"Decent Porche" No Longer an Oxymoron

Saw this in one of the machine design rags we get at work and knew I had to share. This is the Porsche Rinspeed Bedouin. The six cylinder boxster engine has been converted to run on natural gas. Acceleration is 0-60 in 5.6 seconds. Top end is 155 mph due to electrical and mechanical inhibitors installed. The roof is lowered by electrical motors hidden in the thicker side walls of the hatch to form the bed of a truck. With tailgate extended for extra capacity, the bed is six feet long.

So it's just big enough to haul two choppers on a light weight trailer with a big dog kennel secured in the bed. And when not being used as a truck, it's a pretty kick ass little wagon. I think the El Camino has finally been usurped.

Success!

Sera is alive and well. Last nights efforts have been duly rewarded. The front tire can now lock up on a dime and stay locked up for at least $7.50. So I have all the go and braking power I need. Use it wisely, grasshopper.

She sure is fun. Low to the ground, feet stretched in front of you, over-steering at the mere thought of which direction you want to go. Everything feels so comfy. Then the rear wheel hits a bump and you get tossed like a mechanical bull ride. "Save me Jebus!"

Fuzzy Head

I seem to have picked up a cold this weekend. Woke up this morning with a sore throat and a nose that would not stop running. Stuffed a snot rag in my back pocket and headed to work.

And I stayed three hours late. Two hours were over time that weren't really over time. The company counts holiday pay separately, so I have to work at least eight hours of 'over time' as straight time before the time-and-a-half goodness kicks in. Buggar all.

The last hour was 'me' time. I took my defective master cylinder into work and honed it out so the plunger would move freely. Which now it does. My head was exceptionally fuzzy, my body sore and tired from working while fighting off my cold, but I worked through it with the help of a snot soaked rag and now have a functional master cylinder for the chopper.

At least it seems functional. I'll find out for sure when I hook it all up. How addicted to my motorcycles am I? An 11 hour day to get the chopper working when it's supposed to rain? I live in a fool's paradise.

Where there's Spark there's Fire

It was a good effort today. I gave the old girl all I could for one day. In the end, I got her started. She roared beautifully. She'll go. She still won't stop. The plunger is binding in the master cylinder. I'm going to take it into work and hone it out on the precision honer we've got there.

The old drum brakes on the Ironheads are real pieces of crap. All that power to thrust you forward and a half-assed drum brake to stop you. The rear drum brake on TAZ is the same way. You have to rely almost entirely on the front disc brake. Sera didn't even used to have a front brake. Then I wore out a pair of good boots performing emergency Flintstones braking maneuvers. So she got a disc brake up front. It has never worked as well as it should have. Hopefully I can change that tomorrow.

I tend to forget what different beasts my two Ironheads are. I'd swear that Sera weighs about half what TAZ does. She also leans about twice as far to the left when on her kick stand. TAZ is LOUD. Sera generates volume and tone. Sera also has a habit of marking territory and blowing oil caps. As soon as she fired up today she took a leak on the driveway.

Motorcycle Philosophy

I am currently taking a Clymer manual break from fixing the rear brake on the chopper. I am missing two key tools right now; a case of beer and a heckler. Somehow I am managing. And man can I lube a bike. When I pulled the rear axle it was thickly coated with the good glide grease. But in the process I came upon a very interesting philosophical question.

If ass-crack is revealed, and nobody is there to see it, am I really working?

My wife assures me that since I can feel the crack of my ass slipping past the belt line, that counts as observation. I am indeed working.

Best Blotter Art EVER!

Pointing and Giggling: LED Throwies

An old room mate of mine finally found something useful on the internet. Yes, more useful than me blathering on about choppers, punk rock, anarchy, and strange work place conversations.

LED Throwies

I suddenly want to attack the old Steel Bridge here in P-town.

Have it Both Ways

Apple has invented an all-seeing screen. What do I think?

The Paranoid: I wonder if this project had government funding?

The Synic: Just when you thought internet porn couldn't get any worse!

The Futurist: It's good to see something REALLY new instead of the standard upgrades.

Over all ranking: meh.

The Value of Higher Education

Having to take the bus to work I learned something new. I guess people with Down Syndrome can attend community college. I never knew that. But this kid with Down Syndrome knew that because he was a college student. So if you get a degree from a community college, you know that at the very least you're only retarded. My AA sure makes me feel proud right now.

BTW, this kid had a killer lunch box. It was one of the old school black lunch pails like people always imagine all the construction workers carry. I had one just like it in third grade. I still have the thermos from it. A thermos and an AA, and we're both riding the bus. Like peas in a pod, brother.

I've Been Punked!

TAZ just punked me. I was running some errands when a loud PUNK came from the engine. It sputtered loudly, then stopped. What every biker should know to do in this situation:

1. Swear very loudly (I forgot to do that)
2. Engage clutch
3. Coast to the side of the road
4. Swear some more (Didn't do it. For some reason I was mellow.)
5. Park the bike
6. Start assessing the situation

A grizzled white haired man with mutton chops and a mustache driving a construction truck immediately pulled over and asked if I needed to borrow any of his tools. Knowing that a problem that sounded like PUNK would almost certainly require parts, I thanked him but said I was fairly close to home and I had all the tools I needed there. I ended up pushing TAZ a quarter mile home. My first impressions are that I blew a gasket. When kicking over there is still about the same level of engine compression, so piston rings are not likely to be the cause (not ruling it out, though). To investigate further I need to tear into the engine. Damn I wish I had a garage.

