so now it's march. finally. i couldn't be more sick of cold weather if, well, i just couldn't be more sick of it. this is also the mud season here in illinois, which has it's pro's and con's. Pro's include 4 wheeling on muddy backroads in trucks and on 4 wheelers. Con's include everything else. such as: my heels get stuck in the yard. my car is a constant filthy mess. if you happen to fall down, well, you either roll with it or go home to change. you can't keep the house clean due to the fact of animals, large and small, in and out of the house. it's dreary looking outside. BUT IT'S GETTING WARMER.
looking out my bay window right now, it looks like it's balls cold outside. but it's not! it's about 60 damn degrees. too bad it's so shitty out. it'd be a great day to actually do something.
another thing i wanted to talk about is my love of small towns. i'm by no means a city girl. the only time i venture into the big city, a.k.a peoria, is to either go to the hellhole known as walmart, or to tan, get my hair done, or shop. or eat. or whatever, it's not all that often. i could never in a million years live there. my town consists of about 1700 people. that's borderline too damn big for me. anyway, the town i'm mostly in has about 700 people. that's more like it. one of the reason's i love this town is the lack of cops. you can get into a drunken fight with some idiot, outside the bar, at 1 am, and everyone goes home after like it never happened. in a city, the damn mob squad would be there, complete with shields and pepper ball guns. ah, we have some good times out here in our rural paradise. and minus the muddy backroads when i don't want to get muddy, i wouldn't trade it for the world.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
a sad day for fmx, the mulisha, and numerous others.
i'm in a not so good mood today. a beautiful man is no longer on this earth and i'm really sad about it. you've probably already heard that jeremy lusk, a pro freestyle motocross rider, crashed terribly over the weekend in costa rica, and sadly, succumbed to his injuries last night at 11:03, costa rica time. i had high hopes he'd pull through it. i'm sure he's tearing up heaven on that bike of his as we speak. rest in peace, lusk. you'll be missed for as long as the rest of us are here, until we see you again. 11/26/84 - 2/9/09.
Monday, February 9, 2009
dirt bikes, bb guns, and doorknobs
let me start out by saying that i don't ride things that don't have four wheels. i love, love, love the guys that rock the dirt bikes. but i just have bad luck with all two wheel modes of transportation. anyway, on to the story.
i was, oh, about 15 or so. my little brother had a yamaha ttr...think it was a 90? i don't remember. he was like 10 so it wasn't a big bike. it was during the summer, the p's were gone to work and i was supposed to be watching my brother. well, the boy i had a huge crush on was over at my house, so needless to say, my brother was not who i was watching.
i think i had gone out to the kitchen for a drink, and noticed that we now had a flat track in our backyard. it hadn't been there earlier.
oh shit. the people that own this house are gonna be pissed.
they were. well, not my dad. he thought it was cool. my mom was the irate one.
anyway, i flew out the door and yelled "what in the fuck are you doing?" at my brother. oh, don't worry. the neighbors loved us. not. he simply replied he made a track in the yard.
yeah. obviously.
by then, i'd also come up with a great idea. i was gonna ride that bitch. on the new track. and i did. not very well. i'm positive i didn't go faster than 3 mph. and i don't think both feet were ever on the pegs at the same time. but i did it dammit.
i'll spare you the gory details of the time the bike was ridden through the neighborhood at 3 am. or when my brother shot me with a bb gun. or the time he caught the computer on fire...and blamed it on the cat.
we had a hell of a time growing up unsupervised. still do, according to numerous pictures that i don't remember and mysterious injuries every saturday and sunday morning.
i'll tell one more story and then i'm off to bed. i need to be well rested. i have a pedicure tomorrow and i'd hate to not get enough sleep for that event. it's tiring trying to have a conversation with a guy from vietnam as he's rubbing my feet and talking in his language to the other shop employees. ok. on to the last story of the day. it'll be a good one.
when i was 19 i dated this guy for two months until he dumped me on my birthday after cheating on me with every girl he could get his hands on. he's cool though. i started running around with him again sometime in november. why, you ask. well, because we always seem to have a hell of a time together when we're not around any other people that either one of us "know". he's a good dude, really. just makes some bad decisions. kinda like me. huh...i'm starting to see a pattern.
one of the last times we went out boozing together, we were heading to another bar in his little piece of crap truck. on a road we've driven down 400 times, we crash. don't worry, we were not drunk yet...no drinking and driving here. we're good. but it wasn't like we hit a guardrail. or a squirrel or anything like that. no. we, well, he, drives off a curve into the woods, and down into a freaking 20 foot ravine. after making sure me and my new coach purse were ok, he gets out to survey the damage...and comes back laughing his cute little ass off. i asked what in the hell could possibly be so funny. he tells me to get out of the truck and look. which i would have if my door wouldn't have been buried in the snow against 500 mini trees. i knew we were sitting at an angle, i just didn't realize how big of an angle it was. after he pulls my ass out of the truck, i see why he was laughing. both back wheels are 5 feet off the ground. don't ask me how it happened, i have no clue. so, two phone calls later, we're back on our way to town. after we went and got my car, of course.
we made it to town, where he proceded to get absolutely shit canned. and i'm just getting pissed. i'm not sure what exactly happened, but he decides he wants to kill this kid that he hates. it involved a set up and a baseball bat like 4 years ago, and he's still pissed. after me and the rest of the bar talk him out of it, he attempts to go outside and call god knows who. but he rips the doorknob off the door. no one saw, and his friend and i try to just set the doorknob back on the door, hoping no one will notice. just as the song playing on the jukebox ends, the doorknob falls back off and everyone looks over to me and said friend. we smile. i now own that doorknob. it's on my end table as we speak. boys. i tell ya.
