DITTY FROM ONE OF FEW ARTISTS WHO HAS NEVER ALLOWED HIMSELF THE INDIGNITY OF BECOMING MUSIC INDUSTRY FODDER . . . . DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE WHO ARE FILLED WITH A XENOPHOBIC LIKE FEAR OF THE BOYS FROM THE LAND OF THE RISING SUN AND THE WAY THEY INTERPRET THE 'AMERICAN DREAM' . . . . WHAAA, NO FAIR, THEY STOLE ALL OUR BIKES, OOOOH, THEY COPY ALL OUR STUFF . . . . POINTY HEADS UNITE !!!
THE GREAT "NEW BIKE VS OLD BIKE DEBATE", BOTH SIDES ARE LOSERS SIMPLY BY DISCLUDING THE EXISTENCE OF ANY MERIT IN THE OTHER . . . . I LOVE OLD BIKES, OWNED THEM, RIDDEN THEM, WORKED ON THEM, BEEN PARTNER IN A BIKE SHOP SPECIALIZING IN THEM, TOTALLY LOVE EM . . . . NOT A MONSTER FAN OF ANYTHING NEW, PARTICULARLY CARS AND BIKES BUT THEY'RE NOT ALL BAD . . . . RIDE THE HELL OUT THEM AND THEY VERY QUICKLY BECOME OLD.
I wrestled with the dilemma of new versus old for the best part of four years before finally shelling out the clams for the skirtster back in August of 2010, knowing full well that in the eyes and opinions of many I'd be forever consigned to the 'noob', hipster, loser category of the global two wheeled cultural community. Only an old bike can do this, only an old bike does that, only an old bike is cool . . . . well, guess what . . . . it's right but it's wrong, it's true but it's false and mostly, it gives a whole mess of Johnny's-come-lately the crutch they need to feel like they've been part of something for a lot longer than they actually have, not to mention a cool prop to have in the background of the shots of them resplendent in the mandatory Pendleton, denim, Redwings and beards, as though they were the ones who came up with it all in the first place . . . . just remember, all those miles, all that time applied patina, the accumulation of grease and road grime was made possible by the previous owners and the passage of time, you're just cashing in on someone else's cool, I know it because I've done it and will do it again with Project Shoveller, there's nothing wrong with it, just don't over inflate your role in it, you're only a recent, blow-in custodian.
The thing I'm really loving about the Purple Penis as it approaches 50,000 klms on the clock and three years in my hands as only the second bike I've owned since new, is that every single scratch, each and every wear mark, all the tires it's chewed up, the bearings and bushes it's worn out have all been done with only my fat arse in the saddle, when it does finally take the inevitable dump while under power and umpteen miles from home, all the accumulated fatigue and stress that has led to that failure has been arrived at with only my hand on the throttle, with only my toe kicking on the gearshift and with only my foot dabbing on the brake pedal . . . . and to be brutally and bluntly honest, that is exactly why I bought it in the first place, it's never going to be sold, swapped or scrapped, because one day it will be twenty five years old and possessed of it's own life story and an equally rich patina, no matter what has changed at the Motor Company's HQ or in production methods for the worse, it'll be just another dumb, lovable, idiosyncratic old motorcycle . . . . I can guarantee you of that.
DIRTY, DUSTY AND ANOTHER 300 KLMS UNDER MY WHEELS . . . . GETTING OLDER BY THE DAY
Saturday, 24 August 2013
JUST A PAIR OF GROWN MEN DRINKING BEER, TELLING LIES AND MESSING ABOUT WITH TOY CARS . . . . IT DOESN'T GET ANY BETTER . . . . THE 43:1 FORD 'THUNDERBOLT' MIKEEYRAT PRODUCED JUST BEFORE THE THIRD BOTTLE OF VINO KNOCKED MY TITS OFF . . . . THE DETAIL ON THE BODY IS SO PRECISE, EVEN THE WEAK POINT OF MANY DIE-CAST CARS, THE WHEEL/TIRE RATIO, IS BANG ON . . . . AND THE 'PATINA' OF FINE DUST GAVE IT A SUPERB SENSE OF REALISM.
