Woke up to a call from Pete. I’m late for a swap meet. Luckily I’m only 2 miles from the fairgrounds. Made a big cup of coffee and hustled my ass on over. At 8am, the swap was in full swing. Ran around solo for an hour. Scored a weird fire bell and an old oil tank. Caught up with Pete and walked the swap for another hour or two. Pete was the big winner for the day. Dig this old door.
Ran back home to knock out some yard work and frame a window. Then I was back out to Selby cause I struck a deal with Pete on an old shop truck. 1970 F100. She’s a rust bucket but she’s got charm. Came back and drove around the neighborhood all evening with my son. Finished the night with some good old Walking Dead. I love that show. Life is good.
Just watched this flick last night. Been waiting for a while to see if it caught on but its still somewhat flying under the “cool” radar which means its still worth watching. Check it out. I think it’s “on demand” right now if you got cable. Otherwise, climb a cable box and stick a turkey carving fork into the comcast box and see if that works.
“Life is like a rainy day. You can either run for cover, or you can choose to get wet.”
That’s right. You can all bare witness to yet another young mans introduction into life on two wheels. Congrats J. That is one sweet little machine you got there. You rule dude.
That’s right. We got some business and pints to tend to out in Bean town. Packin our bags and hoppin’ a plane to spread the midwest moto love. If there’s one thing I can say for sure after living the for so many years it’s this; Boston is such a great place to visit but I wouldnt want to live there. Truth be told, Boz-stone is the home of the biggest bunch of cop pricks I’ve ever encountered. I got stories of being followed, spit on, and stepped on. I got ticketed more times in one year than I’ve ever received in my entire life!
All that said – Take it from a big stinkin’ Irish f*ck like myself. Boston IS the greatest place on earth to get bombed. Any of you Boston readers want to sell me some parts, shoot me an email and we’ll try to connect.
Roadside somewhere between Lake Superior and Finland to stretch our legs, snap photos and take a leak. Pictures just don’t seem to capture it. You’re miles from nowhere with days to go. Glancing over your shoulder at the old miner towns. The dance hall windows have all been broken and the only sign of life is the glowing neon “Schmidt’s” hanging from a lamp post. Another sleepy town swallowed up by time.
Another addition to the chopper blog.
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October 16, 2011 7:24 pm | 
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