The Mikuni show 07.

Yes, yes yes...
I should be doing other things today.
Jacket and helmet taunt me no longer!
I went to the Mikuni calender show down in Long Beach CA today.
The temp was nice for July, but finding my way around that city was a bit of a ball ache.
Cops were out in force pulling people all over. The city had those electronic signs all over flashing the warning that if you had an illegal pipe on your bike you would be cited!
We waited in traffic for nearly half an hour. That part was not too bad as I could see one of the stages in the show grounds that had a bunch of strippers dancing like crack addicted epileptic whores! It was funny.
Realized how old even the new Harleys look, and how the only cool Harley's are sportsters done up as racer/rods!
After the show we took off up PCH and wound up cruising Sunset back home, and passed a few bikers we had passed when we left Long Beach.
All in all it was a nice day, Something I have been hurting to have for a while now.

Old Harley's.

Old Harley's never die...Er well they really do. But it takes 5000 miles on the clock and twenty years sitting in the same spot uncovered.

Fair warning.

Three events in my recent past have had a huge impact on me.

The first was the birth of my son.
becoming a father has been the most rewarding thing I have done.
It could all just be biological, chemicals in the brain to make dad's feel good around their children. I really don't care.
The point is that my little man is the most important person in my life.

The second was being diagnosed with skin cancer.
Yes it was preventable, and no, I did not wear a hat every single time I went outside.
But the point is that in the space of a few months I have gone from having a small rough spot on my nose, to having strange lumps come up under my skin.
Strange lumps that have now had me see three doctors, each one a specialist only to be sent to see the next. I am now waiting to get to see number four.

The third was hiring on with the T.S.A.!
Yes it is a shit job, with a whole lot of shit people, but it is the few gems that make it good, and the mass amount of face to face with strangers that has helped me emerge from my shell and deal with people.

Now I said all that to say this; Life is too short to spend not being direct and saying what you are thinking. Fuck whats proper! What happens if I die while waiting to have the chance to speak my mind?
We should all be living like we are on borrowed time. No one knows how long they have, or how long anyone else has.
Say what you have to say now! Ask the questions, Fight, Love, Laugh, Cry.
Enjoy each moment, we have so few.

Ever want something you cant have so bad it hurts?

Ever watch as some one else gets it instead?

Got this can at work, soon to be the coolest catch can this side of the Pacific!

T.M.I., Anyone?
I have a story from my past to tell.
If you do not like blood, pain, or lurid detail do not read this.

When I was a young man filled with lust and bad intention I had a girlfriend whom I loved very much.
Now she was a bit of a "sleeper", to look at her you would never know just what she was capable of until it was too late.
Now the whole point of this is she was prone to a bit of bragging about her oral skills, And I do not mean public speaking!
So one day we are at her place, and as celebration of her having gotten her braces removed that week, she had made her intentions clear; I was going to be blown harder than a Caribbean island in a hurricane!
Now this is all good and well.
No really it is, I love this sort of attention, and to my mind, if a girl is loving me to the point that she wants to do it, who am I to stand in her way?
Now we were in her bed, and it is late afternoon, and I was on my back with my eyes closed, just lost in the most perfect moment.
I was loving it.
She was doing her thing and I was just feeling my nerves fire and feeling as all the hair on my head prickled...Oh it was grand.
Then something new happened.
You ever have a rubber band snap when you are stretching it?
It was just like that, only the rubber band was on the end of my penis!
Then it sort of went numb.
"hey Babe, you got to stop for a second", I said.
She looked up at me and as I slid out of her mouth a thin stream of blood crossed her lips and it was at that moment that I knew something had gone horribly wrong!
"What's the matter?" she asked, Looking like a vampire unaware of the scene unfolding in front of her.
I did not answer, I watched as a stream of blood squirted from the end of my knob and made a dark stain on her sheets.
I watched my pulse and realized I was in trouble.
Grabbing my bit I squeezed it hoping to stop the bleeding. It stopped and I could see a jagged cut that went from the top of my knob, to the bottom edge.
"OH GOD, OH SHIT!!!"
Then she saw the blood.
"Is that blood?" she asked.
I was already out of be running to the bathroom, thinking about all the fun I would be having in the emergency room if I could not get the bleeding to stop.
I was a dumb ass, I wanted to stay the hell away from the hospital, and all the questions that could only be answered one way; Why yes, it was in her mouth, Thanks for asking!
I found gauze under the sink, and some paper medical tape.
It was not long before I had used the gauze and tape to patch my knob.
I was lucky, who knew that trauma causes E.D.? My "fix" held and I healed up.
Turns out the orthodontist left a single band around one of her upper molars, and it had got me.
To this day, I still have to both laugh and cry at how fast that experience went from good to horrid.

