From Copper Mountain:
Season 13. Hell, I still remember my first run back in the day. K-town locals say what. But y'all know the Zephyr team story, which turned a counter culture movement into mainstream shite. Well, that's what I saw today up at Copper. Too much image, not enough soul. Gone are the days of sponsor-free US Opens, where Pat Bridges harassed the riders with a bullhorn and the big air contest consisted of throwing beer bottles at the crowd. Now XBox and ESPN run the show. Unfortunate and true enough--to be avant-garde is to sign your own death warrant. But a first day is a first day and I'm psyched to be back in the game. For those of you who want a taste of the old school, here's your gallery. My first board--the '86 Cruiser. The 'rents went out and bought it in '92 without having any idea of what they were doing. I wish I still had it. Classic.
My only question: how did Steigerwald's car make it up there?
So, after a long day of riding, we get back to Boulder for a nice dinner with the ladies--you know the pretty ones. And lo and behold, Kaydee tries to cut me out of the picture....literally:
Why not qualify my brief absence as fashionable? I do think the illustrator forgot that I was the first to show up for her barbeque a few weeks back.
But, it turns out that the Kansas creationist just wanted someone to flirt with and missed the company. So we laughed and had a good time.
And now, back to John Mayer. Rogue Stitch fans may remember that I posted this image a while back:
Well, now I'm convinced that Seth McFarlane frequents this site for the latest and greatest:
The Family Guy owes me one--and I call in favors.
I also like to pick on webtards, like this guy who thinks he can cover Naked Eye's Always Something There to Remind Me. Some call it snarky--and I thank them for such a compliment. What I don't get is why this guy can't pull up a webpage with the actual lyrics to the friggin' song. I mean, come on.
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on Wednesday, November 09, 2005 at 11:25 PM.
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Ok, Rogue Stitch (what does that mean, anyway?), here's a topic for you to tackle seriously, or just be seriously funny. As you wish. My old friend Adam and I had a joke about "The Nudity Question." When is it naked and when is it nude, and what's the difference? I thought since you toasted the striptease, this might be of interest.
As I know it, The Marais is known for these things: Orthodox Jews, Orthodox Homosexuals, and BoBo Chic. It is a fashionable area now, and precisely where one goes clothes shopping on a Sunday (if the Exchequer permits), since it's the only part of Paris where the shops are open. Except for Starbucks, maybe. (Or maybe you could tackle commercial & cultural colonialism on underprivileged nations.)
Thanks for consistently being "cleverest of the blogs." I'm generally disappointed when I click over to my random neighbors' postings. Even the guy with the Aristotle/Descartes sight wasn't quite sharp enough, not to mention that battering ram he has lodged in his Plato's Cave.
Promise us you'll live the secret life of an esssayist once you get your law degree. 'Cause you a writer.
JT: let me know if you want in on the collective. hakimshammara-cublawg@yahoo.com.
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