IF YOU'RE INTO THE HISTORY OF FACTORY MUSCLE CARS OF THE SIXTIES AND AREN'T FAMILIAR WITH THE THUNDEROUS FORD 'THUNDERBOLT' AND ITS PLACE IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS THEN GO AND DO SOME RESEARCH . . . . RIGHT UP THERE WITH THE WILDEST STUFF THAT ROLLED OUTTA THE MOPAR GROUP'S PLANTS AND RARE AS ROCKING HORSE SHIT . . . . THE BLUE OVAL, BIG BLOCK, BULLY BOY !!!
THERE'S A NEW A HOUND IN TOWN AT THE MOUNTAIN RETREAT, A GANGLY YOUNG PUP WITH FUCKING HUGE FEET . . . . BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON HE WANDERED AND PROWLED, WHEN THE GOING GOT TOUGH, HE THREW IN THE TOWEL . . . . MIKEEY AND LOUIE'S NEW ADDITION TO THE FAMILY, MR PAUL DIGGS ESQUIRE, ONCE AN ABUSED DOG, NOW A PART OF A LOVING, CARING FAMILY . . . . SECOND IN LINE TO THE QUEEN CANINE, MISS TUI BRINDLE GIRLY PANTS.
Friday, 23 August 2013
SCHTARKER, ZIS IZ KAOS, VE DON'T PHHHHTTT ROUND HERE . . . . IT WAS ALL I COULD THINK OF AT SHORT NOTICE, AS MOST OF THIS GOBBLEDIGOOK TENDS TO BE, DRIBBLING FROM THE HEART IS WHAT I CALL IT . . . . THIS ARRIVED FROM THE U.S POSTAL SERVICE THE OTHER DAY, THE 'RED BARON' BY TOM DANIEL IN 1/43rd SCALE . . . . CLEAN BLOWN AWAY, THE DETAIL IS OUTSTANDING . . . . THE RUSH IT GIVES ME HOLDING IT MY HAND IS AUSGEZEICHNET, YA !!!
Thursday, 22 August 2013
A STRANGE THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE STUDIO . . . . IN THE CAR, SITTING ON 70 KPH, RUNNING LATE ON THE WAY TO THE STUDIO, I SEE A BIKE COMING UP QUICKISH IN MY MIRROR, LOWISH HEADLIGHT, BIG, BULKY SILHOUETTE . . . . I FIGURE MAYBE A V-ROD, BIGGISH CRUISER, ST1000, SOMETHING SIZABLE YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN . . . . DRAWS ATHWARTSHIPS ON THE STARBOARD SIDE OF THE VINO MOBILE AND I GLANCE TO THE RIGHT . . . . DAYUM !!!
THIS BIG FELLA, [AND I DO MEAN 'BIG' AND OF ENORMOUS GIRTH IN THE MIDRIFF] ON THE WEE 'SQUATTER' DOING AROUND THE 75-80 KAY MARK, PICTURE PERFECT YE OLDE ENGLISH RIDING POSTURE, EYES FOCUSED IN A THOUSAND YARD STARE ON SOME DISTANT, UNKNOWN TO ME, DESTINATION, ON THE PIN, FULL NOISE, KNEES IN THE CRISP WINTER BREEZE, SWEET AS YOU FUCKING PLEASE . . . . THE WAIL OF THAT 100cc TWO STROKER BUZZING IT'S WAY ALONG LIKE A McCULLOCH CHAINSAW ON CRACK, TRANSPORTING THIS NOT INSUBSTANTIAL YOUNG GENT TO HIS SECRET RENDEZVOUS WITH SOMETHING AND POSSIBLY SOMEONE, WAS REALLY A SIGHT TO BEHOLD AND WORTHY OF MY AMATEUR ATTEMPTS TO CAPTURE IT FOR BLOG POSTERITY . . . . AT THE VERY MOMENT I FINGERED THE GO BUTTON I WAS IMMEDIATELY STRUCK BY AN UNEXPECTED EPIPHANY, THE BIG UNIT ON THE DISPROPORTIONATELY TINY SCOOTER WAS DOING IT, LIVING HIS DREAM, I WAS IN MY WARM, COMFY CAR AND THERE WAS HE, IN SHORTS AT ABOUT EIGHT DEGREES CELCIUS, ON TWO WHEELS, DEEP IN THE MOMENT ONLY RIDING A BIKE CAN GIVE YOU, DUDE, ROLL ON . . . . FTW/TWF
"THE RIDE" GESTALTEN. TV @ 'WHEELS AND WAVES' . . . . THE GESTALT IS NOW, OR THEN, AS THE CASE MAY BE HERE . . . . I THINK THIS IS ONLY THE SECOND YEAR OF 'WHEELS AND WAVES' AT BIARRITZ, FRANCE AND THIS EASY ON THE EYE CLIP SEEMS TO CAPTURE THE VIBE PRETTY WELL . . . . IT'S BEEN FEATURED ON A COUPLE OF BLOGS ALREADY BUT IT'S WORTH PUTTING UP ALL OVER AGAIN . . . . SOME COOL SCOOTS, TASTY TUNEAGE AND SWEET SCENERY . . . . OUI !!!