Trash House Part 2.

So here is the updated photo of the trash house.

the ply wood has moved to the inside of the window, the lawn is all dead, heaps of garbage all over the property...

So I got a look at the kid with the big fucking mouth today.

I almost felt bad.

...almost.

I see him come out of the house, and Wifey gives me the heads up; That's him!

I watch, the way you watch a car accident. This kid is a fucking mess! He comes shambling out of the house. He is skinny and tall, his movements are sort of rubbery, His head, His head is about the size of a small cantaloupe!

I want to laugh, I want to cry. I do neither, I just stare!

So it seems that we are getting threats from the shallow end of the gene pool.

Trash House.

Yes, it's the asshole's again!

How do I put this without sounding like a racist fuck?

Should I even care?

I know that in nice White middle class neighborhoods people cringe when they see the first Mexican family move in. The fear is that they are going to get a bunch of criminal slobs living next door to them.

And in most cases they find that the family is just as middle class and anti slob as they are.

But this is in East Los Angeles, and these are slob mexicans moving into a mexican neighborhood and fucking it up!

The last time I wrote about these fuck wit's was when they moved in and in less than a week crashed into the front of our car, and said nothing! Pretended it never happened!

We could not prove a thing and wound up just bending over and taking it.

Then a couple of months back the shitheads moved another family in with them!

So now it seems someone had a visitor with a stolen car visit, and this person had the driving skill of a crack crazed cracker in a toyota with three bald tires.

in short, the crack head pulls into the driveway using the back end of our car the same way you use one of those mushroom things on a bumper pool table.

Shoot, bounce, onto the hole!

Again, all is quiet, no one owns up to anything.

...almost, One (of the many) kid comes out of this house to stand on the porch and yell at my wife because she told him to get off the car. The little BASTARD was sitting on it, and felt that being asked to get his little lice ridden ass off some one else's property was an offence.

So my wife and some of the other neighbors were standing in shocked disbelief as this little asshole proceeds to yell at my wife, and threaten her with violence, and even has so few brain cells as to shout;"Watch what happens to your car next!"

It goes without saying that we have files a police report.

But still, what the fuck?

Freedom, Plain or toasted?

I found this sign in the L.A.X. parking lot...

We should be looking for one of Bin Ladin's boys hanging around the airport with a bag of pop corn...

Axis Lunch.

Saddam walked to the bistro knowing that this lunch was going to be bad.
He had been getting phone calls from that little German man ever since he had arrived in Hell.
The first one had been when Saddam was being processed in the security line in the entry terminal.
Some lesser demon was digging through his bags when a the loudspeaker cracked to life; Saddam Hussein, please pick up the white courtesy phone.
He had ignored the call, and simply gone through the rest of the processing.
In a few short days Saddam had moved from the Paris Hilton Motel and into his own post war ranch just at the foot of the Hell E Wood hills.
In the weeks that followed Saddam got a good job with the post office and had his own route.
Still every night when he returned home his answering machine and e-mail box was full.
That little German creep!
So it was to be that Saddam was to give in and agree to meet.
The bistro was empty save for the passed out drunk, and the creep.
"Saddam, I am so pleased you came!" Said the creep as he stood and welcomed Saddam to the table. "Please, sit, I have so much to ask, so much to offer..."
Saddam set his hat on the table and took the chair opposite his host.
"Do you know who I am?" the creep asked.
Saddam felt an intense hate for the man. Here was a person, an enemy, so full of his own importance that he could not see that he was in fact a little no body.
"My name is Adolf Hitler and".
"I know who you are" Saddam interrupted "Every child knows of you."
Hitler looked both pleased at being recognized, and disturbed at being interrupted.
Saddam leaned in and spoke in a slow even tone;" You were a disturbed little puppet, your doctor had you impaired on drugs, your staff were degenerate idiots, and you never got your hands dirty. Sure you had millions killed at your order, but you rose to power because other people wanted it, You had almost god like power and respect when you started, but you squandered it and became a sad little joke of a man."
Hitler stood so fast his chair fell on its back, His face red and swollen with anger.
"You dare slander me?" Hitler shouted, fists waiving in little circles.
Saddam stood and stepped around the table and into Hitlers face in one fluid movement that also brought the blade of his dagger inches from Hitlers nose.
"I killed many in my time you pathetic little man, I felt the life drain from my enemy's, I Stood up to the Americans and I have divided them, I have turned their old allies against them, I Did this, not you. Call me again and I will kill you."
Saddam turned, picking up his hat, and strode away.
Hah, Fuck Hitler...Bitch!

