YOU WOKE UP MY NEIGHBOURHOOD

Twenty years ago I was sleeping the afternoon away, at fifteen this is what you do. I awoke to a banging on the bedroom window. Thinking it was a friend instigating some skateboarding I dismissed it with a wave of the hand. The insistent noise did not quit.

I found myself seeking coverage with my dog in a doorway only later to discover that it had no frame, it went straight to the ceiling. It was not the first time something was alerting my attention to my lack of.

The pics below were gleaned from the Chronicle, they are of the neighborhood my grandmother grew up in. They are also of an area we service a lot of customers inside the buildings. This is one of the reasons I run in with empty cans and run out with full ones. No need for extra trips.

BIKE CULTURE IN THE TRASH

Found this clip while answering one of Bike Snob NYC's quizes:



There is nothing quite like trash and cycling mixed together.
So much of it these days:

















Case in point, Campy Record laced to Araya rims leaning against a trash can for pick up on Treasure Island.

Just brings me one hundred or so dollars closer to being a big dummy.

Pretty soon I will show you my sword.
Shit ye not.