Friends...

How bad is it when the handful you have tend bar.

Quite a voyage indeed...

I'm back a week now, and finally able to stop my head from spinning long enough to update my blog about my vacation. Work has been a complete c*nt and is trying hard to stress me out after my two weeks of decompression. Not gonna happen. Work can go fuck itself in the stress-hole, nice try. On to the ship's log...

Day one: Dropped my furry ship-mates Duke and Hildy at their boarding kennel. I hate to leave them for such a long spell, but I've no choice. They like it there, and don't try to bite me when I pick them up after their stay. I left port around 0945, and after an uneventful trip, arrived in Las Vegas shortly after 1630. I checked into the dump that is the Sahara hotel's old tower. "Good enough for the girls I go with", as Papa Freeman used to say. All I needed was a place for me and Chuck to lay our heads down after a night of pillaging, it'll do. As I surveyed the room to address security issues, I noticed the "art" hanging above the headboards of each bed. One was a non-descript mosque. I imagined it on fire. The other depicted the ka'ba (for those of you un-cultured skallywags, it's the big, black lego block in Mecca the moose limbs pilgrimate to and whirl around it a bit). I imagined the whole lot flattened and shining like a glass parking lot. I took off one of the pillowcases and hung it over the print. Better.

Charles arrrrrived a short time later, and we arranged with the valets to park our bikes in the more "secure" valet lot (more on that later). Later that evening, we fired up the bikes and headed to PTs to meet and greet with fellow Lightfighters over food and beers. Was good to see some old faces, and meet some new ones. There ended up being about 30 or so of us, and it wasn't long till it was just the Lightfighter Crew on deck. Chuck and I didn't get too deep into the grog, as we were on our bikes, and riding drunk ain't smart. We went back to the Sahara and bought a $20 pint of Jim Beam, some bottled water, and chilled out in the room before racking out. The next day was SHOT Show time!

This topic will grow and evolve as I recap the rest of the story over the next few days.

To be Continued, stay tuned.......

Tick-tock, tick-tock!

0-hour draws closer. Monday the 17th, I drop the dogs off at the kennel, hook up the trailer, load 'Lil Sandy, toss my possibles bag into the truck and point the front toward Las Vegas. Meeting up with Chuck for a few days of SHOT show where we'll "Wage War Like a Viking, Party Like a Pirate" with Donkey Punchers, Meat-necks, 6' Homeless Grannies, Tactical Silverbacks, and others the likes of which few have met and lived to tell about it. There'll be a Pirate wedding, a ride through Hell's Canyon, Bacon Waffles, and sore feet.

When we've had enough, Chuckles and I are riding from Vegas to the eL Bee Cee while my Dear Old Dad drives chase. It's been a couple years since I've been home to Bizarro World, aka DPRK (Derpocratic Peepole's Rapeublic of Kalifornia). It'll be good to see my fam again, hook up with old friends, chase women, carouse my old haunts, and race 'Lil Sandy's straight pipes in the Nanny State. A week home in the sunshine and warmer climes is gonna feel good. Don't call me, I ain't answerin'.

2010, F*#K YOU, and the horse you rode in on!

Well, I sent 2010's sorry-ass packing. It hung around for a year like a cloud over my head, raining death, sorrow, pain, and hurt. The silver lining was there though. I reconnected with an old friend, my Brother got married, and I became an uncle by my other brother. As I peer out my window this beautiful morning, scraping the fur off my teeth, I see clear, blue skies. This my friends, is the dawn of a change. While the event that made 2010 the pile 'o shit that it was for me is but two days away (Jan 3rd), I'm going to keep my eye's on the horizon, not let last year creep back into my life with it's detritus of blackness.