Afternoon delite.

The summer of 1994 had me working on my GSX-R 750 in front of the apartment building I lived in up in La Crescenta.
Now I had just pulled a set of upside down forks from a 91 from the salvage yard and had put them on my bike and this day was out on the front sidewalk bleeding the brake lines.
Now I was on the sidewalk because the apartment complex had a rule that said you could NOT work on any car or bike on the property.
Now this rule it seemed was only to be enforced by managers wife on me.
The guy down the hall with the fake ass Shelby Cobra could pull the engine on his rod with the manager and wife standing right there in front of him, all of em drinking beer and chatting.
God forbid she spot me with a screwdriver in my hand, It was "Burr, remember the lease agreement, no mechanic work on our property."
Now the city of Glendale had a law that forbid fixing ones car or bike on the street.
So, now I was trapped.
So what did I do?
I got stupid!
I decided to turn the sidewalk in front of the complex into my garage!
I would roll my bike up the street and around the corner to park it on the sidewalk in front of the building and work on it in front of some empty units.
Only one day the unit was not empty.
Bro and I were outside working on something, I do not remember what, with our backs to the building.
Bro and I were talking about packing it all up for the day when I heard the sound.
If you are a guy you have heard the sound, if you are a woman you have made it.
"Ohh".
Yes, that sound.
So here we are, outside in the kind of heat that Hitler and Saddam are feeling right now in Hell as they have beer and pork sausages.
"Ohh yes..."
Oh fuck! here we are, on the sidewalk and someones fucking some chick right behind us.
I glance over my shoulder.
OH FUCK! the window is OPEN, and I can see them!!!
What to do?
We can't sit here while they go at it, and they were getting louder by the second.
Grab the tools and push the bike out of here!
Shit, I have tools on the other side of the bike, And I will have to face that open window to get them!
Fuckfuckfuck!!!
"O.k. Bro grab the tools on this side of the bike as I get up and walk around to the other side, only match my moves so you are always blocking me from them."
This works. we gather the tools and parts as the girl is yelling in Korean and throwing in the occasional "Yes, Fuck me".
Bro has the tools and I am on the left side of the bike getting ready to push it down the street.
Only I glance at the window.
Do not ask, I don't even think it was in my control, My eyes had a mind of their own.
There they were, on the bed. She was naked (nice titties) on all fours and he was behind her pounding away.
And they were both looking at me as I tried to pull my eyes out of their bedroom.
She winked at me.

I said Lanolin, Motherfucker, not this aloevera bullshit!

