Tales Of A Bandit

Pushing pedals is never the same when it's not at your side.

2010-04-03T19:28:00.000-07:00

Everyday when she walked out of her job at the cookie factory, She transformed into the most beautiful rocket her roads had ever seen.Slinging a leg over the fine steel frame that had fallen into her possession by luck so dumb it must have been blessed, she slid her shoes into the clips and soared over the pavement.
The wind flowed freedom over her face, leaving the scent of sugar and shortening in her wake to cut through the poison clouds of the hot pavement and exhaust.

DEEP brown eyes a camera steadied straight ahead of her, her lips would fix themselves into a shape just like the start of thought. Her mouth pressed slightly open, the top of her tongue touched the spot where her front teeth met, a corner created by their pressing just barely too close together, pointing each other a tiny bit back.
The expression seemed intensely focused, yet there could be a million things happening at once in her mind. When friends would ride along side her, they'd be taken back when her stare, appearing so squarely forward, would capture some special fleeting detail well off to the side.

A panhandler's particular sign, stray cats loafing on the sidewalk, a drunk disrobing in daylight on sixth street.

Most folks with little millage can look like works of art, but she was altogether something else. Her posture otherwise was always relaxed and could easily turn slumping with a shift of a mood
( and to such shifts she was quite sensitive) But in the saddle, she was a warrior princess, stately and wild all at once. Hands set matter-of-fact on the hoods, legs altering between smooth, circular spin and a soaring coast, she was a creature naturally customized for flight. She had a habit of slipping behind other riders so far that they'd worry they lost her, only for them to turn their heads at the exact precipice of her attack! A slight smile bursting with triumph and pride as she way over taking them and sliding swiftly ahead.

Prehaps it was a result of the thousand things she was seeing through her seemingly still gaze, or maybe it was just the particular strain of bad luck she was so unfortunately born with, but in spite of her grace and control, she was horribly prone to accident. Car doors, bad valets, train tracks, every obstical on the road seemed to hunt her like a determined dog. Though in a fitful moments of whole health she'd half-heartedly whine "I hate my bike," the intensity of her true love would be proven exponentially every time she got hurt. She's limp out of the emergency room on medication and a bum knee, and ignore all advice just to put her feet on the pedals mere hours after injury. If the nurses knew, they'd probably get a bit more pissed about all the unpaid bills, but no matter how much her friends tried to shake their heads in scorn, their grimaces couldn't help but turn into grins as she took her beloved British companion for a roll around the neighborhood.

HAZY DRUGGED-UP DISCOMFORT GIVING WAY TO SUCH A WONDERFUL FEELING
if only for a few minutes.

Those minutes, after all, were always precious, since so many of her surroundings seemed designed soley to trap here. The stainless countertops of the tiny cookie factory offering too small of a task over too many hours, the rented bedrooms barely capable of contaning even the contents of their closet. The entire sprawling city turned small underneath the cycling satellite, of her wildfire heart. The warmth it radiated, it's glowing light, was absolutely irreplaceable to all that slipped into it's orbit, but sparkling a desire for her presence in so many people could be suffocating. She never hesitated to share the gift of her flame, but in the bottom less generosity nonetheless left her weary of being stifled or burning out. But when she was on two wheels, these worries faced while stationary simply could not catch her.

When her freedom turned so complete that she was a warrior princess every second and could fly without even moving, still she would ride, and still the ride would remain what she cherished the most. The atoms in the air blowing kisses to her cinnamon skin as they parted in the shape of her silhouette. The spectrum of light sacrificing all it's visions to the onyx embrace of her pupils. The rythyms in her cells dancing down throught her legs to her feet pounding out the beat to steel tubes singing their secret song of alchemy and transforming into wings soaring on jet streams of the soul no airplane will EVER know.

All these reactions, exploding into on another, essential and elemental as oxygen and fire...
a perfect moment of blinding brilliant beauty.

JUST JENN AND HER BICYCLE.

Written by the Professor.

Allow me to load my pistol.

2009-10-08T09:15:00.000-07:00

Apologies! Oh, how apologies are in order for not being such a frequent writer on this http. I tip my hat and bid you my sincerest apologies for sitting out recent gun fights and pedal battles. For some reason I thought having a structured outlet for writing would allow me to pound out more entries and tales but some stories are better kept in journals and traced in pen. Anyone can hammer out words on a keyboard and label it into something they desire. Right?

Well, back to the drawing board once more.

To The Regulators

For fucks sake I have a god damn mural with our logo on it, let's fill up that garage with broken bottles and laughter once more! I know we all have been hectic with school, work and life but never hesitant to phone a sister up for a quick ride to the bar for catch up.
I love every single one of you and damn proud to call you my friends.
Speaking of Regulators, our fearless leader Kevin Nadeau has some prints out.
Hit up Limit Six Sixty-Six
and sport yourself one of these fly prints! Everyone at the party will just love you and almost everyone will want to fuck you. If not for supporting a local artist at least do it for your sex life.

Promises of beefing up this blog will be followed threw. With bike prom, couples alley cat race, and tons of events it easy to see why my heart & bicycle are infatuated with the streets.

Happy Birthday John Graham Mellor.

2009-08-21T11:13:00.000-07:00

"So now I'd like to say, people can change anything they want to and that means anything in the world. People are running about following their little tracks and I am one of them. But we've all got to stop just following our own little mouse trail. People can do anything, this is something I am beginning to learn. People are out there doing bad things to each other, it's because they are being de-humanised. It's time to take the humanity back into the centre of the ring and follow that for a time. Greed really ain't going anywhere, they should have that in a big billboard across Time Square.
Without people you are nothing, that's my spiel."

This is my tribute to you, tomorrow will be a celebration of what you're words gave my life.

Deal Breaker.

2009-08-10T11:01:00.000-07:00

My leg muscles are starting to mold and shape themselves into monstrous steroidic structures.

It's gotten to the point that I'm afraid to flex or even stand-up, due to the fear of a muscle bursting out of my leg!

Well, alright lets not get that extreme but the feeling is something to be pleased about. Though, as of lately the feeling has been drenched away due to car collusions and getting stuck between metro rail tracks.

