Translation: Romeo Oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Bro. Dave had to be brewing at 0: dark thirty. So I figured I’d brave the cold and ride down to his shop. A coffeehouse is damn nice destation when your going on a dark, damp, cold ride. Hung out and bull shited with Viking most of the morning. When he got off work we took a ride over to see Wolf and wish him the merriest of seasons. He threatened to get a restraining order if we ever came back. Love ya’ Wolf, you’re a good Brother. Everybody said their best Merry F’ing Christmas and goes their separate way to take care of last minute details.
So I get home X-Mas Eve and there’s not really anything to do. The daughter is gone to a party, just the wife and I left to fend for ourselves. What to do what to do. A quick trip outside to abide is some local agriculture. Then we just sat in the semi-dark garage, the kitchen light glowing through the door. I put on Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant” and we sat there staring at the bikes and listening to 40 year old tunes. And it was a damn fine time. It also made me think. The economy is in the toilet; I’ve got no idea how secure my job is and all that other negative crap. But then all that faded and the positive took over. I realized I’ve got some great people in my life.
Even with all the break-ups going on it’s still possible to be in love after 20 years. I wouldn’t trade my wife for anything. Becky and Dave help keep me sane, although I might trade Dave for a nice Panhead, but that’s a whole different story. All the folks out there in Blogersville, the ones I’ve met, Ann, mq01, Big D, Arizona Harley Dude, Biker Chickz, you guys hold a special place in my life. All of you I haven’t met, yet, you help me keep things in perspective. There’s a lot of wisdom floating around out there. Just wanted to let all of you know that I appreciate you being part of my life. You help restore my faith in humankind.
Now jump on your bike and terrorize the neighborhood! We wouldn’t want the “public” to get the idea that we’re nice people.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
But then the voices in my head started talking and no matter how much kool-aid I drank they wouldn’t shut up. And since Political Correctness isn’t in my vocabulary, I couldn’t resist taking a jab at some of my favorite people. Love them or hate them, you have to admire them for being consistent. Consistently not listing to what the people that pay their salaries say.
T’was the night before Health Care and all through the House,
Nancy was whoring like a queer little mouse.
The Senate was snug in their warm office beds,
While visions of botox danced in their heads.
Her stockings were hung from her shoulder with care,
In hopes that a new vote would be in her rear.
She wandered the Halls looking for votes,
She found one outside taking a toke.
She gagged and she swallowed she spit and she swished,
She now had the vote right there in her fist.
The deal is now done she proclaimed with a grin,
As the last vote she needed ran down her chin.
***Any similarities to any persons living or dead are purely accidental***
Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Fight. Ho Ho Ho!
Back on the government “watch list” I go.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Those things were on every other car a while back. Now I don’t see any. I’ve concluded that there are only two reasons for this. Reason 1: Everyone that voted for (choke) obama participated in the cash for clunkers and now has a new car. But I don’t think auto sales are up that much, so that’s probably not the real reason. Reason 2: (The more likely one) Everyone that voted for (just threw up in my mouth) obama is so damn embarrassed to have anyone know it that they tore the stupid thing off. How’s that hope and change working for you now?
Friday, December 4, 2009
The audio portion was broadcast about a month ago on radio station WSHIT “the brown spot on your dial”. It was only aired once, and then the station was mysteriously flushed away. Gone, right down the drain. Never to be seen again. But I managed to get not only the audio but also the video. So this is a world premier of the interview they didn’t want you to see.
***Disclaimer*** This is a parody, political satire, you know, part of my 1st Amendment Rights. But just incase someone doesn’t agree with the U.S. Constitution I have a solution. Go to the nearest U.S. border crossing, cross the border and burn your passport. Bye Bye.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Yes, I know this is late. I started it on July 11th. But hey, I just found a math test from the 8th grade I never finished. I smell a GED in my future!
