hallucinations

leaf chicken: 1, josh: 0

it's been a while since I peaced from the law

had a nice run this morning, silent and crisp.
saturday, so nobody out and about really.

a mile and a half in a car creeps up behind me and honks. I pay it no mind. and then again. the asshole doesn't think I heard him. wants me to get out the way. so I unsheathe our favorite finger and give him the bird.

at which point he pulls up next to me
and asks if "I wanna' try that wave again?"
he's rollin' deep. in a big ass cruiser.
a police interceptor.
mr. ossifer was, shall we say, visibly frustrated.

I give him an enormous jackal grin and keep right on keepin' on.

wonder if there were any juicier crimes he could have been fighting on such a lovely morning. ah... welcome to stockton.

reminds me of an old nike sb commercial

trick question:

why isn't getting a job
like growing a beard?

before you got here

A web of asphalt was spun over the mouth of San Francisco. Deep dark overpasses that coiled and snaked like the closely tucked tubes of an abandoned waterslide. Mysterious hyper-urban shapes. A stark and sudden transformation from the golden rolling hills of Berkeley to the grit and juggernaut of The City. A place where all things became literal, where the shells of homeless tucked into the shadows thrown by the looming Financial District. Be ready, it warned, anything can happen.

In ’89 the earth decided to give that gauntlet a shake and a face lift, inspiring the stewards of San Francisco to pull down what remained. Things got a little cleaner, a little softer. The double-decker freeway along the Embarcadero came down, bit by bit chunks of overpass were replaced by chunks of sky.

It feels different now, entering The City. The old growth is cut away and glass condos pierce the sky like flowers run wild. A cover worthy to judge this book by.

the misconceptions of a 9 year old

michael phelps is hardcore and all, but hardly as badass as john rambo.

all I need to do to get in the shape of my life is crawl around in the dirt, eat maggots, and live in a lean-to hewn from body parts of the local sheriff.
careful, don't waste any...

broken noses,

broken dreams.

I ever tell you about breaking that girl's nose in fourth grade? my dad put me in judo when I was a little kid, thought a little more aggressiveness could do me some good. sarah range was a crush of mine, she wanted me to demonstrate some of my moves. I broke her nose. accidental.

if only my pops had stuck me in gymnastics. I coulda' used a little more gymnasty in my life.

here horsie-horsie

you woke me up. I was having an inspirational dream and you woke me up. digging deep into the iner workings of my soul. why are you even awake at 9 in the morning? pewie.

In my dream I was in a rodeo, my trusty steed a was a paint,
cool as gandhi. the clowns, they were everywhere, and weren't too happy with me for some reason, the murderous clowns. they unleashed the beast, a rabid bucking bronco sent to do their bidding. it bucked and kicked, eyes wild as fire. scary, somethin' fierce, foaming and whatnot. but my paint she hung in there, and I began to realize that just because we're taking a thrashing doesn't mean we're gonna' fall off the horse.

come to pub quiz.

starting

y0.

tasty talk today, reality check and pesto. killer combination.

it's funny, we're all so spoiled. more often than not things are looking up, trick is to step back far enough to realize it. I'm listening to nina. I wonder how often she doubted herself. how often she hesitated because she was afraid. how often she got in her own way. and if she was ever proud of herself.

don't forget to make art.

guess what fenske, the happiness formula works

there's a theory going around that good things make you happier if you've gone without them for some time. it's proving true. I've been without legal wheels for almost two years now.

and while I don't have plates yet for the new cherrybomb, I'm already beating the street with the bravado that goes hand in hand with being legal.

and today I purchased "insurance" so I'm not held "liable" for any of my "booboos." SOLEGAL!

I almost drank a ladybug

instead I coughed up a throat full of leigh street malaria water

friday was filth and puddles and pushing and blood and thrill.
and rugby with some wild eyed homies who make me smile.

just like to remind the viewing audience that saying yes is scarier, but always more rewarding.

what will I add to my journey today? how will I help others journey?

say yes more often.