i was, oh, about 15 or so. my little brother had a yamaha ttr...think it was a 90? i don't remember. he was like 10 so it wasn't a big bike. it was during the summer, the p's were gone to work and i was supposed to be watching my brother. well, the boy i had a huge crush on was over at my house, so needless to say, my brother was not who i was watching.
i think i had gone out to the kitchen for a drink, and noticed that we now had a flat track in our backyard. it hadn't been there earlier.
oh shit. the people that own this house are gonna be pissed.
they were. well, not my dad. he thought it was cool. my mom was the irate one.
anyway, i flew out the door and yelled "what in the fuck are you doing?" at my brother. oh, don't worry. the neighbors loved us. not. he simply replied he made a track in the yard.
yeah. obviously.
by then, i'd also come up with a great idea. i was gonna ride that bitch. on the new track. and i did. not very well. i'm positive i didn't go faster than 3 mph. and i don't think both feet were ever on the pegs at the same time. but i did it dammit.
i'll spare you the gory details of the time the bike was ridden through the neighborhood at 3 am. or when my brother shot me with a bb gun. or the time he caught the computer on fire...and blamed it on the cat.
we had a hell of a time growing up unsupervised. still do, according to numerous pictures that i don't remember and mysterious injuries every saturday and sunday morning.
i'll tell one more story and then i'm off to bed. i need to be well rested. i have a pedicure tomorrow and i'd hate to not get enough sleep for that event. it's tiring trying to have a conversation with a guy from vietnam as he's rubbing my feet and talking in his language to the other shop employees. ok. on to the last story of the day. it'll be a good one.
when i was 19 i dated this guy for two months until he dumped me on my birthday after cheating on me with every girl he could get his hands on. he's cool though. i started running around with him again sometime in november. why, you ask. well, because we always seem to have a hell of a time together when we're not around any other people that either one of us "know". he's a good dude, really. just makes some bad decisions. kinda like me. huh...i'm starting to see a pattern.
one of the last times we went out boozing together, we were heading to another bar in his little piece of crap truck. on a road we've driven down 400 times, we crash. don't worry, we were not drunk yet...no drinking and driving here. we're good. but it wasn't like we hit a guardrail. or a squirrel or anything like that. no. we, well, he, drives off a curve into the woods, and down into a freaking 20 foot ravine. after making sure me and my new coach purse were ok, he gets out to survey the damage...and comes back laughing his cute little ass off. i asked what in the hell could possibly be so funny. he tells me to get out of the truck and look. which i would have if my door wouldn't have been buried in the snow against 500 mini trees. i knew we were sitting at an angle, i just didn't realize how big of an angle it was. after he pulls my ass out of the truck, i see why he was laughing. both back wheels are 5 feet off the ground. don't ask me how it happened, i have no clue. so, two phone calls later, we're back on our way to town. after we went and got my car, of course.
we made it to town, where he proceded to get absolutely shit canned. and i'm just getting pissed. i'm not sure what exactly happened, but he decides he wants to kill this kid that he hates. it involved a set up and a baseball bat like 4 years ago, and he's still pissed. after me and the rest of the bar talk him out of it, he attempts to go outside and call god knows who. but he rips the doorknob off the door. no one saw, and his friend and i try to just set the doorknob back on the door, hoping no one will notice. just as the song playing on the jukebox ends, the doorknob falls back off and everyone looks over to me and said friend. we smile. i now own that doorknob. it's on my end table as we speak. boys. i tell ya.
weekend injuries part 1
so. this is the absolute first time i've ever in my life blogged. not sure what the "rules" are, but i'll give it a whirl.
it's recently come to my attention that i'm somewhat of a klutz. ok, not that recently. i've known for awhile now. take, for example, friday night. it was decently warm. for february in illinois at least. i started drinking pretty early with my girls and basically forgot to eat supper. you can see where this is heading. it got to be pretty late. i was roadtripping with 2 friends, one whom was passed out in the backseat of my car. bad, bad girls, i know. i got the super awesome idea to go check out this abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. i've been in the damn thing 500 times over the years, but for some reason, it still excites the hell out of me. it's still stable, so i bounced my drunken self up on the porch and went in. yep, looks the same as it did two weeks ago.
fast forward approximatly 3 minutes. i'm now on the ground next to the porch. yes, i walked right off the end of it.
in the morning i was confused as to why: 1.) my ankle hurt so bad and 2.) where the huge bruise on my knee came from. i figured it out after rehashing the night with my peeps.
so maybe it's not that i'm a klutz...maybe i'm just a drunk. what a mystery. we'll never know.
it's recently come to my attention that i'm somewhat of a klutz. ok, not that recently. i've known for awhile now. take, for example, friday night. it was decently warm. for february in illinois at least. i started drinking pretty early with my girls and basically forgot to eat supper. you can see where this is heading. it got to be pretty late. i was roadtripping with 2 friends, one whom was passed out in the backseat of my car. bad, bad girls, i know. i got the super awesome idea to go check out this abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. i've been in the damn thing 500 times over the years, but for some reason, it still excites the hell out of me. it's still stable, so i bounced my drunken self up on the porch and went in. yep, looks the same as it did two weeks ago.
fast forward approximatly 3 minutes. i'm now on the ground next to the porch. yes, i walked right off the end of it.
in the morning i was confused as to why: 1.) my ankle hurt so bad and 2.) where the huge bruise on my knee came from. i figured it out after rehashing the night with my peeps.
so maybe it's not that i'm a klutz...maybe i'm just a drunk. what a mystery. we'll never know.
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