What a day!

I can't begin to tell you how very difficult it was to wipe the smile off of my face today.  I had some running around to do to hustle up an air tank so that I could fill up my front tire.  I was going to run it the way it was down to the gas station but I knew that I would probably pop the tube or waste the sidewall on the tire.  Luckily I found one, filled that bitch up and raced home to fill Koko with air.  I rolled her out on to the driveway and she fired on the very first kick!  She was ready to run and run she did.  To be honest, it has been at least 16 months since I've ridden her and the last time I parked her she had a God awful noise in the bottom end.  I hopped on her, threw my boy Adam's tank bag on the tank, filled with water, smokes and my phone, just in case the old girl wanted to teach me a lesson for not riding her and take a full on shit out in the desert.  Although the water came in handy at a stop light on the way home, I never had to bust out the emergency kit!  I rode her for 40 miles, damn near in circles, never getting more than 5 miles from the house in case I had to push her home.  Each time I stopped at a light, I'd look down for leaks, smoke or fire......  there was a little of everything but fire and you know what?  I didn't care!  The smell of that fresh 50 weight seeping ever so slightly out between the jugs evoked great memories of rides past.  The first five of those forty miles were horrifying to me.  The sounds that come from this old girl I had not heard in a long, long time.  Each and every single one of them sounded like something was terribly wrong with her.  With each bump in the road, with each jockey shifted change of gears they all came back to me.  The high pitched jingle on the lower right side, fuck, what is that?  Oh yeah, that is my Fabricator Kevin Brass Knuckle kicker pedal, once you hit 60 mph it taps the external oil filter.... What the hell was that?  Oh yeah, it's okay, that is the sound of the springs in the ol' springer compressing.  With each mile that passed under her tires, I could feel her coming in to her stride and each sound a familiar memory to me.  At first I didn't break 50 mph but that sure as hell didn't last long.  Last night I put 1 gallon of gas in her just in case I had to drain the tanks again.  After the first five miles, I rode her straight to the gas station and filled the tanks to the brim!  I rode her out in to the desert, parked her, running, in the middle of a traffic island and stepped back to take a look at my beautiful mistress in all her bad ass, sexy glory!  NO LEAKS worth mentioning, idling perfectly in the desert heat and ready to go.  I rode her back to the house and pulled up in front of the garage, took a few steps back and shot the photo above.  I could not get the smile off of my face!

I can't explain the joy that old bikes bring me, all of them.  To see an old knuck, pan or flattie engine even sitting on a shelf touches somewhere down deep in my soul and makes me dream of what that bike was and what it could be.  There are no ugly old bikes!  They are each beautiful and magical to me.  They all have a story to tell if only they could.  To see them going down the road makes me crazy and I chase them down, but to ride one is like nothing you have ever known.  There is just something so mystical about twisting the throttle on an antique piece of iron, stepping on the foot clutch and hand shifting through the gears and wondering what you would do if you really had to stop quickly, it is near impossible to put into words.  I stood there for a moment, just listening to her run today and thought that life is good.  No matter what the universe throws at us, no matter how hard the times, my knuck is back on the road and will bring me so much more joy!  I could not stop thinking about how proud I was to have this old girl in my garage but I was damn near 3/4's hard looking at her outside of it! 

Until we see each other on the road again,

Keep the wind in your face,
Tits in your back
and The Man off your ASS!

Your Friend,
Jack Shit

Kookoo for Koko Knuck ! ! !

