Two things:
- Pull up your underwear.
- Get the cash envelope in advance, cuz we all know you’re looking for another payday.
Full circle
I’ve been living in a small college town in southern Ontario for almost a decade. It has everything I need, and then some. I sold the bagger, knowing I was content and happily ensconced. From a successful career in aviation, and another lifetime of riding, I’ve garnered enough material to keep me happily clacking away on that typewriter thing forever and a day. Anonymous fiction, of course.
Because reasons.
My aviation life was spent in the deserts of Africa. I have flown in the Canadian bush as a fire pilot. I’ve been a mountain and an arctic pilot. I managed to stay away from the jungle. Because more reasons.
As a biker, I was an Independent. I traveled highway and byway and the old blue highways from Canada to Mexico and places in between. I loved every precious minute of it all, even when, well, that’s for me to know and others to read about.
As to my writing, on average, I get around 12,000 downloads a year, every year. My biggest kick was seeing 60 down in Kazakhstan last year. Normally, it’s only ten or so in that bleak wilderness. I do POD sales as well, courtesy of Ingram Spark and Amazon.
Switching gears, my last bicycle was a red and white CCM 3-speed from Simpsons-Sears. I think I might have been 12, or thereabouts.
I remember my old man putting that thing together, not fast enough for my liking. Finally, off I went. The bike wasn’t anything too fancy – as best I can recall. Hitting the binders required one to stand on the aft pedal and push down hard.
So what’s next, I asked myself, because with me, there is always a next.
Answered, I replied, to no one in particular. I like it that way.
The bagger has been replaced!
COSTCO came up with a sweet deal on a CC50 e-bike. No surprise that I couldn’t resist or refuse. Of course, I needed a helmet. Chain lube. A pump. A sizeable hard bag to sit on top of that rack. Some sweet panniers, too. And an alarm. I dug out my leather gloves and a couple of old Slippy Brim helmet liners. Some faded bandanas.
That CCM bicycle was my first taste of freedom. As I got older, I tasted more, and more. And now, I have come full circle. I am still tasting, though. I will never give that up.
And I thought- oops, someone at my door…
Oh, drat. It’s three families of migrants. Excuse me whilst I shepherd them past that sieve known as America’s undefended border with those socialist Canadians. To make the foreigners even more welcome where they’re going, I’ve provided free firearms, courtesy of the citizens of Toronto, where there appears to be an abundance.
Can someone let MTG, otherwise known as Marjorie-something-or-other, know they’re on their way? I’m pretty certain she’d want to know about this flagrant border violation. Perhaps she can tear herself away from some gun shop in Georgia long enough to make another concerned video for the ignorant masses of you-know-where.
I’ll be right back…
Dammit. There were so many vehicles filled with migrants being driven across that undefended border by Canadians that I gave up. I’m going to swim with them across Lake Ontario. Catch ya later, gator, after I take a yuge breath.
King Charles, pro and con
Pro side of King and Country
- British weather
- Bad teeth for everyone, in perpetuity, and, finally,
- A desire to be Camilla’s tampon
- There are more, but I might digress.
Con side of the Kingdom
- California weather
- Good teeth
- An actual personality
- The attractive side of the family
- Possibly sired by the British Army
- Hated by an entire nation and its news media, thanks to King and Country (see above).
The Trip (I onde dager)
* * * SPOILER ALERT * * *
Noomi Rapace and hubby want a little away time at the cottage. Unfortunately for both, that’s not all they want for each other. While Roy, Petter, and Dave have a hankering for some of that same cottage ambiance, they have no idea what’s in store as mayhem and madness ensue.
Dirty Grandpa
* * * SPOILER ALERT * * *
Aubrey Plaza. Robert De Niro.
“I want you to tear open my bra like it’s a Social Security check.”
So…
in light of clownfish’s possession of state secrets, and his inclinations regarding same, might anyone have a FISA warrant on the orange cheeto and his current minions?
I’m wondering where the fam will flee go on an extended vaycay once they pull their heads out of the old man’s ass and realize they’re done for. Argentina? Saudi Arabia? Certainly not with the Russkis, right? Right?
But perhaps I discount the pigs in the pen too soon. We have all been fooled before.