Until we meet again.
Not that youre interested, but you and I are going to be apart for a little while.
Something about a warrant in Tijuana for some issues that occurred at Juanita's world famous donkey show a few years ago.
I kid. The fact of the matter is, there is an avalanche of everything Swobo that is about to come crashing down upon my head, and in the midst of that, Im leaving town for a piece to go eat some stuffing with Mike and Sue Kinevil.
It may be a point of slight interest, but for the first time in all of my years, I now have an office. Not the Fisher Price 'My First Office" that youd expect, but rather a real work space with a computer AND a phone, that both actually plug into the wall.
Not that I know how to use ether of them...
Today I decorated a touch-
Yeah, thats right- clown shoes, TWO coozies, hot sauce, and a little basketball. Im ready to take the corporate world by storm.
Anyway, soon enough, these shelves will be filled to the brim with the good stuff-
It looks like Ive got my work cut out for me.
And now, an email from RK;
"Stevil,
You may or may not know of the Chamois Army Fort…but you should know of their CX high jinx at the Boulder World Cup:
That’s my son with the boombox.
RK"
If one day I should have a son, and then one day that son should run in a kilt, face paint and a boom box atop his shoulder at a cross race, I will know Ive done my job as a father.
Craig sent in this shot they took of a prized ground score while coming home from a ride. Blessed be thy mountain bike.
Then in my mail box theres an email from 'Chris at Chris King'.
I thought, 'what in all that is good is Chris King emailing me for?'
"How's that for a lead in? Got a little excited, eh? Well, it's not the one you'd want to hear from, it's me, Chris DiStefano. So you like pictures of mustaches. Here you go:
"And you like $6.66 receipts? Well, Ive got something you need to see. Send me your address and I'll mail you a few treats.
Over and out,
CD"
Ohhhhh. Its the other Chris. Yeah, its pretty cool to get an email from that guy too.
Plus, I understand Chris King still prefers carrier pigeons to the internet anyway.
It would seem as though our favorite superhero/dumb jock Jordi not only is able to race the hell out of a bike, but hes got his modeling career right on track as well.
Can anybody say 'Blue Steel'?
Youre a tiger in the grass, Jordi. A sexy tiger.
And now Ill offer up some mishmash mumbojumbo as only the Stomparillaz could provide.
"hiyOXTRA, slappy here gettin on and on with the stomparillaz
apolyptico plan.. Anyway Aspen Guy singer from the spin doctors needs
to get his game face on; and the memo reads, the prefered nomeclature
for flat bar cross bikes is 'gay', not a word i'm that fond of, but
then again it's not as bad as the one for mustache bar.. aanyway he
ought to know that it is hurtful and not nice to miss the off the hook
'cross race we had in carbondale last weekend, but then again, my
aversion to aspen direct marketing is a lil' like the clap.. Aaanyway
STomparillaz Racin' is preparing for a.) the apocalypse b.) ninjas
vampire drones on carbon fiber c.) and stuff. The fleet is
substantial as usual but the 69'r xtra cycle race rigs are a little
silly scary.. so anyway word it up word it out, check stmpz blog pix
--
We will not not stomp"
stomparillaz
"Gay".
Loudass expounds on what he actually means when he refers to me as such;
I meant "gay" in an innocuous 19th Century way, like a dude with a mustache riding a mechacial cycle to impress fine ass late 19th Century woman folk.."
Thanks Loudass. I get it now...
Of the time spent with Captain Morgan and Denzel, Im starting to pick up on the nuances of their individual personalities. When I came home today, Denzel was making faces at me. Hes definitely the clown of the two.
Ok, friends. The sun is setting and I have a burning desire to get cracking on some other stuff now so as to get involved with some other stuff after that.
You all know how we feel about Thanksgiving, right?
Live it up, and tell somebody you love, that you love them. Thank your legs for taking you cool places, thank the chair for not breaking when you sit on it, thank the grocery store for having more food than you could eat in a year, thank the elastic in your underpants for doing its job..
You know, go crazy.
If I hadnt mentioned it lately, were thankful for you all too.
xoS
Comments
The CD looks just like that English character on the Simpsons... I don't remember his name, but I'm sure someone out there does. Tim I don't think he is gay per-say, but the guys at the office don't stop talking about him...
I think there is a rainbow triangle carved in one of the marketing desks though...
Posted by: Daniel | November 18, 2007 04:55 AM
CD is a homo... but he's one of my favorite homos in the entire world. There are precious few people I enjoy getting an email or phone message from and jump to reply... he/ it is one of them... but don't tell him/ it.
For a minute, I really thought you were going to be coming down my way, due to the Mexican problemos... but then you had to go and ruin the dream.
Well, anyway, hurry up and come down south.
Posted by: Tim Jackson | November 17, 2007 02:51 PM
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row
Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row
Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row
Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
Posted by: mullah bin makdag | November 17, 2007 05:45 AM
Your desk...tapatio...yum.
Posted by: Ashley | November 17, 2007 05:38 AM
Craigger, ah yes the photo of plastic Jesus placed delicately atop my steed as we finished another lovely Sunday riding ditch to horsetail in the groseventre mountains of Jacksome pole, Wyoming. A photo taken before both of us got hitched (to our wives, thanks Melanie's mom for wondering..). Shortly thereafter, we both broke camp and moved away from daily bike rides, long backcountry ski laps on Maverick in the Grandest of Parks with our pal Mr. Tony.
And Chris Destefano, I see you are enjoying your fun with facial hair experiment immensely.
Ride on,
-DV
Posted by: king buzzo rememberd that plastic jesus | November 17, 2007 05:18 AM
Been a whole lot easier since the bitch left town
Been a whole lot happier without her face around
Nobody upstairs gonna stomp and shout
Nobody at the back door gonna throw my laundry out
She hold the shotgun while you dote-se-doe
She want one man made of Hercules and Cyrano
Been a whole lot easier since the bitch is gone
Little Miss, Little Miss Can't Be Wrong
CHORUS
Little Miss, Little Miss Little Miss Can't Be Wrong
Ain't no body gonna bow no more when you sound your gong
Little Miss, Little Miss Little Miss Can't Be Wrong
Whatcha go'n do to get into another one of these here
rock 'n' roll songs?
Other people's thoughts they ain't your hand-me-downs
Would it be so bad to simply turn around
You cook so well, all nice and French
You do your brain surgery too, with a monkey wrench
CHORUS
I hope them cigarettes are gonna make you cough
Hope you hear this song and it pissed you off
I take that back: hope you're doing fine
And if I had a dollar, I might give you ninety-nine
wow- I feel I am being attacked for my use of a flat bar on my bike, technically its a riser bar from a mtn bike, but the whole damn thing cost $150. And damnit I live in El Jebel, not cool enough for bonedale or Aspen, shit. plus I tried to find out about the bonedale cx, but to no avail- and lucky me I pop in for breakfast on the way to Denver and happen to get food at the race meeting spot an hour before it takes off. Oh, we shall meet one day in the near future and there will be a wager, bets will be made. I don't know where I am going with this, so I'll stop
Posted by: georgeville | November 17, 2007 04:08 AM