Truth being,
this bandit is feeling a bit crumbled and defective.
There is no greater ache in my heart,
then the one provided by not being able to freely jump on my own saddle.
With the annoying cramped pain shooting in my right foot to the swollen knee on the left it's difficult to take pleasure in the thing you love. This has been one of the main reasons for my lack of ability to pound out a descent entry in the past month. The punches seem to keep on rolling and after temporarily getting knocked out this weekend, and once the blood and vomit washed away the ache.
It was back to the drawing board.

What exactly fits and what needs to be erased away immediately?
The placement and storage of these things is being organized in my head daily.
Labeling and boxing away the unnecessary clutter that does nothing more but take up valuable space.
Removing the beastly weeds to allow only the beautiful things to grow.

Let's hope that I can keep a great distance from hospital rooms and x-ray technicians. Most importantly to keep my bicycle in tip-top shape. Once more, East Side Peddle Pushers won over my heart. Thanks again for getting the thing I love most back on track for me guys.
I'll be sure to spread the good word !

More Regulators, Red Bud Park,
and especially more out of town trips that involve tenting under the stars.

If you know of any great routes to take to get some fresh air, shoot them my way.

This one goes to that dude with the beard...

2009-07-24T07:44:00.000-07:00

You know the one with shit-locks in it...

.
That dude that patches your tube under freeways at one thirty in the morning...
The one that buys you helmets and brings you bread when you don't have a dollar to you're name...
He's also the one that does the best interpretation of Curtis Blow I've heard in a while.
Who reads you, childrens barn animals book while you lay in the e.r.
People tend to call him "The Professor" because he's a smart ass.

The Bandit is in such joy that twenty seven years ago your mother & father decided to do the dirty thing, side ways and freestyle.
Pushing pedals wouldn't be so fun without you by my side.

Happy Birthday Jerk Off :)

Pedaling my way into August.

2009-07-20T09:06:00.000-07:00

Bicycle Film Festival! New East Side Home!

Is the bike lane not sacred anymore?

2009-07-16T13:14:00.000-07:00

Asking myself this very question as the paramedics lifted me up on to the stretcher. It seems that cars and I have a very complicated relationship. Well, there really isn't much of complication when laying bloody, disoriented, and adrenaline rushed on the pavement.
The picture speaks for itself.

"It could have been worse" seemed to to be the phrase of the day as I made my way from the pavement, ambulance, and emergency room. Laying covered in abrasions and my head still intact made me realize just how lucky I just was. In less then a year I've been involved in a "door" accident and now a side swipe collusion with a Benz. This must be a calling from the helmet gods to get my act together and protect my precious noggin.

For those of you that don't know the full story, on my way to the good 'ol cookie factory Tuesday morning a valet driver in a Mercedes Benz
(decided that right turn signals weren't very vital to other's who share the road)
took a right into the very bike lane I was rolling straight on and next thing you know, SLAM!

If anything the whole production was more bark then bite seeing as how I did more damage to the Benz then it did to me. Must thank the Canteras for such strong thick bones! I hopped away with a pretty banged up body and a temporary scare of the roads.

I will say, the police officer that was handling my report was more than attentive in dealing & reporting the whole accident. Plus, he also mentioned how not wearing a helmet was reportedly going to be against the law soon? Does anyone have any insight on this or was he trying to scare the trick or treater from not taking unwrapped candy from strangers?

Look, Drivers! You pack more steel then my 160 body and frame provide. Signal, be aware of you're surroundings. Then I won't have to deal with going threw two insurance companies and police stations for Christ sake.

My father, who was a dedicated cyclist (as you can tell by his rad shirt below) that is until the last run in he had with a car left him for "dead" in a ditch after a horrible hit and run.
Knowing first hand how dangerous it is for cyclist he called me as soon as he heard about my run in with vehicle. His message was as follows,
"I really wish you would stop biking Jen, it's too scary out there for you and I don't want anything to happen."

Life without my bicycle would not be a life worth living, I'd rather take the chance and die on something I love then spend the rest of it missing out on that feeling of flying, of freedom. That's the risk we take daily, every second we spend pedaling. I wouldn't give that up for anything. No big bad Benz can scare me of the streets I ride.

Now to my original post some days back before car's were involved...

Alley Cat Double Down!

(Thanks a ton Chris for the photos and video!)

Prostitute cats, shot gunning watermelon flavored slurpees, Spelling tar and pit in east side playgrounds, dumping sweaty heads into buckets of water and shampoo causing temporary blindness, to pulling monopoly like cash from shirtless biking boys pants.
The photo's and videos are up and running and doing races such as this one is always a blast for those participating and volunteering.
This was our route...

View Larger Map

These are , our tails.

Bike Rant in 1, 2, 3 . . .

2009-07-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

Maybe it was due to the fact that I feel asleep and floated into yet another eleven hour dream coma listening to Bill Hick's words drift into my external auditory canal that I woke up a little cranky this morning.
It might also be due to the fact that

Kayne West seems to just love to hang out in my dreams.

It's so hard not to act reckless, but If I have one more dream where Kayne is rapping to me on my death bed I just might actually kill myself.
Rolling out of bed and trying to tame the Monchichi look I've mastered, there was a bit of aggravation this morning while riding to work.
So what better way to get rid of the road pet peeves by spewing 'em out.

Spit number one

Traffic and Misdemeanor fines for cyclist, which I do understand and respect to some certain extent but enforcing such rules and then you YOURSELF as a person of law turn your back on them. As though somehow the gun in your holster dismisses you from obeying the law's you enforce? Working downtown gives me the wonderful privilege to witness first hand how much APD loves riding all over the city sidewalks. For Christ sake an officer on two wheels almost ran into an elderly women coming around the corner this morning!

Not to mention the fact that bicyclist with no lights get a $147 fine
(come on bike ninjas get some light on those things)
But there has been more then a few occasion when I've been riding down Duval only to see numerous Police patrol cars missing one headlight. The peeve-o-meter is off the charts with the displays the Police department is setting for our lovely cycling community.

Spat Number 2

Cyclist going down the wrong one way.
The joy that seems to fill my heart when I have to avoid hitting another cyclist who chooses that going down the wrong one way would be the best route to take.
It's not, so stop doing it.
The last thing I want is to have a head on accident with another fellow cyclist.
If we expect cars to treat us with respect we should do the same and obey critical laws that concern our safety.