What this all means:

1. My errands didn't get run
2. I have to take the bus to work
3. To do this I have to stop by the ATM
4. To get exact change (or a close proximity thereof) I need to stop by the Kwik-E-Mart
5. The guys won't be able to talk me into going to the nudey bar after work
6. Hopefully my lovely will pick me up from work
7. Sera, the chopper, is less of a mystery so will be fixed up and put back on the road pronto
8. TAZ will be dug into and fixed ASAP

Both of these bikes are older than I am. I need to remember that and keep both of them working at all times. That way I always have a backup when one of them goes PUNK! What fascinated me was how calm I remained through the ordeal.

"Huh. That's not a good noise. Is it a random occurence? Nope. Clutch is in and I'm coasting. Anyone in the side land? There they go. Okay, get over. Blown head gasket? Blown piston rings? Whatever it was, I bet I'm pushing this bike home. Hey, the rain is picking up. Oh well."

Einstürzende Neubauten

If a person looked through my music collection they would probably assume that my favorite artists are Tool/APC, Johnny Cash, Einstürzende Neubauten, The Reverend Horton Heat, Social Distortion/Mike Ness, Dead Milkmen, Pogues, Butthole Surfers, Bill Hicks, The Pixies, Madness, and The Beatles (based on number of tracks from each). Profile THAT!

By quantity, Einstürzende Neubauten is the clear front runner. I'm talking half again as much as the runner-up with several old albums I really need to add to my collection one of these days. Which makes me think I should sign up for their fan supported project. Yet I never find myself humming one of their tunes or singing their song lyrics while riding down the road. Working in the factory I tend to live their music. For those of you unfamiliar with their work, here are some suggestions. If you enjoy your sounds on the melodic side, check out Ende Neu. For the truly brave and experimental types willing to let their ears bleed, try Zeichnungen des Patienten O.T. For a third perspective, Halber Mensch is one of my favorites with a great variety of sounds.

Shorts

Iraqis shot 'for wearing shorts'

Do you have any idea how often I have contemplated doing the same? Though I would be more likely to issue a warning telling people not to wear sweat pants.

Punk's Not Dead

While walking past a 55 gallon drum at work, the chain on my wallet caught. The weakened spot of leather surrounding the eyelet that attached the chain to my 10 year old wallet ripped away, separating the two pieces. I felt heart broken. It is so hard to find a good wallet.

I bought the wallet from St. Paul Harley-Davidson in July of 1996. It had everything I wanted including a zippered pocket, card slots, covered photo ID slot, and Multiple large slots for storing things like money, collected business cards, and insurance papers. I have yet to see a more perfect one. But after only two weeks, one of the snaps broke off. I wrote a nasty letter to Harley-Davidson telling them exactly what I thought of the quality of their product. They responded, telling me to send them the item so they could assess the damage and determine a course of action. I mailed it off and two weeks later received a brand new replacement. That wallet has been with me every day since then, traveling all over these United States via planes, trains, automobiles, trucks, and Harleys.

So at the end of my shift I took my broken wallet down to the other end of the factory where we make the big chain. I punched a hole in my wallet behind the one that had ripped out. I grabbed a one-eye (a chain link with only one rivet instead of the required two) from a mohawked operator's waste bucket and a topping tie strap from the parts bucket. Utilizing an unused inspection table, I riveted the chunk of .404 chain to my wallet. I then fed the S hook on the end of the chain through the rivetless holes at the end of the tie straps. I then showed off my handiwork to yet another mohawked worker. (Sure are a lot of us punks at work.)

My repaired wallet may not last another 10 years or I may keep it together for another 20. We'll see how this fix goes.

My leather jacket of 14 years is held together with duct tape, safety pins, metal accessories, and a generous amount of hand stitching. My wallet is now returned to service through a chunk of broken saw chain. If punk is a state of mind, then it is alive and well and still raising hell.

Mr. Positive

Subtropic warming could mean bigger deserts.

Areas such as the Mediterranean, southern Europe and the northern part of the Middle East could have a tendency toward more drought,

Dry heat stressing in France and California could lead to some of the best vintages in ages. Some of us think that could be a good thing.

Potheads say: TAX ME!

The committee to Regulate and Control Marijuana in Nevada writes Taxing Marijuana Hurts Gangs. I disagree in as much as gangs are entrepreneurial in spirit. The black market is where the money is. High risk ventures have the highest rate of return for those smart enough, strong enough, and lucky enough to pull it off. Remove marijuana (or all drugs, for that matter) from their portfolio and they will shift investments to gun smuggling, child pornography, or counterfeit designer watches. As long as it makes money. Criminalize grapefruit and watch them jump on black market citrus.

However they make a very good point.

