When hanging out with Papa Kinevil, time stands still.
In the good way.
The truth is revealed. Despite widespread assumptions that I was a pod baby, the fact is that I have two parents who had sex at least twice, producing a baby me, and a baby my sister. Well, regardless of how hard I tried to alienate myself from them as a rebellious youth, they are still speaking with me. Not only that, but occasionally they like to spend time with me, so as I indicated upon my departure last week, my better half and I went North to meet up and eat up with Mike and Sue Kinevil in their mountain fortress, where Mike and I did a lot of walking and looking at bald eagles, which you could see here if you were Steve Austin;
But just so I don’t get too far ahead of myself, I would also like to mention that at some point during my non-flying around and drinking brandy/smoking cigar time, my plane seems to have gotten a face lift from the attractive brushed aluminum, to a facade so fruity it would make Charles Nelson Reilly hide his face in embarrassment;
Anyhoo, I am back to the land of the regular people who aren’t graced with ample sofa time, and five square meals a day, and as such I have to get down to business. The first order of which obviously is the arrival of my new shipment of Chuey caps;
Firstly I would like to say that the second I opened the box, I absconded with one for myself, and it is both highly comfortable, as well as staggeringly handsome. In my limited time engaging in testing of said cap, I have ridden my bicycle, eaten a bowl of black beans with rice and avocado, drank three beers and chatted with Jmac, all of which the cap handled with authority. I believe that if the cap can survive the rigors of my on personal testing, it should do the trick for the common man just fine.
Should you like to see what yourself what the hype is all about, I have both styles in the store currently and can be found right here, as well as over here.
I would also like to say that my hat model Khloie is available for both bachelor parties and happy ending massages.
Of course in my time away, I received an assortment of totally irrelevant correspondences which I should probably begin to dole out here.
In news of educational institutions doing stupid things, DJ XRay got in touch with a sad bit of information for anyone who has ever been touched by the greatness that was KUSF;
I volunteer at a non-profit radio in San Francisco called KUSF. We’ve been around since 1977 playing all sorts of unholy shitty music and probably some good stuff.
Well, yesterday the 18th of January, the nice folks who run the University thought it would be a pretty good idea to sell the station self-sustained station which is run independently by the community for 3.75 million and turn the studios, offices and library into dorms so kids who can fork up that much money for on-campus housing can sleep easily where me and my buddies used to play the awful shit that only the dead who were buried all points north, east, south, and west from the campus would wanna listen to. Not only is this a trespass against satan but its pissed off a lot of people in the community.
Here’s a link to a local news story.
Yesterday was the day we leaned on each other shoulders and cried, today is the day we reach out to the media and unveil the fucking monster that is the greed of the Catholic University known as USF. I’m about to take off to a meeting with Father Privett, the prez of this bullshit University, and while i wont be able to take a swing at him, i hope i can do a lot of damage to his institution and maybe hurt his beloved profits.
I understand that the public meeting which was held regarding this transaction was jam packed to the gills and had back up in the streets numbering in the hundreds. I can only hope that the school will rethink this decision and allow those behind the knobs to continue to thumb their noses at corporate commercial radio. It is important to remember that when independently operated everything goes away, we are left only with a decision between what they want us to have and what they want us to have, which really is no decision at all.
George from The Dead Deer Bike Gang got in touch with me as I was on my way away with a simple heads up about the whatevers;
“Hey friend – put me down for one of them caps with the flaps. Anyway, I went for a lovely ride a couple weeks ago in Fort Collins;
Winter gave us a little reprieve and came out with sunshine and highs in the 40’s making for a lovely afternoon excursion wih equal parts dirt and road. And yeah that’s fresh black tape – I wasn’t sure about the labor day rule.
Say what you will about them, but The Dead Deer Bike Gang likes them some adventures, no matter what the weather, and will usually conclude it with profanity and pork.
Just to keep the good times rolling along here, ace photographer Embry Rucker sent along a photo of some handsome socks that appears to have been treated with an application similar to that of being carried in one’s wallet and then being pushed into a swimming pool;
In closing, I have a saga from Mickey at The Spooky Bicycle Company that I promised I wouldn’t let too much moss grow upon, so without further hesitation, here you go;
Can you gimme a plug sometime early this week? We are now finally start building custom bikes w/ Mr. FTW and I need/NEED to put some deposits on the books so that I can upgrade from canned tuna to sashimi-grade. We’re doing steel and aluminum- and we are turning ’em out dang quick;
Fucking 29’s even! Singlespeeds even! I’ve got a MAX tubeset in stock that is begging to be turned into a SS cx machine, all sorts of cool shit like that…
We’ll be trying to raise intense mayhem at NAHBS and I am very inclined to get some sort of riot/party going in Austin for fun and profit. Let’s have a fucking party bro, etc. The lame new UCI approval rules need some direct action of the pointless rock and drunkeness foot-down derby kind. That’s what I think.
I’m also playing truck driver for the MA bike building contingent wherein I’m renting a big Penske truck and making the haul up and won to the Lonesome Haul To The Lonestar State.
This sir, this is CONTENT.
Are you heading down that way?
Imma gonna put up a fresh blogpost about this custom bike shit and whatnot as soon as I can get drunk enough to stay focused. Conversions shall be remunerated handsomely. I’ll make a good spiel for ya and provide some pretty images.
I’m writing this email now so I can’t candy-ass out of it, like I do with getting up in the morning to hike my broke ass to the top of snowy things to slide down…
Here is a picture of some creepy shit from the Yankee Candle flagship store;
First I would like to say that those statues are begging for some photoshop work, and as soon as the dust clears around here, I will attend to that. Secondly, it is with slight regret that I say I will not be attending this year’s handbuilt dog and pony show due to a selection of assorted scheduling conflicts, but mostly just general apathy. I trust that Mickey, as well as others in attendance will provide me with an array of perspectives mirroring my own, that I will post here after the circus has left town.
Lastly, and in regard to the thought of Mickey driving across the desolation that is Texas, if any of my previous experiences doing such are any indication, it is an activity where time truly does stand still.
In the bad way.