Number 3

The Yellow monsters of the road, I like to call them. We all have our own story or two to tell about these yellow hornets zipping threw and clipping cyclist without any concern. In my opinion, they are worse then cops. Especially when they seem to think that the "bike lane" means "cab lane". Hot headed monster's behind the wheel, and this isn't an rant on all drivers but you know who you are. Having them out there in the road is like having a postpartum mother in charge of 5 babies and giving her a huge bucket of water. It's an awful scary thought.

Phew, rant over. I can feel the road calling my name now!

"For you."

2009-06-30T08:59:00.000-07:00

On two wheels you ride.
One is your spirit, one is your style.

The sun seems to shine threw the city's abyss, Just to feel you.

Your fears and your troubles,
fall to the pavement behind you.

Worries and Pain chip away from your face
then your real beauty can breathe.

You become a Moth on a bike, riding toward life's flame.

With a Smile, You've hatched your embryonic
friends into a life of color.

For all your inspirations and sacrifices, karma promises you an eternal birthday.

You've found immortality in the minds of all you encounter.

Amnesia couldn't make me forget you.

Written: Joseph Gabriel Ramirez

(photo credit : chick on bikes)

Where mute memories start talking.

2009-06-23T07:58:00.000-07:00

Self Liberation.
We must learn to detect and reject the old content of ourselves,
How else are we suppose to move forward when the past is dangle right in front of you?

What we all try to achieve and preserve in our self worth while we pedal threw the days and await our uncertain death is to achieve what makes us blissful.

Drifting and awaking from dreams with the taste of anticipation and confidence from the brand new day. Let me stop myself right here readers, this input is simply "bicycle purposes" but today...
Today I throw you a curve ball.
How unexpected and thrilling you must be thinking.
It's as though if I'm talking to you, yes you.
Especially you.

Instead of blistering words that make no-sense, I'm going to start installing a play list that should sum up the daily altering motions threw out these days.

This play list goes out to you, my Beautiful Marine.

"So, are you doing the July Meow Ride?"

2009-06-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

He asked, as he gently placed Algar's front wheel on.

Has it come and gone so quickly already, zoom! How rapid the months seem to slip by but I do suppose the more time you spend on your bike the faster the weeks race by.

No complaints , this only means that I'm probably having too much fun and just how is that ever a bad thing?

With less than a month away it seems like only yesterday that I participated in the first
Alley Cat Race.

Time to get my claws ready and especially my preparation in which to prepare for a race
(minus the 4 hours of sleep and endless amount of coffee for breakfast)
Knowing from an outsiders perspective how god awful I looked during the whole thing it be foolish not to try a little bit harder this time. Though I might be out of luck this race Because Heather mentioned that some gambling would be involved at the check points SO it's no longer who's "The fastest" but yet who can rack up the most points. Anyone want to teach me how to deal? The after party will be at Fast Folks, 5 buck cover that will benefit
The Yellow Bike Project.

So come out Kittens, put on your cat ears and Party with Party Cat!

Now that I'm going to be representing "The Regulators" I have no choice but too,
Kevin get those patches and colors ready.

Speaking of getting on things, The Austin City Council
voted 6-0 to adopt the 2009 master bike plan. This was a great victory in the cycling community! Special thanks to who ever lead us there last week during the social ride to sign the petition.
"We do have a well written plan but now comes the hard part , ensuring all the plans actually gets done"
writes Elliot Mcfadden organizer of Austin Bike Plan petition.

Now to wait and see if our concerns and safety as commuters gets kicked into some kind of gear.
Until then...

MOUNT UP!

In case of a Tornado, Get on your bike.

2009-06-12T09:16:00.001-07:00

I must have missed school the day they enforced the safety rules of a possible tornado,

my mother must be so proud. But I will admit, it was nice to feel like Helen Hunt for a second.

"The Rules"

1. Seek shelter under a sturdy table in the basement.

2. Look/Listen for large hail, heavy rain, strong winds, and frequent intense lighting.

3. Basements is best NEVER choose up stairs locations.

4.Stay Calm.

5. Protect head, chest, face to floor, hands behind head.

My interpretation of "The Rules"

1. Get on top of a down town parking garage with a large group of aluminum and steel bikes.

2. Look, listen at all the chaos wind provides then proceed to threating god to give you more!

3. Basement is the worst place to be, try a low level bar in the red river district.
No matter what the circumstances ALWAYS follow the free beer.

4. Scream and Shout in amusement and bliss while winds sweep your fragile body around the streets.

5. Stand in a puddle of water that's located near electric outlets.

Social riding never got any better, thanks to my banana pusher and pbr provider the funk I was in was lifted.
I love you boys ;)

What's the fun of playing the game if you choose to sit on the side lines?

Give me the taste of dirt, god damn-it!

Summer is shaping out to be the best with surprising events, and guest appearances.
If you don't have plans tonight may I suggest you join in and be part of The Bandit's Tales.

Drink their beer, and donate a few bones to fix their van!

Harlem, Cruddy, and Palit.
1300 Old 19th
Show starts at 7, ends at ten.

Ride On!

Que Lindo Sueño.

2009-06-08T11:17:00.000-07:00

The day's of May just seemed to sweep away in a brilliant barbaric manner.
I some how ended up placed safely on the gentle clouds of June.
Giant's now leave batch room's empty and while blue eye's drove off in U-haul vans.

My Marine has made it home safe and thee old bandit is saving her coins to fly out of the U.S.

I apologize for my lack of typing the past month but
baby, I got a life to live!

Your doing just the same and I think you are doing it more then well.

More guitar rifts , spinning pedal's , and plenty of more hello's and goodbye's.
Plenty of seedy cafes and bars to sit in.
No more distractions from the passing by.

This should hold you over for now.
Come join me in the sun.

( Batch Giant and Blue Eyes, This play list goes out to you.)

Dear Brew Dog McCracken.

2009-05-18T13:54:00.001-07:00

There is a reason why you only got 26.8 percent of the vote.
Bringing your "Brew Crew" to restaurants and barking orders around like you own the city is probably a good reason why you are not Mayor.
If the company you keep around is a reflection of you, then you are one big asshole sir.