OK. So you all know we took a trip to AZ. Why, I don’t know. Crap, after two hundred miles, my wife decides her hinny hurts and we have to call her mommy to pick her up. Maybe I should have put the rear seat on? The fender didn’t look that hard. Then, after nineteen hours on the road I get to sleep on a plywood bed with things crawling on me. I think there are critters that live in that mountain air, I saw it in a movie once it must be true. The next morning I’m sitting outside enjoying a cup of rancid coffee and a non-filter, just sitting there, minding my own damn business, when these people in leather start shouting my name and start trying to hug me. Boy, I’ll tell ya’, those people in AZ are pretty darn friendly. Don’t they know that if you do that in Alabama you’re considered married! They said their names were Ann, Big D and Arizona Harley Dude. I asked for ID but nobody had one. Likely story. I still think they were spies from the California Air Resource Board sent to Arizona to try and screw up that State also.
The next thing I know I’m being dragged into some two hundred year old building they said was a restaurant. I think the waitress built the place, but she had a mind like a steel trap. She took everyone’s order without a notepad and got everything perfect. Now I’m being forced to eat some strange redneck food while listening to a discussion about the proper use of the word penis. Hell, maybe I did get married that morning. I know I heard Dueling Banjos playing on the eight-track.
Shortly after that I found myself with a whole bunch of those leather-clad types on bikes, riding from one end of town and back again. It was like some sort of circus freak-show. I could see the towns-folks pointing and warning their children. You could hear them: “See that one with the beard and tattoos? Stay away from him! He’s trouble”. The sign on the hardware store said there was a “this weekend only” sale on “pitchforks”. I wonder why. I kept a close eye on them.
After all the dirty looks from the locals I spent the afternoon following around a 2-speed Sporty. The two speeds were 0 and friggen 90. Nothing in between. Anybody who doubts that a Sporty packing two-up can’t leave a Big Twin in the dust; well shit happens. After a day of riding in the cold, rain, heat and everything in-between, we wound up at a local shop for some pretty darn good road-kill to put in our bellies. Possum, maybe beaver or squirrel. Don’t matter, it was good.
Later on we went to one of those places folks go to and play grab-ass. They have beer, liquor and other mind altering stuff. You best keep an eye on you ass if you go to one of these establishments, someone might grab it and not give it back. But hey, if you think your ass is too big and you want to lose some, sign up for the frequent ass-grabber plan. After a few hours of grab-ass watching and more local animal abuse, it was back to my plywood Sorta Perfect Sleeper.
The next morning was some leftover possum and a trip from Williams to Phoenix for a overnight before heading back to CA. It was pretty uneventful except that you ride through some of the most spectacular scenery on earth. When we got close to Phoenix and traffic was starting to back-up Ann warned us that we “could not” split lanes in AZ. So being good law-abiding citizens we respected the law and “did not” split lanes. We rode down the shoulder to our exit.
Eventually we found our way to Big D’s garage. Full of bike, parts and tools. I felt right at home. The fact that Ann, Big D, AHD, the kids and the folks from B.A.C.A. that stopped by were all down-home genuine folks didn’t hurt either. Some of the best people you would ever want to meet if you ever get over that way. The rest of the nights activities are a little fuzzy, so rather than make stuff up I’ll leave it out. I will say this: “Big D, if you ever run for public office I’ll vote for you”. Even though you probably wouldn’t win because most people won’t accept the truth.