It's June or July, and I am shotgun in Bro's 74 Super Beetle.
The thing is running up the 134 on a bombing run to Fry's electronics.
I say bombing run because that is what I can imagine it was like for my Grandfather riding in the belly of a B-17 over Germany; Loud and things are rattling, you can feel the engine as it burns the fuel. All very rough edged and primitive.
The very core of cool!
So we make our way through the swarms of suicide bombers in Glendale and emerge alive and well in Burbank.
The Burbank airport is going through changes right now, we get to see the steel bones of a building that was once a factory that made p-51's and Hell Cats.
The only other thing standing in the factory is this great big blue/green press. The thing has got to be at least three stories high. In the end it was taken out by T.N.T., or Cemtex. Too big and bad to go down by a wrecking ball. Bad ass piece of equipment, the end of an era.
So we get to Fry's, and park.
Fry's on the weekend is a madhouse, I know in other states it has a grocery store and blah blah blah, but the Burbank store is an icon. So fuck you!
This place was itself a factory that cranked out fighters in the 40's to beat the crap out of the Jap's and Krauts. Now it is something from a 1950's sci fi movie.
The outside has a huge flying saucer crashing into it.
The inside is just as cool. Giant Ants for the movie "Them" are over in the appliance section.
"Gort" The big silver robot from "the Day The Earth Stood Still" stands, blond in his arms at the beginning of the Television section.
I could go on about the aliens and planes but I would rather you check it out for your self if you can.
I may take pictures to post sometime, if the staff let me.
ANYWAY... Bro and I are looking for bad movies and as we are walking up one of the isles "It" happens.
We have all had one of those moments when all the planets are in alignment and freaky shit happens.

So here we are, I am walking up this aisle, Bro is a step behind me. There are people behind and in front of us, and I see it.

Now let me be clear: I JUST SAID "IT"!

Walking towards me is a couple.

A couple of queers, one looks like a normal queer, the other looks like the Woman skin dress making killer from "Silence of the Lambs".

Only these two fucks are well over six feet tall, and at least 200 pounds.

They look like they are weight lifters or something, and that just highlights the absurdity of the tranny dudes appearence.

Now let me set the tone, if you met me and Bro on the street this day you would think you were looking at a 180 pound skinhead and a even taller redneck.

So as I am walking towards the deviants I am thinking who would win the fight, The Springer guests, or the rejects from Fight Club.
Now our closing distance is about six (YES 6) feet and something horrifying happens.
I hear this voice behind me, In a perfect imitation of Buffalo Bill call out; It Puts The Lotion On The Skin!
I Mean HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
Bro has to cut loose just as I get into striking range of Bill!
I am trying not to laugh, but when I hear other people around us start laughing I lose it.
I am laughing and on the inside I am playing out the ways this is going to turn ugly.
Bill is going to fucking run a fist out the back of my head and eat my brains!
I can see him respond, I keep walking and pray for some sort of Divine intervention.
People on both sides of the aisle are laughing and looking at Bill and his boyfriend.
I think that this could be the reason I still have all my teeth, and Bro didn't get his asshole turned into a cockring, too many witnesses around.
Still even today this is one of the funniest moments of my life.
Thanks to Bro and his sharp wit, and total lack of self preservation.

Schrodengers Cat.

The puzzle of Schrodengers cat is one of observation.
Is the cat alive or dead inside the box? one does not know until the cat is observed. Until the observation has occurred, the cat is in a state of neither death or life.

Or in a simple sense the cat just "is".

Cat; the other white meat.

Much has been said about the use of cat in fine dining.
there are some considerations before you go into the consumption of feline dishes.
The first and most important is the choice of cat.
It is no small task. If you are looking for a fine cut with a tender and pleasing texture suited to gourmet applications then the farm bred and raised "pet store" or "house cat" makes the ideal candidate.
On the other hand a nice stew or open pit roast works better with the "free range" or "stray" cat.
Once you have decided on a menu and choice of cat you have many considerations.
The most obvious is; Wine.
What goes best with cat?
Again the answer is not about the cat, but how it is prepared and what are the side dishes. More on this later.
First lets cover the cleaning and preparation of the cat.
Assuming that the cat has already been culled, you will need to tie off the penis(to prevent urine from contaminating the meat) and tie off the anus (for the same reason).
Next use wire to bind the animals hind legs together and suspend it over a bucket.
Using a skinning knife run a shallow cut from the throat up to just in front of the groin.
Next cut around the tail section so this cut begins and ends at the top of your first cut.
Pull the skin aside and using the same knife cut to the left and right of the animals throat, allowing the blood to drain from the carcass.
This may take a while so go have a smoke or go watch the Springer show.
When you come back the carcass should be bled dry. Use clippers to remove the animals front feet and if you can use the clippers to remove the head as well.
Next pull the skin down off the animal and let it drop into the bucket.
Take your short Sheff's knife to open the body cavity, always use a down stroke.
You will be able to pull the organs and intestines out and let them drop into the bucket. Make sure that you have the inside of the carcass clean before you proceed to the next step.
Take the animal down and remove the tail and hind feet.
You should now have a nice carcass ready to be cut into sections.
Follow the same pattern that you would for a cow.