Hope you guys enjoyed making a cocktail waitress cry.

Fuck You.

Blooming Ride.

2009-05-15T07:56:00.000-07:00

Baked Cranberry Walnut Muffins, The finest coffee Lance Armstrong

(So this photo shoot must be the reason why he had the highest water bill in Austin)
has to offer, taco's, and breakfast pizza are slowly surfing down my esophagus to my stomach food bank storage unit and now blissfully doing back strokes in my small intestines.

Plus Mellow Johnny's handed out handful's of dietary supplements,
this one has to be my favorite...
.
Race leader after Stage 5, Tour de Georgia 2008
"I have used SportLegs for every race in the past 5
years, as I hav progressed from mountain bikes to the
Tour de France. There is no question SportLegs helps,
something very simple that works very well."
-Trent Lowe, 24, Garmin Slipstream pro cycling team

Now I'm feeling a bit on the puke side but just like a sucker I'm going to take all the free things I can receive in one day. Chipotle, put on your swimming goggles because yours about to enter the acid pool!
This year has been the first year I actually didn't wake up with a hangover, crusty eyes, or catfish mouth.
Bright and early the brown bandit bird was off to gather her worms.

It felt just like Halloween, other trick or treaters passing you along the street with expressions of joy on their faces. Quirky hello's and gentlemen tip their hat's in kind gestures.

"Top of the morning young lady"

"And to you too, kind sir."

It was almost like living in an alternate universe, where people actually do get by on their bikes. The streets were flushed away with the toxic smells of fuel exhaust and the impatience driver's provide.

There's been some quick snapped comments made with the people I interact with on a daily work related bases. Side sneers and mocks of the bike community, bitter opinions from the high polluted cities where cycling is well a mere joke to them.
"Why would I choose to bike around when I could just jump in my car?"

If they could only see the purity in our eyes and the love it gives us, our own will power. I'm not trying to shove it down your throats but when bicycling has been in my life for the past four years of course I'm going to be proud of it.

My sanity, body, and environment love me for it.

Alright, alright enough of the mush...

My friend and his pals are having their grand opening bash!

Fast Folk Cyclery!

Trick Comp, Talks of of free margarita's, DJ things.
The cookie master's finally gave me a whole weekend off!
So grab your swim suit, grab your bike, and let's let the sun ray's put some color on our flesh.
Oh, I'm having a BBQ tomorrow. Bring your own dish if you wish and of course your own "party water".
Starts early so I can have enough time to go on a long ride and finish it off with a dive in Barton Pool.

Come on, let's go!

Way to Vote.

2009-05-12T13:09:00.000-07:00

Our voice's were heard, we got the one's on our side in office.

Now I can go back to fantasizing about Chris Riley's Beautiful Teeth.

I cause noise complaints.

2009-05-12T12:47:00.000-07:00

Oh, how my delicate mind and drowsy dropping legs were pushed to their fullest capacity this weekend.

Now I can walk a little straighter without awkward wobbles and sounds of "ouch!".

On the ride to work this morning, thoughts bounced around in my head...

Now I can positively state, that there is no greater feeling than the one's pedals provide.
(Well, other then fantastic animalistic behavior's )
Saturday marked the very first female Alley Cat Race to happen in Austin and NONE of it would have gone so smoothly without Ms. Annie Gunkle
putting it all together! Thanks Annie!
As well as the following sponsors;

Car R Coffins

Black Star Bags

Girl. Bike. Dog.

Fast Folk Cyclery

The Peddler

Just to name a few for providing prizes and support, and special thanks from me to Maine Root
for supplying my parched mouth with all the lemon lime soda my heart desired! My preparation for the race was not very...well it was well planned out but the follow threw was a different story. What was suppose to be a good night's rest, a hearty breakfast, and quick jog before the event quickly turned into going to bed at five a.m & having American Spirits and black coffee instead. By any means avoid two men who want to acoustically cover a Teriyaky Boys song.
Needless to say I probably wasted any last fighting energy left in me, or so I thought.

Ms. Killiingsworth and I approached our 94 degrees destination and were warmly greeted with all the lovely faces that made it out. I can't fully express the feeling of pride seeing all those women ready to ride!
After signing in we received a brown paper bags with our spoke card, stickers, pink tire levers, and our manifest.

It was probably due to the fact that I was a space cadet and was not paying any attention to details that my route was completely a scattered mess.
So as soon as, "GO!" was pushed threw the megaphone...
(photo credit: mikesnackcat)

Off we went like three blind mice...
Or let me re-phrase that, Kayla and I were the blind folded one's.
Oh, how we ran.

View Larger Map

Just when you felt defeat breathing down your neck you'd approach a check point and the lovely men were there to greet us with silly request. After, naming all the milkshake Sandy's provides, sewing a button on your shirt, origami fortune telling (cheek kissing boys), eating a butterscotch candy with sweat dripping down your face, donut circles, duck shooting, and finally to running into the Capital to Sketch a portrait of this classy broad...

We lost a few ladies along the way, two ended up crashing (with no involvement of cars) one was sent to the hospital with chin stitches and the other wound up fracturing a metatarsal in her foot. Ouch, glad your healing up ladies. Another ended up heading to Barton Springs and Ms. Kill stuck it out but the Heat was proving to be extremely overwhelming for her.
It ended up rounding off to about sixteen miles over all, took me about an hour and thirty minutes to make it to the park and drown my self in lone stars and hugs.
The idea of it all was finishing, trying. Pushing yourself and never giving into defeat. It's easy to wave that white flag around and lay dead in your tracks.
I'd rather end up at the finish line with victory on my side!

Thanks dearly to all the lovely friend's with their kind word's of support, I love you jerks.
After downing a few brews and witnessing the side events
off for a few beer's with some good company
was next.
Till the stroke of midnight, off to the Pedestrian Bridge for the moonlight cruise.