GETTING OUT THERE, RIDING, MEETING NEW FOLK, SHOOTIN THE SHIT, HAVING FUN . . . . MERCI !!!!
Tuesday, 20 August 2013
CHILDISH, JUVENILE, IMMATURE, RETARDED, SILLY, RIDICULOUS, STUPID, DUMB . . . . BY ANY ESTIMATION I RESEMBLE ALL OF THOSE WORDS SO FREQUENTLY DIRECTED AT BLOKES MY AGE WHO CONTINUE COLLECTING THE SAME TOYS WE PLAYED WITH AS KIDS . . . . IT COMES AS NO SURPRISE TO ME THAT WE'RE NOT THE ONES GOING THROUGH A MID-LIFE CRISIS, FREAKING OUT ABOUT TURNING FIFTY AND LOSING CONTROL OF THEIR DULL, MONOTONOUS EXISTENCE.
Like a lot of you my age, I didn't specifically decide one day as a kid, 'hey, I'm never going to grow up and become the thing society wants me to be' but I did inherently 'know' within myself that I'd never stop being moved by the stuff that rocked my world as a kid, the old chestnut about becoming a man and putting away childish things never rang true in my head, and it still doesn't . . . . the only thing that resonates in my heart and soul is to continue happily on following my own path, digging the shit I love and not giving a flying, furry fuck about the expectations of others and I know I ain't the only one. Every single time I run into one of many mates who has spent the majority of his adult life being a something that was expected of him all I see is a bloke getting ever closer to having a meltdown and chucking it all in . . . . never surrender the wanderlust of youth, cling tight to the simple pleasures of childhood and hold fast to the pursuit of your dreams and ideals, live your life, don't live somebody else's, be true to yourself, it mightn't end in riches beyond compare but from what I can ascertain, it beats the fuck outta selling your soul to do the thing you never really wanted to do in the first place, you'll avoid the high blood pressure, the stress, the worry and the rest of the shit that sends so many screaming into their nearest Harley franchise to buy the bike they always wanted but were too afraid to actually get . . . . along with the license to go with it.
By the way, I like Hot Wheels cars, began accumulating them once more back in '92 or thereabouts, the reissue 'Redline' series, the cool contemporary examples, Treasure Hunts, Johnny Lightnings too, Toy Story merch, Lost in Space stuff and much more, just to replace so much of the gear I'd trashed or given away when I thought I'd never really miss them or want them, wrong, wished I'd never done it and regret it all the time . . . . anyhoo, ran into this little collector set at the swap meet last Sunday, it was serendipity, meant to be, it had my name written all over it, took them out of the box to have a proper look, felt like a nine year old all over again, totally bloody brilliant, four of Big Daddy's finest all in one package, stoked . . . . I can put off growing up for at least another week.
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