Good To Go

The new hub rocks. It is so smooth and red. Had to get DT spokes, which were supposed to be a dollar each ($48 total for SPOKES) but Santiam cut it in half for me. Why? I have no clue, they must love me. I also mounted the Chase tire and the fucker is skinnier than The Pirate. It seems to spin like muthafucka, though I haven't really got to ride it much. I can't look at it while I ride, or I trip out and think it's flat.

• R
• O
• A
• D
• T
• R
• I
• P

Yes, fools, we are bound for Tacoma, land of high crime and cramped industrial areas, in search of flatland mayhem. Sarge will be busting out while thinking about Shana (pronounced Sha [soft A]-na [soft A])...now, I know what you're thinking, "Shana who?" because Scuffinator NEVER talks about her and how cool she may or may not be. Nope, never heard him mention it at all...never. Man, this trip is gonna be so much fun.

~J

Looking At Life Through A Tire Hub

Well, the hub arrived today and Santiam will be lacing it up tomorrow. I am going to try to sell the Nankai hub, but I am tempted to keep it since it is fairly rare. I also got a skinny Chase tire, so the spin will be upped. I can't wait. I haven't been on my bike in almost two weeks, it's driving me crazy. Oh well, it's going to be a great trip. I can't wait.
~J

A Little of This, a Little of That

Right now, my car is dumping it's radiator on the parking lot outside my apartment. I really am so fucking sick of this situation. Overwhelmed? Yeah, a little. My daughter just came in and told me she loved me and kissed my cheek, which doesn't happen very often. Funny. Anyway, I got to meet the renowned hotty, Shanna. A very beautiful woman. Paul was absolutely gushing. I think it's cool to see him happy. He was flexing in the entrance to Fred Meyer, showing me where he wants to get "Property of Shanna" tattooed on his arm. My kids made a great impression by being complete animals. There is light at the end of the tunnel because Paul is going to see if he can borrow his mom's Durango. I knew that circumstance would conspire against me...
~J

Fuck

Well, it figures. I figure out a way to squeeze in some riding time before the contest and end up having to work on my fucking car. My bike looks so pretty right now and I can't ride it. This is bullshit. Sometimes I think everyone and everything is conspiring against my getting any time at all to ride. Fuck...
~J

Flatland used to be about balance. You'd do a trick in one spot and work on balance and timing wasn't a big part of riding. Back then you could ride almost anywhere, really. Then came rolling and scuffing and suddenly flatlanders were on a mission to find the perfect lot. And what would have the makings for a perfect lot? Long, flat, smooth? Blacktop, concrete or pavement? We tried alot of places and I have ridden some great spots, but I am partial to concrete, outdoor-lit and covered. Just about every flatlander is constantly on the lookout for a better lot, whether they're aware of it or not. The way many guys dream about running their hands over the breasts of a beautiful woman, we dream about running our tires over a beautiful lot. It's an affliction that most people cannot understand. I have spent 18 years playing the game while most people told me to grow up. I day dream of riding the perfect lot, covered in the blood of my vanquished foes, pulling trick after trick while cheerleaders chant my name and flash their legs. I ordered my hub, today. It is blood red. Anyone see a pattern here?
~J

One-armed Bandit

Look! Up there! What is it?! It's a NAVBAR! I love the navbar because you can hit the "Next Blog" button and check out all the things people write about. My favorite ones are the teenage chicks. Their worlds are so small. I also like the anime nerds, those make absolutely no sense. I keep posting comments on blogs, just to trip them out. Usually, it is completely irrelevant, but sometimes I try to be cutting. I found a blog that had a bunch of photos on it and so I posted a comment saying that I was the guy in the picture with the black hat on and that I was pissed that my image was shown on the internet. Yes, that button is like a slot handle to me. I pull the handle down and try my luck. It may be about the newest diet craze or it might the jackpot about cross-dressing mormons protesting Marilyn Manson. It's great and I would get rid of it-EVER.
~J

Fitting End to a Fitting Day

Well, I got it. My London Bikes Averbury 24t sprocket. It is, in a word, small. Very, very small. I cannot believe how much I paid for something this damned small. But it is gorgeous. I sat staring at it for a long time, just basking in it's beauty. Then I got really worked up and put on a condom, sprinkled popcorn all over it and got ready to make sweet, sweet love to it...But I realized I was moving too fast. Besides, the condom would most likely tear and I am not sure where this sprocket has been. On another note, I am pettitioning Congress to legalize the systematic erradication of rednecks. So, Maverick, ya best not be a-wearin' yer Wranglers 'round me, son.
~J

Trench Still Smoking

It's lame how people can get you down. Life is hard enough without judgemental, shallow drama-addicts making it worse. I believe what comes around, goes around and that this type of person perpetuates their own misery. I guess it sucks to be colateral damage, especially for children. I was hoping that the worst of the fight was over, but I see smoke in the hills. I have decided "so be it." After the things I have been through, I can take it all. I have people who love me for who I am, which is more than can be said for most of them. If I lose the war, I will find solace in my friends and family. If they lose, they have only their bitterness and self-pity. So I cannot lose. If you're an Enchant fan, you know this song:

You know the heart fuels the mind/Alleviates the grind/Gives reason to strive/Drawing strength from the sky/Knowing nothing is wrong/How sublime a thing it is/To suffer and be strong

Pretty much sums it up for me.