This was my first and there is no way that I plan on missing any others. The whole ride in general was smoother than the one Mass provides, don't worry Mass I'm still going to ride you. It was nice to open and beer and not have enough time to drink it!
The sky, streets, and city was all ours.
We gained a piece of it in our hearts that night, and after having a conversation with Kevin Sunday night it was very possible that my rooster cawing was the cause of the noise complaint we received.
Sorry Austin Police Department, sometimes you need to hear how much fun we are having with our bicycles.

Still more events going on kids, grab your 2009 Bike Month Guide at your local business and keep up to date on the best day of them all...

"Get Free Tacos Cause You Ride A Bike Day!"
aka
National Bike To Work Day!

Or at least that's what I like to call it, be cool like "The King" and jump on a bike!
Also use a kid's head to sign autographs!

Bicycles and Comic Books

2009-05-01T10:28:00.000-07:00

I'm eight all over again...

pig tails, riding my bike down to the local corner store to collect cabbage pail kids cards, and my favorite blue dressed covered in mud from playing with the boys.
Why would Topps dare make this?

The first of May has quickly arrived leaving the traces of April behind.
The taste of summer is teasing us all with thoughts of swimsuits, flowers, and those wonderful sweaty bicycle rides.
This week was a much needed recovery from flu aches, exhausted mind thoughts, and black and blue legs.
All I really needed was some Monday Soul & a insightful lecture from Ms. Goodman.
Which will always be an empowering moment.
......
The Gun fight must go on!

Bang! : Women's Workshops at Yellow Bike Project

All through the Beautiful month of May they're going to be offering Women-only workshops every Saturday morning from 9:30am to 11am, at which point they'll open up for a regular shop.

What: Women’s Workshop Series at The Yellow Bike Project
When: Every Saturday in May, 9:30am – 11:00am
Where: Yellow Bike Project at Treasure City 1720 E. 12th Street

Each Saturday in May build your bike knowledge in a women only setting, and then stick around after the clinic and practice with coordinator support. Workshops are not necessarily sequential but do get more advanced each Saturday. Registration not required but space is limited. We will try to accommodate all that want to participate.

Workshop I (2nd) - Meet your bike. I.D. parts and components. Learn to patch a flat. Learn how to fit a bike.

Workshop II (9th) - Making adjustments with few or no tools: An overview of brakes and derailleurs.

Workshop III (23rd) - Brakes and shifting in-depth: Cable routing and set-up.

Workshop IV (30th) - Cups and bearings: Overhauling headsets, bottom brackets, and hubs. We'll teach wheel truing to anyone who wants to know.
Join me in learning to be independent in properly maintaining the wonderful thing you place between your legs every day! If you have any doubts, here is some importance and history what we do ladies.
I'm going to be there EVERY Saturday morning so don't be shy, join in with me. You'll have a friend there.

Boom ! : Austin Bike Zoo presents : Wheels of Wonder

If you have not had the privilege to witness with your own eyes how the bike snake operates, you definitely can not miss out on this. Austin Bike Zoo, is an inspiring the Austin community with bicycles and other alternative forms of transportation by creating unique human powered vehicles. Mi madre is coming into town on Saturday and believe that I'm going to have her on a bike riding with me.

May Full Moon Ride!

(photo credit: Birzer)
No more missing out on this ride, I've received too much feedback (shit) on my lack of attending this ride SO now I'm going to be there. I promise!
Saturday May 9th, 11:59 pm Meet on the Lamar Pedestrian Bridge, bring all your friends!

Phew, as you can tell it's going to be a growing experience, exhausting and fun Bike month!

Also, please don't forget to vote. If you've been my house you can clearly see my endorsement for city council place one.
Let the preacher, preach...!
Due to some pending, traffic tickets for some years now I figured I could not vote, or was not allowed to due to them. Thanks to Michael Litt (no wonder people love you) running Chris Riley's campaign I got registered during March's Critical Mass and received my voter's registration card in the mail yesterday. Use your voice people and show interested in your community and bike community. If it's such a part of your life, shouldn't you have some control over it?

I didn't forget...

Happy Birthday Mister Tobias Manco.

Stop reading, Get out there and make your own stories!

The Devil Wears Vodka.

2009-04-26T13:56:00.000-07:00

That dress is fitting too perfect at the moment, I'm going to slide myself into jeans and start chugging mexican dark roast instead. Jitters and shakes into self realization of life, it's pretty easy to get caught up in the advantages of living in a University city. Promises of free seem to stain the streets. So does the smell of mucus pouring from the crowds. Time out for this brown bandit!My body,brain, and heart needs a rest from these things. That seems to be the theme this season.

I'll be back very shortly, with out the sounds of twigs snapping.

Have a good week readers, and remember to keep that head up when spinning.

We live in someone else's paradise.

"Oh pretty one, how you suffer for your art."

2009-04-24T09:38:00.000-07:00

Friday's Nostalgic Song.

"You won’t be happy with me, But give me one more chance. You won’t be happy anyway.”
The Magnetic Fields, “100,000 Fireflies”

What sounds at first like a brief coda ends up extending for a full minute, laying out the bleak future of two people brought together by loneliness rather than love.

The Bandit is feeling like a puddle of brown goo, washed up sewer drainage from the rusted city pipes.
A few tell-tell signs that I'm getting older, like all the men I dated before.

Brittle, Broken, and Draining.
(no offense sir's)
I actually now understand the grumpiness.

Sudden reaction from allergies, brittle back, and washed up mind. Having a cold brings out the yuck in you.

Day dreaming has become my best friend this week and I know it's due to the fact my runny nose is blocking me from my night dreams. I've filled up my notepad with quick scheme cash ideas, to hit jingles, and my favorite idea by far this week is this ultimate breakfast...
Cranberry walnut frittata, on blue berry cornbread.
Can't wait for Sunday Brunch.
This entry is a ramble rant, I do apologize.

Here is my wrap up;

Even though I'm losing my brain at this moment by bicycle is keeping it screwed on tightly.
Befriending an Old Professor ends all the bad grades I'd been feeling.
The marriage is off, I want REAL love. The Sickly kind.

Mitch S. you are the greatest listener/friend I've ever know. Thank you for all the inspiring words, music and advice you send my way. Your feedback keeps me typing and at some points, trying.
Without you, there would be no gun for hire.
Kayla, it's been very nice to have another women down for riding around with me,
roller coaster hill bike rides!

