Sunday, December 6, 2009

Lots of people were invited over so we could make them puke in our front yard and hence kill those gophers

Tonight, today, this morning, some time (it's beer o'clock somewhere) there will be people arriving at our house for a blind drunk blind whiskey taste test.  The goal of this event is twofold:

1.  Community.  This age old concept is missing from most of our modern world.  With the advent of suburbia, television, iphones, chevy suburbans, ford fiestas and modern lawn care paraphenelia, community has dissapeared.  Think about you know your neighbors?  Maybe you do, but don't like them.  Maybe you only see them in passing often enough to make harsh and cruel judgements about their choice of hairstyle, commuting vehicle, mistress, and so on.  Maybe your only contact was when you shot their cat with a bbgun because you hate cats but love feeling like you are right.  

This event tonight is intended to bring peers together within a small community and get them all blind drunk.  Perhaps social connections will be made that will benefit everyone further on down the trail.  Maybe friends will be generated.  Maybe someone will make some babies, or just boink.  Lot's of things can occur.  That was a generalized statement.

2.  Whiskey tasting.
Without a developed pallete one will never know how to determine what food is good and what food is bad.  This can lead to the prevalence of fast food consumption, overuse and misuse of MSG, corporate farms and Monsanto taking over all the food production.  Think about extra/more symmetry.  Yeah, so develoliplop a pallete, less those damned rich whities take over the universe.  Drink a bottle of whiskey and smash the emtpy vessel over their over-insured heads.  I mean, do what you gotta do, just don't rape any kids!

Their seems these days to be an overabundance of consumerism.  This is why small batch whiskeys are better that larger, more corporate whiskeys.  

There is this word, CHUD, which canadians use to denote a half white, half indian hybrid.

I would like to end this with a quote that wraps these shananigans up nicely...

              "The road to heaven is paved with meat.  The road to meat is not paved at all."


If you don't know how to read and would like to take in all this magical information, have your closest literate friend email us and we will arrange for an audio copy.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Nice lack of authoratative zeal

I curse desire. Whether you curse being faster, a newer bike, more time to ride your chosen bike, Or even your own lack/loss/hope that is no longer/ever will be real. Why do people (I/you/us People) not find solace with ourselves, in this day, in our lives. Where do our covetous feelings come from, from feeling like we deserve more then that which we have, a land where ther is no horizon, no infinite, no end, a land utterly unlike the single one we inhabit. Have you ever thought of what happens af infinity? There could never be such because one could never return from an infinate distance.
I love bikes and the freedom they give human form but I hate the way industry takes everything and preverts it into something digestable, quantifiable, compareable. I dare you to sell your love. You can have both, just never believe those words that someone speaks with eyes filled with dollar signs, or for that fact a hug. A fact is only qualifiable if it is self described. It's not hat I don't trust that others think but there is a disconnect between mouth and ear, ear and brain, brain and eye. This is not the problem, the problem is not believing in this disconnect.
There are so many times when I wish I could take everyone I love and enclose them in my chest so that there is no loss. But then I see the value in a thing and it shatters. So I don't know and it queries infinately.
Go ride a bike and stop thinking for a few hours and annilliate a few thoughts.