The next days ride back to CA sucked (damn helmet law!). Don’t get me wrong. It was a good ride with great friends, B.B. and Dave, but you’re ridding away from something you don’t want to end. While the saying “ There’s always next year” is true, it took me so long to get of my ass and finish writing this that “next year” is only a few months away.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
"The following is a KSCO commentary. Here is Kay Zwerling: OK. This has been floating around for awhile. Sounds like life will not be much fun in the future. Headlines from the year 2029: Ozone created by electric cars are now killing millions in the seventh largest country in the world, Mexifornia, formerly known as California. White minority are still trying to have English recognized as Mexifornia’s third language. Spotted owl plague threatens northwestern United States crops and livestock. Baby conceived naturally, scientists are stumped. Couple petitions court to reinstate heterosexual marriage. Last remaining fundamentalist Muslim dies in the American territory of the Middle East (formerly known as Iran, Afghanistan, Syria, and Lebanon). Iraq still closed off. Scientist estimate it will take at least ten more years before radioactivity decreases to safe levels. France pleads for global help after being taken over by Jamaica. Castro finally dies at age 112; Cuban cigars can now be imported legally, but President Chelsea Clinton has banned all smoking. George Z. Bush says he will run for President in 2036. Postal Service raises price of first class stamp to $17.89 and reduces mail delivery to Wednesdays only. 85-year, $75.8 billion study: The result is that diet and exercise is the key to weight loss. Average weight of Americans drops to 250 pounds. Massachusetts executes last remaining conservative. Supreme Court rules punishment of criminals violates their civil rights. Average height of NBA players is now 9’7”. New federal law requires that all nail clippers, screwdrivers, fly swatters, and rolled up newspapers must be registered by January 2036. And, Congress authorizes direct deposit of formerly illegal political contributions to campaign accounts. Capitol Hill intern indicted for refusing to have sex with a Congressman. IRS sets lowest tax rate at 75%. Florida voters still having trouble with voting machines. And, there you are. These are the headlines in the year 2029".
Now that you know what the future holds have a Happy Thanksgiving.
I went on a short ride before going out to dinner with the In-laws, who are great people, but still remember guys, do what your wife tells you. It seems that Belle was feeling a little left out at not being invited to dinner so she acquired her own Thanksgiving feast.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I start heading up the hill and for some reason the “ICY” sign at the bottom catches my eye. Could it be more of those voices in your head that Arizona Harley Dude hears? After all, 40 degrees in the valley, rain last night, several thousand feet up the hill might be different. Never noticed that icy sign before.
I had two reasons for taking that ride: 1) Because I’m stupid and like to freeze my ass off. 2) If you get up there before the Sun is up you can get above the clouds that blanket the valley this time of year. Just about at the top of the Grade I run into an old friend I remember from the East Coast: “Black Ice”. I didn’t like the SOB then, and I like him even less now. Going into a left curve the ass-end started to fishtail like a baby seal that just saw Jaws. Crap, this thing’s going down! Or option number two: Screw trying to make the turn and go straight into the dirt pullout. The drop-off on the other side can’t be more than a few hundred feet. Throttle up, pull the front-end up straight, hit the dirt and stopped the wayward bike, upright. Hey, this is a good place to get a picture with the clouds over the valley!
Judging by the fresh skid marks in the dirt, I’d say that a small car hit that ice just a few minutes before I did. If they had hung around for awhile bet I could’ve got them to take a picture of me next to the bike with crap running down my leg.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
So I asked what they wanted. They went over to the corner and got in a little cat football huddle. They came back and said: Look bozo, if you want some really good footage get your camera and follow us around for awhile. We’ll show ya how to have fun. I said ok I’ll bite, lets go. By the time I got my camera they were all sleeping and I had to wake them up. Maybe I’ll wake up soon. I think I’m dreaming.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
He said this story, which the local papers did not carry, might offend some people. It seems that yesterday, 11-11-2009; there was an event at the Santa Cruz Veterans Hall. Someone in the neighborhood thought it was too loud and called the local noise patrol. This was about 6:00 PM. Far from the 10:00 PM kick in for the noise ordinance. What crime were they committing? They were playing “God Bless America” and some son of a b*tch was offended. The worst part is that the local Police actually went on the call and told them to turn it down. Big ass damn crime. Damn America loving bastards. Not in Santa Cruz, we’ll show you!