Cold or no-cold I'm still attending mass to fill up the streets with laughter and shouts of pride!
Then to attend a pot luck with fellow female riders,
if you see me on the streets don't be shy, join in or say hi.

Keep Spinning.

2009-04-17T08:53:00.000-07:00

They all seem to sneak up on you at the right time, those little notes & doodles from months before.

Hidden reminders that you tucked away deeply, never to be seen again.
Always revealing themselves at the appropriate time.
For nostalgia sake it happens when it rains.

Maybe I should lay off 1970 Czech films that involve a thirteen year old girl having disorienting dreams in which she is seduced by priests, vampires, men and women.
Maybe if they showed this in sex education classes in Corpus, the pregnancy rate would be dramatically lower.

I know I'd think twice about kissing someone in fear of it possibly being a vampire after my menstruation blood!
I learned my lesson, Never again will I live in Santa Carla.

It's been a progressive week so far, After having a tall extended stem that was completely unnecessary on Algar for over a year now I found the right fit Monday! Due to the fact that Joseph wasn't feeling very uncomfortable with his set up on his new bike. A classic switch- a-roo was called for. We're both pedaling a whole lot happier now.
It's such a different ride & feel now, I don't know how I went on for so long with out it.
It feels nice to have a little spice to the my 'Ol British man.
Much more aggressive ride.

Speaking of Spice
Those of you that have been around me lately, have heard how I'm going to reign supreme in this event! But it will probably end with me eating dirt and getting some mean road rash, it's for a good cause. If your a lady and want to pedal for breast and babies, join! All benefits go to Mother's Milk Bank of Austin.

I'd like to take this second to thank everyone that has shown interest in this new form of outlet in my writing. There's so much more progress to be made but I finally feel like I'm expressing who I am threw this thing. And not just "The idea" of me. I've received nothing but positive feedback and much praise for the set of tit's at the top of the page. That's how they suck you in, with tits!

I now leave you with some parting words from Manny Coon.

See you out in the streets.

Monday Motivation.

2009-04-13T11:21:00.000-07:00

My Ever Changing Moods.

"I Must Create A System Or Be Enslaved By Another Man's"

2009-04-13T08:49:00.000-07:00

"People are living in things that have happened, the 60's have happened, Your parents have taken all the drugs they can take, You've had the 70's, you had heavy metal- get with it, it's over with, wake up. Kids are living in re-runs, the same crap over and over & their minds get closed tighter and tighter, it's such a waste. The same political crap, the radio IS DEAD. I think the whole thing is going to fall down to this lower level, cause I know kids are getting into it, they don't have anything else. What we have at these shows, and with these records- this is OUR battle field, this is where we will be fighting about what we're for. We don't have access to all the things people in the 60's had, we have to do it all ourselves, which means we have to get happening, we HAVE to get with it."

Guy Picciotto, Flipside #47 (1985)

I've finally got my greedy little paws on it, the book that has been mention to me for some years now. With my delayed efforts to pursue it (just as much as many things in my life) my eyes are drowning in the sea of Michael Azerrad's words.
Prying into, Our Band Could Be Your Life.

After catching up to, "Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk Rock" last summer. Following the movement to see what direction music was going to mold into around 1981-1991.

Thankfully, there is a generous neighbor that passes me questionable brownies, reserves, and literature. During our usual cigarettes-balcony discussion rants, Dinosaur Jr. was brought up. This tortured man eyes light up as he poured out his appreciation and affection for this band. He was too caught up in a fit of words that he flickered his smoke in such a panic, ran into his bedroom, and returned with the only book I needed to be in possession with at this moment.
Thank you kindly again, Max.

The lifestyle I lead at times can be questionable, in a good ways though I promise. The people in my life are just trying to get by and make the best of doing it themselves. Question everything, stand up for your believe system, and if times called for it; Out run/Out smart the cops.
The culture and life style we apply has always been DIY. There's no other way I'd rather feel the music then being in a swamp pit of arm pits and anger.
A cause for change.

The Minutemen called it "Jamming Econo."
( I'd strongly advise that you check out, We Jam Econo- The Story of The Minutemen)

"And not only could you jam econo with your band- you could jam econo on your job, in your buying habits, in your whole way of living. You could take this particular approach to music and apply it to just about anything else you wanted to. You could be beholden only to yourself and the values and people you respected. YOU could take charge of your own existence."
-Azerrad

Have you ever been free?

Romantic Pedals

2009-04-12T14:48:00.000-07:00

monstruos motorizados.

Eight thirty am, the brown warrior stretches and fights the comfort of falling back to more adventurous dreams then her daily rituals.

she rises to jump on the only man she loves...his purple sleek frame with that golden yellow that proudly displays his name.

Gently making sure he's ready for her legs, she places her self on his saddle and did the only thing she knew how to do, ride!

Threw the parks of hyde, she finds herself out of place in these parts but with him beneath her she brushes it off.

Dodging the meat heads on four wheels, turning with such sly ways down an alley way she appears.

And for that one moment, silence.

From the newly placed condos and eager drooling eyes of the animals that use jack hammers to strip away the class.

They were all gone.

Golden vibrant leaves splashed in front and kissed her face.

She was home.

That is until the brutal sound of an engine behind her started reviving it's testosterone levels.

Making sure that she was to hear their dis-taste in her ability to get where she was going with her two legs and heart.

Pay no attention young one, you belong here just as anybody else.

.....

Just you, Algar, and The Road.

We Live in Paradise

We sat with our eyes feasting on the city that we owned.

Nothing more should ever be said between the two, except the silent hissing of the wind and the stinging sensations of the sprinkler system the city controls.

pushing on the pedals.

strain...passion...a fight!

my veins are starting to pulsate with blood again, bold pumping blood.

I am starting to function, in the unremarkable way .

Image : The New York Public Library

This is a public service announcement.

2009-03-30T10:23:00.000-07:00

Let's put our hands together for yet another hostile and power hungry Austin police officer.

(Photo by Allison)
Jason Mistric, Badge 4856

We've gotten to the point now where if you do run a red light and a cop does see you and let's say he has nothing better to do, then he has the RIGHT to throw you in jail.
Never mind the ticket, your going to jail.