Make no mistake -- gangs rely on profits from marijuana like movie theaters make money off $8.00 popcorn.

Damn straight! I can get popcorn for FREE at work. Granted I don't get to watch the latest Hollywood Lackluster Craptacular with it, but that could be a good thing in itself. In theory I could bring in my iBook and a DVD and watch a movie during lunch break while munching on FREE popcorn. So isn't selling it for $8 criminal? Why isn't this industry regulated? Help me Big Government! Help save me from big giant companies who want to charge me too much for something I don't need but buy anyway.

Never mind the raving lunatic in the corner. Where was I? Oh yes...

Here is another angle on pot taxation. Why would government want to tax a portion of what you spend on marijuana when they can bust into your house (no knock laws) and take everything you own if they find drugs present? Why take some when you can have it all?

Switching angles again. Don't get dizzy. Why would we want government regulating marijuana? These same people allow absolute horse shit tobacco and donkey piss beer to be sold to us. A consumer is arguably better off with a free market (albeit underground) in which they have to educate themselves. Does anyone really want the pot equivalent of 3.2 beer?

Final swivel of the camera (for today). How stoned are you that you are ASKING for more taxes?! You want to give the government MORE money? Studies show this shit is relatively harmless especially when compared to alcohol and tobacco, but your request to have your hobby taxed and regulated could be construed as an argument to the contrary.

Damn, I forgot. People don't like that whole threat of arrest and imprisonment thing. So, $120 for an ounce plus the $45 per ounce wholesaler tax (passed on to the consumer of course) for $165 plus 6.5 percent sales tax for a total of $175.73 for an ounce of midgrade pot. Don't forget packaging and handling, infrastructure, you're looking at $200 per ounce in pretty short order. Maybe more when you look at supply and demand issues. Still, best of luck to the CRCM. May they get everything they've asked for.

Has this ever happened to you?

My former supervisor asked me to handcuff her. My current supervisor was present. We were in the middle of the factory. I obliged.

Breakin' the Law! Breakin' the Law!

I broke the law tonight. I did it with full intent and knowledge that I was breaking the law. I did it right in front of four police officers.

At approximately 1:45 AM I pulled up to a red light and stopped. I waited. Just across the intersection were two police cars, lights flashing, the officers surrounding a pulled over vehicle and questioning the occupants. I waited some more. A car pulled up behind me. We waited. Several cars went through the intersection in the opposite lane of traffic. We waited. A car pulled up to the cross street of the intersection and stopped. We all still waited. A girl pulled up next to me in a little red sports car. We waited. The girl next to me gave me a questioning look with a shrug of her shoulders. I shrugged back. Kicking the bike into first gear, I looked for cross traffic and oncoming traffic. The police were still just across the way, but no other vehicles were visible. I gunned it. I twisted that throttle hard and screamed across the intersection. I don't normally do that around cops, especially that close to bar close, but I was not going to spend half a second longer in the middle of that intersection than was absolutely necessary and I was not going to wait forever for that stupid light to change. While I was pretty far away from the intersection pretty fast, a look in my mirror showed no one else following my lead.

Every rule has at least one exception.

Personal Power

You make up your own reality. Don't believe me? I've seen it. In fact I saw four examples last night.

I spent several hours trying to get a grinder not to stop every few indexes. Everything I tried resulted in what seemed like success only to have the machine start acting up when the operator came over to check it out. I did two hours of overtime and witnessed the next shift's operator running that same machine without those problems.

My partner spent the last hour and a half of his day trying to fix multiple depositing problems on an assembly machine. I checked up on him at the end of the day and witnessed these problems. Again at the shift change with a new operator, those problems magickally disappeared.

I had spent a couple of hours on a pair of assembly machines at the beginning of my shift that also had depositing problems. An operator went home sick and the person switched from his machines to the pair that was already running rather well. When the new shift came on and a new operator took over the machines I had worked on, the machines ran perfectly.

A turn-table machine for making our preset parts had a mysterious problem of leaving marks on cutters but not tie-straps. Due to the number of maintenance calls, I switched the machine to running all tie-straps and told the operator that I would look at the cutter issue when I got done with the other calls. The new shift came on and the cutter problem went away, only to be replaced with a new problem affecting both tie-straps and cutters.

You make up your own reality!

Personal Jesus

Madonna defends mock crucifixion according to the BBC. Gotta love the crucifixion imagery for getting people all worked up. How many thousands of people did the Romans execute this way? How many robbers, rapers, killers, and free thinkers were nailed to some wood and left to die? I've done the crucifixion art thing. Man do people get PISSED! They'll call you all kinds of words they wouldn't utter in their precious churches. If you're going to criticize Madonna, at least do it because she is a talentless hack, not because she knows how to stir up plubicity.

Banner Ad Fun

Found this one while perusing today.

Advice: If you look like that after losing six pounds, you were probably sexier with the extra weight. Thin is a media lie. It only looks good on centerfolds and on runways. In real life, it scares the shit out of people. Looking around the factory, twigs get almost no attention while the girls with some fleshiness about them have guys flocking around them.

This public service announcement was brought to you by the (un)Reality Council.