Now, What is it going to be?
A ball game week end is simple; feed the meat into a grinder and mix it with egg and bread crumbs for cat burgers.
Another option is to make some classic old world sausage, this too can be cooked on the grill. And when it comes to sides; Baked potato, corn on the cob, what have you.
A fine german lager would be best with this.

Of course use the legs and lower parts for grinding, Save the thighs and rump for the real gourmet work!

A fillet of cat is always a great first dinner date at home meal.
First set a nice red wine (or Cabernet) in a bucket to chill.
As always have all your ingredients ready, first prepare your vegetable dish, but take it off the heat a little early. Don't worry, they will finish cooking with their own heat.
Take a cast iron skillet and season it with olive oil and a pinch of sea salt.
While the skillet heats, take your cat fillets and dip them in your seasoning, be sure to coat both sides.
Your seasoning should be; 1/4 cup dark Chilli powder, olive oil and ground fennel seed.
The seasoning should be a paste, thick but not clumpy or dry.
Check the skillet with a drop of water. If the drop sizzles and disappears right away you are ready to go.
Drop the fillet onto the skillet and let it sear until you see the amount of steam decrease. Then flip the fillet over and repeat.
Once both sides are sealed cut the flame by half and add 1/4 cup of red wine and let it all cook for at least twenty minutes on the low flame.
Now once the fillet is done, remove it to a rack and take 1/4 cup more red wine and add it to the pan. As it all heats up add puree mango 1/4 cup and bring the heat back up.
Stir the sauce until it thickens and has a even field of small bubbles in its mass.
Take you dinner plate, place the fillet in the center and place the vegetables around the outside edge. spoon on just enough sauce to cover the top of the fillet leaving the edges and sides free.
Serve with your choice of wine enjoy the evening!

moneymoneymoneymoney...MONEY!

Need I say where this is, or what they were doing to get all this cash?

Drugs in Mexico...

Diana and Fritzie.

Vegas Baby!

Went to Vegas to help brotherman move back to L.A., it was a cool little male bonding sort of road trip, and got to watch a bunch or brit television in the process. Good deal!
Got a lot going and yet have nothing going.
Hmm, have to do something about that...

Good Bye Baby!

I don't really know what to do sometimes, Like when I ran into her again. After almost twenty years we run into each other and share a moment of recognition. "Hey, I know you!" she says. And all I can think to my self is Really? god your fucking hot! And she keeps on staring into my eyes, and now it's making me more than a little nervous, I know her from somewhere, I know those eyes, I know this feeling.
"No, Really, I know you..." and she calls me by my first name. So now I am in a panic, who the hell is she? Damn she's making my perv brain hurt, and I still cant remember from where I know her! "We went to school together Burr, You sat next to me for a year and a half on the bus," And all of a sudden it all comes back, and I know who she is! We talk for a while and she tells me more than I need to know,way more than I need...
And so we talk. It all is back like no time has passed.
The long afternoons we spent on the school bus, trapped on the 405, just killing time, making out, feeling emotions that were real.
I can feel myself blushing as she is talking because I am thinking about how I used to touch her breasts under her jacket when we were kissing, How alive it all made me feel, How I wanted to be inside her then, and even now face to face after all this time, having a pang of desire...
God she is hot!
But it changes nothing, two decades have paved over this playground and the local city has put up a Wal-mart in it's place.
It is true: You can not go home again, and the visit will always pale to the memories of better days long gone.
Better to live off those memories, Baby.

What if your sparkplug looks like this? Chances are you have too much water in the air/fuel mix.
Ha Ha Ha...