Does this make any sense to you?

Is Austin the New, New York?

Here's a documentary I saw months back that has a few "sign-sign" tales of what's occurring in our own city.
Still We Ride : Part One
Part Two
Three
Four

Though I think it's safe to say that maybe Mister Mistric is a bit on edge due to the fact that his first occupation as Vin Diesel's stunt double was a bust. It's been very apparent that the Austin Police Department has progressively been interested on what goes on at the last Friday of the month.
I wonder how much time and tax dollars they wasted on having helicopters spy on us as we peacefully (minus a few hot heads) ride. Speaking of which, the Austin Police Department spent $3,161,093 on fuel in 2007 and has already spent $2,874,468 this year. The logical thing would to produce this wasted money into something that would protect cyclist.

Such as Shared lane markings, colored bicycle lanes, advance stop lines, and bicycle may use full lane signs. How about putting some of that money into educational courses for drivers and cyclist?
For those of you unsure what I'm typing about it's about the incident that occurred this March Mass ride. Those who know me, it's clear on how much I love my bicycle & cycling. Also for those of you who do ride and would love to join me, let's ride!
What better time to enjoy the spring then on your beautiful bicycle?
Don't dare let their tactic to scare us from riding work

I've been meaning to post some links up to inform a few of you who ask me constantly how I'm aware of everything that goes on in the Austin Bike community.
Here are a few of my daily web search:

Austin on Two Wheels

ATXBS

Let's Take The One

Thy Neighbors' Bike

And here are a few I tend to Geek out on:

Yehuda Moon & the Kickstand Cyclery

Bike Snob NYC

And here's a little history lesson for those of you not familiar with mass.

History of Critical Mass in Austin, Texas from Simon Evans on Vimeo.
I've made it my new year's resolution to participate in every mass ride this year and so far I've yet to miss one. With this last one I'm glad I got to witness the abuse of a badge with my own eyes. I was infuriated for hours. The thought of the arbitrary abuse of power we had all witnessed with our own eyes... The feeling of helplessness overwhelmed me as i stood a mere feet away. My heart sunk and the only thing that happened was my voice shouting in confusion, "Why is he in handcuffs?!" "What did he do to be put in cuffs?!" The other joined in, in fear and concern. What were we to do?

I shudder to imagine what it feels like to be subjected to power of abuse & absurdity that infect the world.
A slap of a uniform is all it takes to allow such absurdness.
SPEAK UP!

Don't dare fear it, fight for what you know is right.
Know YOUR Rights.

Often the hearts of men and women are stirred.

2009-03-27T11:42:00.000-07:00

The burn is stinging with such ease.

The scars prove that there was something to be learned with each hiss of the iron.
Tracing steps back to it's original source.

Laying captive to it's threat.

Casual tongues tend to prance in seclusion.
Romancing the sounds is my main concern, won't you please step outside?

Welfare Bread.

2009-03-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

What recession do they speak of?
Coins have been tossed at me and around me with generous praise!
"El Bandita!, El Bandita!"

The pictures are evidence and the laughter is enough to bring a small child back to life.
Innocence was revived back in the pits of drunken summer babes.
Wide eyed and ready for the next shed of skin, feels like birth again.
Fresh, Red, and Slightly Slimy.

The stick fits.

It's taking me until this morning to finally shake off the toxin's that were doing god knows what in my body.
(Don't worry Kayla I'm still flirting with the idea of a Turd wearing a toxic shirt drinking a smoothie)
And thanks to the alter ego of "Rad Dude" thanks Robert.
A ceremony will be conducted Saturday night to burn that hat... Or just praise it for all the radical times it blessed us with.

Things I've learned to appreciate this past week:

.Me
.The strong women in my life
. Free
. Mrs. Beas, 1808 and the entire east side
.The power of tacos
.Messenger bag for having secret zippers for beer smuggling
( waterloo I'm not paying you 5 dollars for a 12oz high life & that went to every venue)

.Swedish Eyes
. The fellow who let me drown him in beer during Circle Jerks.
. Kayla throwing her bra off during Black Lips
. Drummers from Brooklyn, Drummers PERIOD.
.Always them
.My brother
.Magic Princess blow job
.hot dogs
. Goner Records
.East Side Pedal Pushers for praising me that I haven't converted Algar into fix
. Parker & All the Memphis Kids
. Knowing a bartender during Saint Patrick's day
. My will power

Living in Texas, having bar-b-q and tacos at any given time, and loving myself more than ever.

DUCK!

A bullet might graze you soon enough...

Cortejo Fúnebre.

2009-03-10T09:08:00.000-07:00

Falling asleep seems more like a chore these days than it does a privilege.
But I do suppose that's the advantages we take for granted, or at least I do. The sounds of destruction slither into my ear, "Bombers kill dozens in Iraq as fear of new violence rises." "A series of night time raids in recent months killing women and children."
While all along there I lay wrapped in the silence and contentment of my room.
Proceeding to dress, while the words of destruction have an opposite effect and seem to compose me over. Am I less human because of this? The dis-taste for the first glance of sun rays quickly changes, the only thing to do now is to embrace it. Dashing down the familiar route to get to the familiar job. But, the sirens and rumbles of motorcycles and police sirens were not familiar. They marched down with sorrow and pride in their faces, each face expressed horror.

I wanted a piece of it.

Shakes from the engines shook me an inch away from my bike and as I tried to regain balance, he rode by...

Gray hairs polluted his head. Each strand showed tales of all the lovers he racked up in his age. Oh, How those women wear you down. Who was the first one to break his heart? Who whispered "love you" as they layed in the bliss which only beds provide. His love, was now his motorcycle and as he glanced over at me. Slowly he smiled with tears in his eyes. His cracked lips blew a brittle smile my way. Raising one hand up without much thought I whispered "I love you".
That crisp mouth fell and he wishpered it back.

Tipping my bicycle to side and letting the steel hit the concrete, walking over and jumping onto his rusty motorcycle. I wrapped my hands around his fragile & broken body without selling myself short with childish words. Just holding on as we made way to the cemetery to bury another one of the things he loved.

The end of the parade was now well on it's way, the light was green and the blaring horns behind me snapped me back into reality.