To the Santa Cruz Police Officer that went on that call: You’re a a-hole! You should resign immediately and get the hell out of The United States Of America. You don’t deserve the freedom those Veterans gave you!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
“A Veteran is someone who at one point in their life wrote a blank check made payable to the United States of America for the amount of up to and including their life”.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Finally got tired of looking at those pitted ass forks on my bike. I wish the factory would stop putting clear coat on them, but it looks good in the showroom. Looks like crap after a few miles but that’s life. So here’s my secret for getting that junk off. The stuff was called Goose’s Magic Mix metal prep cleaner. Now it’s called Magic Mix. Google it or find it at most truck stops. Make sure it has the bunny wabbit on the bottle. By itself it won’t do a damn thing to clear coat, as most chemicals you can buy won’t. Clear coat is some tough stuff.
So the trick? Green scotch brite pads. It has some sort of chemical reaction with a scotch brite pad. Put a few drops on the pad – you can smell the acid. I tried other brands of pads, doesn’t work. What kind of acid is it? Hell, I don’t know. But it gets rid of clear coat, that’s all I care about. You can wear rubber gloves if you want to, but hey if you can kill two birds with one stone and get rid of those pesky fingerprints that keep getting you in trouble and have purdy forks at the same time, why not.
I spent about five hours to do both forks. You still have to use a little elbow grease. The more screwed up the clear coat is, the easier it comes off. Then wipe it down with a wet rag and polish with your favorite metal polish.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
And that brings up the “good news” that this country is not headed toward Socialism. We’re way the hell past that. Can you say Totalitarianism? When you have nuts like Ahmadinejad and Kadafi falling in love with a U.S. President that should scare the hell out of you. They should be scared shitless and hate his guts. Something’s wrong. And those little kids singing the “obama song”. What’s next? Little red obama books? Chairman Mao would be proud. And WTF is up with them saying they aren’t going to post that health care scam on the Internet until after the vote? Who the f#ck do they think they are? Oh that’s right, they’re the Lords and Masters. We are but the humble servants. The point is that we all need to start bitching very very loud and very very often. If we don’t, then we deserve what we get. Control of every aspect of our lives. Right down to how many pisses you can take each day.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
We sat in the campfire and watched as the monkey pulled the feathers from the octopus. The flames licked at the blinding night sky as if the sun were reaching up to burn the depths of the ocean. The sound was eerie; much like the laugh of a centipede sliding slowly to the top of a martini glass. The wheels rolled through the hot frozen tundra like a fart through a sandstorm. Time-travel would soon be lost. Past and present were now one. How long would it take to take no action? How far down the road less traveled must one go to arrive? Would you arrive? Do fish-sticks come from frozen lakes? The sudden deafen sound of silence was an indication that the world had imploded; the sun would not rise tonight. The smell of moldy gasoline filled the coffin. The cook would be happy.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The thing I like is the engine in the middle instead of the rear like most builds. All of the British parts from the 60’s and 70’s are pretty cool also.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Luke thought back to what many considered the last straw. What many said was the final act of a corporate government destine to self-destruct. After the 2016 election, the foreign interest saw what was happening. They wanted assurances their investments were safe. They called in their markers. China and Japan wanted their loans to the U.S.S.A. paid, in full. Of course the money only existed in the backroom of some Wall Street bank on a fake ledger. The loans could not be repaid. After several threats, on both sides, and many rounds of “peace” talks, the decision was made to repay the loans with land grants. DC, and a one hundred mile radius around it were exempt. The rest of the U.S.S.A. was “Tax Granted” to pay the foreign debt. The plan was for all properties outside the “exempt zone” to be assessed a “foreign debt tax”. Soon, mansions and military style compounds were being built inside the “zone”. The government was seizing private land and moving all politicians and their wealthiest supporters into the exempt zone. This was more than people could take. Luke remembered what his brother had once said; “The seeds of revolution are sown in the fertile soils of discontent”.
