So yeah, this week I got a whole lot of nothing done on my scooter...had plans to do shit..I even brought my elbow grease and a can do attitude. Anyhow..I need to get on this thing, my motor will be done before I know it. I'm gonna try a little less fucking off and a little more choppering this week. We'll see what happens..dig the flat track pics.
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The following events occurred on 21 October, 2012.
Stockton, CA. 8:13am. Mike Riot kicks his bike and gets ready to leave the house and meet up with a few buddies. Plans were laid that involved a run to Murphys CA. He sped off, ignoring traffic laws and speed restrictions. Clearly a menace to society.
Stockton, CA. 8:26am. Mike meets up with club brother and all around rad dude Jason Steel, aka Pretty Eyes aka Pretty Thighs aka Salt 'n' Pepa aka Young Richard Gere. The two fucked around in the garage and looked at Jason's rigid ironhead project. On the street, it is said to be coming out pretty bad ass. Mike and Jason start their bikes and head north to meet up with another buddy and head to Lodi, CA.
Stockton, CA. 8:59am. Rolling up to the rendezvous point, Nick Anderson aka Pickles, is nowhere in sight. Running late. Minutes later, he shows up and the crew hit the road. Next stop: Lodi.
Lodi, CA. 9:26am. Freeda Farms. Mike and the boys roll in to meet with Tim Maloney, aka Timmo aka Aww Maybe aka H.N.I.C. The ragtag group of misfits kick the tires and light the fires and motor on into Lockeford, CA., where they stop for some light dining.
Lockeford, CA. 10:38am. Mike and the gang saddle up and continue the journey towards valley springs where things take a violent turn. After a few weeks of tracking down a phantom noise, things finally come to a head, reaching a literal breaking point.
Valley Springs, CA. 11:21am. Mike continues on hwy 12 going roughly 60mph when a loud grinding emanates from his primary. Not good. He pulls over with a deep rooted sadness in his heart. Is this his first breakdown ever? Unfortunately yes. Scared to ride onward and risk any more damage, Mike decides to limp a quarter mile back to a gas station and wait for Timmo to head home and grab his pickup. The gang decides that tall cans may dull the pain of the breakdown so they indulge.
Shithole gas station, 12:38pm. Many minutes, tall cans, and gay jokes pass and Tim returns. Mike does the push of sorrow and loads his chopper into the pickup. Nick presses onward to Murphys, CA. Mike, Jason, and Tim head back to Stockton. Defeated and head hung low Mike is puzzled by the day's events.
Stockton, CA. 1:49pm. Mike arrives home, unloads his scoot and pushes it into the garage..
The noise and cause of the breakdown has yet to be determined. This case is still under investigation.
If you have any information regarding this case, please call: 1.800.WTF.DUDE.
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Two things.
Number one: Monday afternoon, Jamey and I dropped my motor off with Mr. Kafton.
Number two: myself, Mike, and George "flame boobs" Perry collaborated ideas and got some sissy bar-ing done.
Very stoked to have gotten my motor to Dave's to get the rebuild started. It's going to be fuckin awesome! Now I feel a mad scramble coming on to get the rest of the bike done. Anyhow, this thing is gonna be pretty cool. Almost as cool as eating a whopper on the toilet. Not that I've done that. I just mean..nevermind, I'll save it for Thursday..
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So yeah, there was a swap meet. Jamey and the twins, Pat, Pretty Eyes and I headed to the fairgrounds to meet up with George "The Melon Master" Perry around 8. We linked up and began walking the meat swap, bumped into fine line Mike and his boo, and a couple other p.a.l.s. We made our rounds..I may be the only one who bought anything. Extra lenses for my taillight. Fuck yes.
Ready to get the fuck on, a Mi Ranchito suggestion is made and we round up the dawgs. Burritos: engage! We ate, drank a bit, hung out.. Originally we were gonna ride for a bit after the swap, but the Mexican food set in and we all got pretty lazy. George "Save it for Thursday" Perry asked if we wanted to head to his place and peep out some dumbkins. We made the short ride out to his place and he gave us the grand tour. Very cool. He capped off the tour with a fuckload of pumpkins for us to sample. What a guy.
We high tailed it home, cruising the same back roads we came in on. Had a lot of fun, unfortunately, a couple of buddies didn't come out to make it the full crew. Next time!
Peep out the pictures, pretty cool. Dig the motion blur in some of the riding pics, kinda neat.
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Well, what do we have here? This cool little video was brought to my attention by the one and only Willie Mandella. Cool footage, cool music.. I don't know much about this video, but judging by the title, it occurs on hwy 1. Judging by Willie's chaps in the video, they had a good time. This knees in the breeze snippet was filmed and arranged by George "The Wizard" Perry.
CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!
Watch "highway 1 GONE COME ON!" on YouTube
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Today, I was saddened a great deal when I looked at my tele and had a text message from Papa that read: "No shopnight". I was devastated. Would there be no choppering for me tonight?? No.. Just as my sadness had begun to hit its peak, the pinnacle of all bum-outs, my phone rang. Who was at the other end making this call? George "Melon Man" Perry. George shared in my feelings of displeasure and flabbergast, and then made a saucy move and invited me to his house for a bit of fucking off and a bit of Portuguese sausage. Sounds odd, I know. Don't make this weird.
I arrive after a short drive down 99 and George gives me an introduction to his dawgs then immediately shows me to his man cave (lucky bastard). Mike shows up and we head inside for a meal that was handcrafted to perfection by none other than George "love you long time" Perry. Linguicia from the croc pot. Awesome. After this, we head back to the cave, and put up some florescent lights?? Ok. George installed a kickstand while Mike and I stood around and made busy with conversation.
Later on, I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Perry. Who, upon further investigation, turned out to be caucasian, despite the bullshit line Mike and George had been feeding me. Dicks. All in all, fun night, low stress, no BS, just some good ol' fashioned hanging out with the bros.
I look forward to hanging at the abode of George "sanweesh" Perry again. Thanks handsome!
Here are some pics for your enjoyment.
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