Down to Brazos Street where the people must receive their treats.

Farewell Motorcade Parade.

May Use Full Lane.

2009-02-28T12:52:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't know by now, I've been involved with a distinguishing and elegant British man that goes by the name of Algar. He is not just a finished result of a production line but made in a very traditional environment - hand-made quality. With great skill and incredible patience which makes the frame distinctive and beautiful.

His name is Algar and he is English Steel that's made by Mercian. I've had my hands wrapped around this crafty purple and yellow beauty about a year ago now. Till this day I thank Burney for giving me, what is now my best friend on two wheels. All sanity would be at a complete lost if not for it, and saying that I adore it would simply be an understatement. So it's about time I put fourth some effort into my writings into the bicycling community & being fully aware of my rights, OUR rights at cyclist. What's the point of having such a love for something and not fully expressing it?

Before the shouting and aggressiveness towards vehicles, be aware. Learn, be active in your community. This is something I've tend to put off by other non-worthy distractions so it's time to buckle down and focus into the productive things in my life I love.

My heart melted this Friday like every last Friday of the month,it was that time.
Time for Mass.

It started when Miss Killworthy rolled into my place of business with a six pack of Dale's and Tupperware filled with these banana and bean baby's.

Our patience was running thin and blazing sun was causing us to grow weary, we had to get on the move!

Greeted warmly by the lovely Miss Funk, Ruth and Kevin, and the slowly but steady streaming cyclist painted in glitter and tacky beads. Yes, it was Mardi Gra's themed but sadly there was not a tit in sight! Although there were tons of hairy nipples in view, thanks gentlemen.

For those who are aware The City of Austin, via the help of the Center of Transportation Research, is conducting a research investigation of four new transportation devices to enhance safety for bicyclists. Out of the four propositions, May Use Full Lane is one of them.

Bicycles have the right to use the entire lane when traveling.

period.

This sign helps inform drivers of cyclists on the road, while reminding cyclists of their right to the road. Identify areas where this information can be most beneficial. So Kevin wanted to make this statement know with these beautiful screen prints to pass out free to fellow riders.

If your interested in wanting one of these babies, you can reach Kevin here. He pumps out his own tee's and you can find some of his things at Parts and Labour on South Congress soon. I've been wearing it with pride and can see the driver's eye darting me down, thanks Kevin.

We were graced with our own Philippe Petit, minus the twin towers and it being an inside job and all.

(photo credit/ Jose Ole's)

This was more in plain sight, on a banner string, and without the involvement of cops. No, no the cops involvement will come into play soon enough. But the sight of the "tight-rope walker" got everyone jazzed for what was next, Ride!

I wished more than anything that I had a keyboard at my finger tips because there is no possible way for me to bring back all the sincere words and experiences I had Friday night. So there is no point in me even trying to butcher it up, everyone who was there to share it will remember it very fondly.

From dodging cops by rolling down a one way, to witnessing a blue collar fifty year old turning beat red in the face yelling his disapproval of our actions. From chicken blizzards to ending it all with Miss Kill at Mugshots.

The weariness of my heart got drilled off and the Austin night sky was mine, I don't wish to take advantage of that anymore.

And believe me I won't.

If Jason really takes my suggestion into consideration then it looks like we are going grab our suits and throw on some sunblock, surf's up!

A time for silience...

2009-02-23T12:41:00.000-08:00

And some much needed seclusion. I don't think it would be a very wise decision to spew out the venom at this moment. We all understand that there are stages we must go threw after the first sting; the identification, symptoms, treatment, healing, and prevention.

I think (or hope) I passed the foaming at the mouth stage and now settled into the recovery part which includes the treatment of Indian pale ale, too many cigarettes, and shying away from any to all social shenanigans because I just don't have the tolerance to try at this moment.

Looking into your eyes and lying about my progress brought me back the the venom stages, it spread and did the damage again.

I have four months to decided whether running away would be productive or sticking it out would be better in the long run.

Without the conversation or input of the best friend I once had but lost and the conversations that are carried on with the ones I have just don't seem to matter anymore.
It's going to be something to conquer and climb, I just hope I don't tumble down.

See you on the other side?

Goodbye Texas ?

2009-02-19T11:06:00.000-08:00

I'm very impulsive, I'm that child in the family.
But the timing seems right.

Black History Month Celebration with Sounds!

2009-02-04T11:02:00.000-08:00

May I present a collection of Artist that just don't go celebrated in just the month of February my friend. As long as my heart is beating, it's from the help from the following below.
Sit back and enjoy, the sounds of psychedelic,blues, funk, and soul.

give your ears a treat, and enjoy something real.

Sly & the Family Stone.

Charles Mingus-Flowers for a lady

John Lee Hooker- It serves my right to suffer

The Soul Clan- That's how it Feels

Sarah Vaughan- You're not the kind

Arthur Lee and Love- I'm with you

If you hate the smell of cookie dough, then we simply can not be friends.

2009-02-04T08:43:00.000-08:00

Excuse me while I polish my pistol and give me a moment to grab my pen, or shall we say ahem... keyboard? I've jumped in line with the rest of the frantic herd and flocked on other to the other side of the web. It seems that they enjoy the incredible shade and the crystal clear water. They say it's amazing! I just hope that there is not branding involved this time because I'm trying to recover from the last one.

A tiny leap into to some sort of direction that could only be a bit more productive. As far as the structure or what I'm really trying to get out of this http is unknown. So why not keep it that way? If anything this seems like a graduation from silly observations from society to something a little bit more definite. Something you could show your grandchildren and prance threw and celebrate my words!
Or maybe, something to read when your tired of jerking off and or melting your eyes off with all the cuteness cuteoverload.com can give you.

So please feel free to waste your precocious seconds with my words, you'll kind of be glad that you did. I won't dare give too much away of who you will be reading from but let's just say it will be worth something...someday.

Tales of tunes, bicycle's, starvation, to the complexes of women crying when told they have "Big Boobies", tacos, and even tales of awkward run ins with ex sexual encounters at the grocery store. Disclaimer; to those of you that are in my daily life now is the time not to be shy for as you see you are only a character in the chapter of this time.

This is...
The saga of jenny.