Don't Call Me Late For Dinner

Sarge called me Jerry, for that he must die. Let me tell you why I kill when called Jerry. When I was 16, I worked at a local chinease restaraunt as a dishwasher. On saturdays I would clean the bar, which had a mirror running it's entire length, My boss was named William and he spoke shitty english at best. He couldn't say Jeremy, so he called me Jerry, only he said it more like Je-whee. So he told me to pull everything out of the bar and clean it...Which I did for most of the time. Towards the end, I got lazy and didn't clean quite as thouroghly as I was told to. When I was done, Willy came in and lectured me on not cleaning right, showing me the exact places I had skipped. I had to stay another hour to finish up before I could go ride. I was baffled at how he knew exactly where I had skipped, until I was in his office one day and noticed that the tv was showing the bar as viewed from the mirror. He must have sat in there the entire time I was cleaning that bar and watched everything I did for three hours. That fuck. I quite soon after. To this day, when people call me Jerry, I get pissed. Just so you know, Sarge, I know names which you have told me specifically not to mention in public...something to keep in mind.
~J

Don't Call Me Jerry

Gonna ride this weekend. Yup, gonna ride my ass off. Gonna ride, gonna ride, gonna ride. Can't freaking wait to ride. It's gonna be great. As long as I can fix my axle before then... Cross your fingers. Oh, by the way, just call me Doc, because I love to play doctor.
~J

Nickname

It has recently been brought to my attention that I need a nickname. Sarge is a little sore that he has three and I have none. Well, here is your chance to serve me up a can o' nickname. Leave your ideas in the comments and we'll pick one...whenever. So far, i have...

• Top Cat
• Daddy
• Father
• Pigfarmer
• Boss Hogg

Feel free to call me whatever you feel appropriate.

~J

Joe's killer

I was looking at Joe's bike, tonight, and I realized that it's a hod rod of flatland machinery. Fuckin LOVE Joe's bike. On another note, Sarge is right now biting a trick from Darrell. Nobody is safe from his mechanized treachery.
~J

My Friend Meghatron

One of the most important people in my life is named Meghan. Meghan knows me pretty damned good. Since I first met her, she has struck something in me that I have never seen anywhere. When I have a problem, she is who I call because she always has an answer for me, even if I don't always take her advice. She knows why I sleep with women and why I don't. She knows why I act like a pig. She knows that riding is a huge part of who I am. She asked me what I would do if I met someone, how riding would fit in, but she put it this way, "What are you gonna do about riding if you meet someone?" Now...there is something interesting to note, here. She knows that there is a possible problem, and she sees it from the female point of view, which is cool. She knows that if a woman puts herself at odds with riding (as most women will do at some point) they are putting a strain on the relationship (though they tend not to understand what they are doing). I told her that riding keeps me sane, will benefit the relationship and benefit me...because it's who I am. "I dunno," she said.
"It either works or it doesn't, but riding is who I am," I told her. "Yeah," she said. Yeah...a brutha's gotta have priorities. Meghan rules.
~J

My week's ruined

It's 5:30 in the morning and I can't sleep, I can't swallow...it sucks. Guess I won't be riding today and that makes me very happy. My head feels like someone has it in a vise. I go from freezing with goosebumps to sweating hot. Yay!
~J

Visual Vise

http://www.eengoedidee.nl/videoz/flatland/circle_cow_6_practise_footage.mov Unreal footage of Vikki Gomez during practice at the recent Circle Cow contest in Europe. You have to sign up for this server, but it is worth it, since there are SO many flatland videos on it.
~J

Dizzy

I am SICK. Damnit, I hope I can ride saturday. I feel like shit.
~J

Paint Me Purple...PLEASE!

Gary and I had another 'unique' conversation, this time about blacks, namely Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice and Colon Powell. He was spouting the usual Larson-spoon-fed bullshit about how you can't say anything about blacks. He also said that blacks who have jobs like Powell, while those who do not work (and live in ghettos) hate him. I told him that I disagreed with that statement. I said that black who are wealthy republicans like him, while democrats might tend not to. I wanted to say that anyone who valued truth, honor and human life would not like Powell. The conversation continued until he started to tell me about his neighbor, who is black, and how "the guy is the nicest guy you could ever hope to meet." I sarcastically replied, "Amazing, are you sure he's black?" He backtracked. I then told him that I grew up in a largely black neighborhood, saw gangs and pimps at work. Suddenly the conversation changed. I'm not black, but since I wasn't in agreement with him, he lost all his steam. He talked about how when he was in the military, blacks who didn't talk like most blacks ("They spoke good english") were treated differently by other blacks, likewise those same blacks usually were promoted and further shunned by lower-ranking blacks. He seemed to think that blacks inherantly hate hardworking blacks. It was mind-blowing to me. I can easily see why there was so much termoil during the era when he was in Vietnam and earlier. He's such an ass, sometimes.
~J