It's been nearly a year and a half since the last time I rode the knuckle.  I can't remember what rally I came home from but the weather had broken and it was gorgeous out.  I grabbed up the ol' lady and threw her on the back of the bike and we headed off to the annual Shriner's swap meet here in Phx.  On the ride home, I felt like the bike was lacking in its normal power and I heard a funny noise in the lower end.  The last thing I wanted to do was blow up my knuckle so I parked it.  When I had the time and the space to take a good look at her I would, very first time.  Well I'm sure many of you had said the same thing.  I'll get right around to that and never do.  My garage looks as if a bomb blew up in it and shit is everywhere.  I still have tools spread all over from the renovation work on the house.  I am horrible at losing parts when I take something apart and don't put it back together immediately, so I held off on doing anything.  Of course we ran in to some big time money troubles like so many others have in this suck ass economy and my mistress sat in a dark garage, lonely and un-ridden.  Each time that I went in to the garage to get something or to pull out another bike, I would touch the bars or the tank and tell her that I loved her and promise that one day soon, I'll be riding her again.  Well I could not take the thought of her sitting in that garage any longer. It was time for Koko to fire back to life.  Today was the day!  I didn't know what to expect, she usually makes me pay dearly for ignoring her.  Sturgis, here we come!  See you all at the Broken Spoke!

The Spoke's Spring Suck Off

In Laconia this year we hosted a few nights of oil wrestling and it was a big hit.  Each night we would auction off the right to oil down the girls.  The third night of the oil wrestling was to be our big night.  I had promoted it all day long and the crowd was hungry for some girl on girl battling.  We were all set, the pool was inflated, the oil was on hand and the crowd was jammed around the ring.  With 15 minutes before we were to start my boss came over, said "look at me, I've got something to tell you and I don't want you to get upset, I want you to fix it; the girls are not coming"!  What girls I asked?  THE WRESTLERS!  Holy shit, there is going to be a riot, what the hell do we do to entertain this crowd that is now packed to the gills?  Then the idea popped in to my head as I looked across the property in despair.  I saw the Pizza sign from our food vendor and remembered that they sold sausage and pepper sandwiches.  Holy shit, what if we just put some money on it and bring women out of the crowd to do their best simulated Suck off?  To say that it was a huge success would be to sell it short of what it was.  EVERYONE LOVED IT.  Here is a quick video clip my buddy Rodeo captured of the event!  I hope you enjoy it! 

Until we see each other on the road again,  Keep the wind in your face, tits in your back and the man off your ass!  Your pal, Jack Shit

I'm so sick of this shit!

Where does the greed end?  To fly from Arizona to Sturgis any other time of the year runs between $39 - $59 bucks each direction depending on what day you fly.  Now that is a direct flight from Mesa to Rapid City.  Those flights are going up each day as the rally gets closer.  I can understand that demand drives cost, it is the way of the world but when is enough, enough?  The round trip flight, if booked now is just under $400.  Here is the kicker now, so pay attention.  Those prices are on a small, regional carrier and it takes about 2.5 hours to fly there.  If you fly out of Phoenix, depending on what time you leave, it takes between 16 -20 hours to get to Rapid City with at least one layover, some flights two layovers and the cost is anywhere between $640 - $900!  Does this make any sense to anyone?  It takes about 16-20 hours to drive there!  Perhaps that is just what happens, the plane actually never takes off and it just follows the freeways to Rapid City. 

I had hoped that Diane would be able to join me for a few days early in the week before the rally got too busy and too intense to spend any time with her.  If she takes the less expensive flight, she is gone for 5 days and that is far too long to be away from home and work.  My niece who is moving in with us from Jersey just scored a great job here and begins on August 6th in Tempe and she has to be home for that.  This is the very reason why I try not to make plans and get excited about them as someone or something always screws them up! 

Speaking of Sturgis, check this shit out; Click on this damn link!  We've got some pretty big plans to entertain you all this year and I am looking forward to trying to bring some much needed smiles to your face!

Until we see each other on the road again,

Keep the wind in your face,
Tits in your back
and The Man off your ASS!

Your friend,
Jack Shit

Just Bend Over And Take It......

