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i hear the wind in jail cells without windows

first i’d like to direct you good folks to the man who makes the most affordable and toughest chain tensioners in the freaking world, jon at monster craftsman:

jon has supported bikerMetric for nine solid months. he let me create ads for monster craftsman in magazines and for a small fee i was also able to give him his slogan, “manufactured under your bed, punk!” because as we all know, monsters live under your bed. it’s the angry monkeys that live in the closet. with the skeletons.

the lincoln monster ads you’ve seen recently in a few biker rags are my mad creation. i want to thank jon for his support and let you mad metric mofos know he’s the guy to see for chain tensioners and a whole lot more.

arr!

now, since this is carnival week, and mardi gras is tuesday, i’ve decided to get loaded all day long between now and then and then do what i did last year; spend lent (the 40 days after mardi gras) sober, giving up beer and all alcoholic beverages for more work and less weight. last year i lost 18 pounds. put it all back on since…. so expect some extra fun here on bM between now and tuesday.

regarding weirdness, you all know my brit friend robbie. he has been building an nsu chopper. not the bike kind, the post ww2 auto kind. yanked from the **** of a commie-produced threat to the beetle, his engine now proudly presides in an hand-made, garage built frame that is gonna scare the s**t out of the constipated.

the dreams we never tell while listening to a song are the saddest moments of our lives. should we state the dreams we have or shall we live alone in our hearts filled with sadness because the cure was just on the stereo?

robbies nsu powered chopper makes my tears taste like the decomposition of a whale. like the ruin of mankind.  as if somebody made you think they cared but stabbed you with your back to them. that is what robbie’s latest chopper is, a killer of innocents.

this is all meant to be a compliment.

robbie's kickass nsu chopper from ****
robbie’s nsu

if *** was a conscious entity and my deeds deemed cool by the part of him/her/them who came to live with us to realize there was no way we’d obey, i’d argue most of you should be killed to insure the purity of humankind. i wouldn’t care about your skin color, religion, or sexual proclivities, only that hopes and dreams occasionally fall out of 30-story buildings.

so what’s a 40 ounce of malt liquor, a 12 pack of miller and two blue moon spring blonde ales make me drink, i mean drunk, i mean think…. 12X26+40=whoa dude! thank *** for lent coming wednesday.

here is another ultra clean xs400 chopper. this one was built by tail end customs out of league city, texas. look out for a lot more stuff about these guys coming soon.

xs400 bob-a-chop | tail end customs
yamaha xs400 bobber | tail end customs

race ya! arr!

here’s one of my fave brits. she’s pj harvey, and if you don’t know, and if you’re punk rock, and if you want to impress chicks who might somehow dig you, you might want to dig this and share it with those chicks:

and here’s the flaming lips because their name is funny and represents what i believe this post is worth:

last beer. drank 18 today (adding in head so it may be more). pretty good, huh?

i’d like to thank everybody who’s clicked over from BikeEXIF. chris is a good swabbie and also a lice infested bikerMetric supporter in ways more than a mere link on his site or twitter can attest to. he’s also the f***er with a job at an ad agency. that’s why the duel shall be in new orleans. he can afford the tickets and a couple nights on the couch of my humble abode. all i do is ramble here for pennies.

here is something i learned tonight: i can drink a 12-pack and a 40oz of olde english and still post half assed sense to you bilge ridden mutineers.

arr!

[NOTE: i don’t know how long the pirate talk will be around so deal with it.]

if your dreams are not what you’re living, then maybe you ought to stick it to the man, hurt your banker, pray to ***, and be what you dream. that’s merely my opinion. take it for what you think it’s worth.

ye all be some scurvy-plagued scallywags! thank you for coming around.

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