He looked at Ben and Tom as they watched the flares; their faces void of expressions, hardened by years of staying one-step ahead of the corrupt, bloodthirsty U.S.S.A. government hit squads. This was not the America his ancestors had died for. Or would it be, at the cost of his own life, the America he would leave his heirs. The War on Tyranny had taken many lives, including that of his nephew’s father. Luke’s commitment to honor his brother was second only to protecting his nephew’s, or insuring that they died with the honor of a warrior as their father had.
The crackle of the antique walkie-talkie snapped Luke back to reality. It was Taz. “Go Taz, what’s up?” Luke asked. “Look at your watch numb-nut” Taz shot back. “We’re going to fire this thing in fifteen minutes. Think you might want to get you and those boys the hell outta there?”
Ben and Tom heard the radio. All three scrambled up the riverbank and fired up the old Harleys. The short half-mile ride back to the power station was the best ride any of them could remember – it had a purpose. Taz and Eddie were waiting at the Western Whitehouse with the “button”. They were far enough behind the EMP to be safe. They wanted to be outside for the best view. Besides, if the EMP had the wrong affect on the nuclear reactor under the Supreme Court… Well at this distance they would never know.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
There’s still a lot of small stuff to finish and I’m sure I’ll change some things, but it’s back in one piece and runs pretty darn good.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
There’s a rookie mistake in the picture. The first one who spots it gets to call me a dumb ass. The second one that sees it can come fix it for me.
I forgot to put the shifter shaft in. Goes in from the inside of the inner primary, “before” you mount the damn thing!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
A nice little electronic ignition unit could replace this mess and possibly be a little smoother idling, but I like messing with stuff. Besides, if some nut-case ever hits us with a electro magnetic pulse bomb, I’ll still be running. Any engine with a computer? Tits up.
All the basic stuff looks good so more checking. I take the point plate out and look at the timing advance assembly. Clean all the crud off it and look closer. If you look at where the spring loops on the pin you’ll see the mount holes on the flyweights are wallowed out, bad. The holes on the back for the stop pins are just as bad. The flyweights were coming out so far they were rubbing on the cam cover. The engine timing was jumping all over the place. A few more miles, I’m sure it would have quit running. I need to have a talk with my mechanic, that dude is slacking.Why I don’t use Harley dealers? I called the local dealer. Asked the parts specialist if they had any flyweights and springs for an old XLH. He came back on the phone a few minutes later and said he looked in the book and couldn’t find any weights on the flywheel. WTF is this guy doing at a parts counter? Good-bye dumbshit. I went to the local independent bike shop and asked for flyweights. He said he didn’t have them, but he had a Accel Advance Unit, (weights, springs, mount plate, point cam, bolts, etc…). Great, I’ll take it! Point is, the guy knew what the hell I was looking for, and about $30 less than the dealer. Here’s the old one on the left and the new one on the right. Dave stopped by to see what’s up, so there was only one thing left to do. Go for a ride! Went out for a quick 10-mile or so ride and no problems. The old Sporty has new life.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Front cylinder dry 125 psi
Front cylinder wet 125 psi
Rear cylinder dry 170 psi
Rear cylinder wet 170 psi
So, what is the logical place to look for the problem?
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
This is a dumb, stupid video thingy. But I do'ed it anyway. The singer is my cat on lots of catnip. By the time this hits the airwaves we’ll be headed to Arizona for a hook-up with Ann, Big D and AZ Harley Dude. Might even get some pictures, don’t know. Bye.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
1): Santa Cruz County is so lleft; it’s spelled with two l’s. I’m surprised they allow American Flags in public.
2): Me, being 50 years young, was the youngest Vet there. Where the hell are all the Vet’s from Lebanon, Grenada, Panama, The Gulf War, Iraq and Afghanistan? I know you guys are out there. Start going to these small events. Get out in the public, don’t fade away, again.
There were about fifty people there. About fifteen of them were Veterans. Two bikes in the whole parking lot, my neighbors and mine. That’s a damn shame. Somehow I keep winding up on mailing list for these types of events. I know it probably labels me as an “American Sympathizer” and I don’t care.