So today, I decided that it was time to freshen up the ol' blog.  Move some shit around, delete some pics, add some pics, you know, keep it up to date.  When I tried to delete a photo and add another to the main page, I received a bright red warning message telling me that I have exceeded my limit of storage space on Picassa.  Really I thought, WHAT THE FUCK IS PICASSA and add it to the list of things that I have taken too far as of late!  So using common sense, I went and found my account and figured if I have used up too much space for storage, I'll just delete a shit ton of pics and that will make more space and I can add one simple fucking photo!  Apparently this is not the way the world works.  So they now have me by the balls.  I would use the old traditional phrase, "they got me by the short and curly's" but since my balls are shaven it would be far from the truth and by now, you all know how I feel about the truth, it's all or nothing on this end!  Man this pisses me off, I really must admit it.  I can "purchase" more storage from Google for X number of dollars but I've yet to figure out the formula and God knows how fast I will use that shit up.  These fuckers are like dope dealers, they first give you a taste, then they get you using, followed up by getting hooked and then they got ya!  They got ya on the comeback!

Now the purpose of this post was to see if I was first off able to even make one, then to see if I could add a photo to it and sure as shit, I can.  Well then again, I've yet to try and post it, so I guess you and I will find out at the very same time.  So I have enough space left in my mysterious Picassa account to post a pic in a blog post but not enough to change a photo on SAID BLOG!  I'm as confused as a baby in a rubber nipple factory!

The photo at the top of this post was one of the mysterious pics from that damn storage account and it was taken by the one and only Uli at the Broken Spoke last year at the Rally in Sturgis.  It was shot without my knowledge from a pretty good distance as I rolled up in front of the bar to talk with GTP.  It is one of my favorite shots that I've seen of myself.  The moment that I see the photo, it takes me instantly back to the very moment that it was shot.  This is the morning after my infamous dirt track racing with the fine folks from the Wall of Death.  Here is some advice from your old pal Jack Shit;  Never get on your bike after slamming a few Jager Bombs and go flat track racing on a track that has chest high grass and has not been groomed in a year,  add that it was 4am and most importantly, NEVER, EVER, do it with a bunch of guys who have DEATH in their damn names!  It is an honest to God miracle that I did not break my neck or my nuts and believe me, I came close to breaking all three!  I awoke bruised, dirty, swollen, sore and with clumps of dry grass from my bike frame to the back of my jeans!  The bike would barely run as I rode up to the front of the bar where George the Painter was standing and he just looked at me, laughed and shook his head!  I'll never forget that night, those guys or my first Sturgis Rally hosting the World Famous Broken Spoke Saloon, County Line!  I figured what the hell, this is the perfect photo to try and post with the Rally now less than 3 weeks out!

I've decided that although the FXR performed flawlessly on the ride there and back and just like an old CR 250 on the track, it is time for the Knuckle to return to Sturgis, so tomorrow, amongst all of the other things I have to do to get my ass in gear and ready for the 72nd annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, I will begin the process of getting the Knuck up and running and ready for the road!  Wish me luck.  For those of you who have never seen my pride and joy, the second love of my life, here is a pic of the ol' girl.  Keep an eye out for it when you come to the Spoke and know this; if you see that ol' red 47' Knuck, I won't be far from her!

I call this shot simply, 46', 47' 48'.  That's my Knuck on the right side of the pic.  So now as I sit here at nearly 1:30 am trying to figure this all out, I am left with two choices and they are to start completely from scratch with a brand new blog with a different host or just bend over and take it from good ol' Google.  Hell, I didn't even know Blogger was part of Google.  I would imagine that I will just bend over and take it.  The only thing that I can hope for is that our friends at Google are kind enough to spit in my ass crack before they drive balls deep in to my "special place"!  The place that I've always prided myself on as being an exit only ramp on the freeway of my body is looking like it may turn out to be an HOV lane, an express lane right from Google's cyber cock to my 43 year old virgin ass!  Well unless of course we count that drunken night when I slipped trying to climb the fence in flip flops... but hell, that is another story all together!  I hope to see as many of you as possible up in Sturgis.

Until we see each other on the road again,

Keep the wind in your face,
Tits in your back
and The Man off your ASS!

Your friend,
Jack Shit