i have been busy. i drive around a lot and do my best to make people happy (or at least not mad), and i dont get hair cuts (that is turning out to be a big problem, my hair looks terrible (and by that i mean more terrible than usual)). and most of all i try to keep DC HQ at bay. i promise posts, and crappy poetry, i keep saying "big john, please dont threaten to beat me up agian, i will post, but im really busy, really, the beer factory wants me to work in exchange for their money, they just dont pay me to drive around and get loaded and see strippers, and art exhibits (true story, i really did see me some art), there is work involved".
in big john's last email to yours truly he threatened to write me off completely. he said "pineapple, im not, not paying you to sit in a truck all day, driving around to new and exotic locals and throwing big parties and getting drunk in your free time, while you meet interesting people and eat lunch with them. i am in fact, not paying you to sit in scabies infested hotel room and write, god dammit. i need you to take your meager beer factory earnings and spend them on gin, and write stupid things that people dont even like, or read. this is yor last chance." and when he typed last chance i think he was serious, this guy has a lot of power, and a lot of sharp stuff, like knives, and pens, and other stuff to sharp to name.
and to add to big johns irrational outrage, i also just received a tm (and by tm i mean text message for those that lack the techno-savvy skills that i very much possess) from BGR and he told me that my quest for mountain bike grip superiority (and by mountain bike grip superiority i mean the sheer quantity of mountain bike grips present on one's mountain bike handle bars) has been thwarted by guess who? fucking big gay randy, god dammit. BGR himself has taken to putting even more grips than me (1.75 grips per side of handle bar is the standard that i have been running) on his new bike. he is now running something super fucked up, like 3.5 grips per side, that hit me like a spoon to the heart, and i mean like threw the ribs and directly into the heart, death blow kind of shit, all because he hates me, not because his hands are huge or he likes several places to rest his weird looking gnarled knuckles, its because he hates me.
so i am writing this post for two reasons: reason 1- big john will stop yelling at me, and 2: to call out BGR in a cage match of oury grips, who can get the most grips on a bicycle. its lucky im not in flag right now, becuase i think he bought up every pair of grips in the whole town.
heed my call people, there will be blood (and pictures).
ps, john i swear i will have a poem up thursday, seriously.