Saturday 28 December 2013

Tuesday 24 December 2013

MY WARMEST WISHES TO EVERYONE FOR A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS, OR WHATEVER YOU'RE INTO CALLING IT . . . . IF YOU'RE OUT AND ABOUT ON THE HIGHWAYS AND BI-WAYS ON TWO WHEELS, PLEASE TAKE IT EASY, BE SAFE AND WATCH OUT FOR KOOKS . . . . SPECIAL YULETIDE WISHES TO THE DISCERNING PSYCHOTICS GUILD . . . . BE GROOVY PEOPLES, LOVE ON !!!

CAME ACROSS A RED HEADED STEP-CHILD DOPPLEGANGER OF PROJECT SHOVELLER YESTERDAY ON ARSEBOOK . . . . THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY COOL, NOT FOR LONG THOUGH . . . . THE MUCH GABBED ABOUT, LITTLE ACTUAL ACTION, RECONFIGURING STARTS IN THE NEW YEAR, YEAH !!!

CH - CH - CH - CH - CH - CHANGES . . . . NOT SO FAST, WE'RE NOT ABOUT THAT SHIT ROUND HERE !!!

FOR ALL THE SHIT THAT I PUT ON THE OLD HOGGLY-DAVIDSONS, THEIR HERITAGE, AND THE STEADFAST REFUSAL TO EMBRACE MODERN TECHNOLOGY FOR SO LONG IS AN INTRINSIC PART OF THE ALLURE TO ANYONE WHO CONTEMPLATES WHY THEY ARE SO DRAWN TO THE THINGS . . . . EVEN THOUGH MY FXE IS A '74 BUILD AND THE RED ONE IS FROM THE LAST OF THE LINE '83, THE LACK OF DIFFERENCE IS THE MOST REMARKABLE POINT OF INTEREST FOR ME . . . . THE MERE FACT H-D IS STILL FUCKING ABOUT WITH THE MOST PRIMITIVE MOTOR CONFIGURATION IN TWO WHEELED HISTORY, THE VENERABLE 45 DEGREE V-TWIN, IS A BADGE OF HONOUR I'LL DEFEND TO THE DEATH . . . . BACK FROM THE FUTURE.

Monday 23 December 2013

DARKNESS ON A HEDGE IN TOWN, THIS AIN'T THE JERSEY SHORE, THIS IS SOMEWHERE ELSE ENTIRELY . . . . I LOVE RIDING AT NIGHT, THE SENSE OF SEPARATION FROM THE WORLD SEEMS FURTHER ELEVATED . . . . CARS ARE SEEMINGLY UNMANNED DROOG TRANSPORTERS, FERRYING UNSEEN PERSONS TO UNKNOWN DESTINATIONS . . . . IS THERE ANYONE IN THERE AT ALL ???

SUNBURN DON'T MEAN A THING . . . . TODAY WAS A GOOD DAY

The nocturnal ride was bloody sublime, night time is the right time, mounted astride the Purple Penis, over the Glumdale Bridge and head south along the Gold Coast Highway, plenty of cops, but not a hassle to be had . . . . the sting of the day's heat had been replaced by the balmy cool of a most splendid evening as I burbled along at the speed limit, just to prove to myself that I can, the bike is loving the cool of the night air . . . . a ciggy and a Coke, in a glass bottle of course, at Caltex Burleigh, then back on Starship Phallus and down to Coolangatta, even the usually boisterous public bar at the Cooly Hotel was tranquility made manifest . . . . over the Tweed River and turn back onto the main vein and head up the back highway for home, fully on the fucking pin, a gentle forty to fifty klms above the posted speed limit, oops, sorry about that chief, missed it by that much . . . . bugger all traffic, adrenalin racing, eyes wide open and scanning the shoulder up ahead, in just over fifteen minutes I'm turning off the ignition and coasting considerately into the driveway . . . . kick out the skirtster's stand, give it some love in the form of a thorough wipe down with the polish cloth, I sit and have a fag while listening to the motor and pipes ticking as it cools . . . . did I ever mention just how much I love motorcycles . . . . even Harleys . . . . and speed . . . . shhhhhhhh . . . . don't tell.

Sunday 22 December 2013

IT'S HOT ENOUGH TO BOIL A MONKEY'S BUM YOUR MAJESTY . . . . IT'S STINKING HOT IN THE GODZONE . . . . HOT TOWN, SUMMER IN THE CITY, BACK OF MY NECK IS DIRTY AND SWEATY.

"COULDN'T STAND THE WEATHER" . . . . STEVIE RAY VAUGHAN . . . . BUT I LOVE IT ANYWAY

What a cracking Gold Coast day, on the road at six for the 'early', out through Canungra and loop back around into Beenleigh, down the M1 and home just after eight . . . . ojay, coffee and several cigs, bundle my eighty eight year old mum off to convene with her God, then mount the Penis Mobile yet again, forgetting the essential anti burn lotion . . . . top up the guzzaline and straight down the back highway, splitting lanes and taking aim for Kingscliff, back up the highway and in via Sufferers Palestine for a coffee and a chinotto at Vain Beach . . . . checking out the yooman zoo from my solo vantage point, ferk, takes all kinds I guess, but I never wanted to be anything like the type found here, as much as they never wanted to be somebody like me . . . . anywho, a great day and now the sun's sinking slowly in the west, it's time for one last fling, I'll get back to you . . . . Forever Two Wheels !!!
 BLUE SKIES, SMILIN' AT ME . . . . VAIN BEACH, NICE TO VISIT, THEN GET THE FUCK OUT
 THE PURPLE PENIS, YEP, JUST ANOTHER MODIFIED SKIRTSTER . . . . AND LOVING IT
I CAN'T SCRAPE WHAT'S NOT THERE . . . . RUST NEVER SLEEPS, FRESH FROM LAST NIGHT'S WASH

Saturday 21 December 2013

FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN, RUN BOY, RUN . . . . THE LATEST ARRIVAL AT THE COMPOUND ON THE MOUNTAIN, A ROUGH BUT LOVELY AND COMPLETE '67 FAIRLANE GT . . . . ARMED TO THE BACK TEETH WITH A VERY TIGHT AND TOUGH 390 FAT BLOCK, IT'S DUE FOR A COMPLETE REFURB AND GENERAL GOING OVER . . . . RAZOR SHARP PANELS ON THESE ARE ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL.

Always, always had a major hard-on for the two door Fairlane, clean, crisp and super sharp lines that were about the sweetest of the era, did great guns on the Nascar circuit of the time, multiple engine options and cheap as chips relative to the day as well . . . . Chook's and my mate's just had this one delivered from some like minded mountain maniacs in Tennessee, straight to the hillside retreat for the impending reconstruction process, bloody good starting point, straight body, solid interior and one very tough, nicely sorted, bored out 390 big block, perfect Christmas twiddling fair. Pay no mind to the ridiculous offset on the rear rollers, it's all gonna change shortly . . . . well, as soon as the El Rancho and the '67 Mustang are done and dusted . . . .

THE FATHER OF THE FUEL INJECTION SYSTEM THAT BEARS HIS NAME HAS MOVED ON TO THE DRY LAKE IN THE SKY . . . . HIS GENIUS WILL BE FOREVER RESPECTED AND INFLUENTIAL IN THE PERFORMANCE AUTOMOTIVE WORLD . . . . MAKING FAST FASTER SINCE 1948, R.I.P STU HILBORN

Thursday 19 December 2013

GET THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN INSIDE, LOCK UP THE CAT, HIDE THE GARDEN HOSE . . . . THE 'SONS OF BUMFORD' .005% M.C ARE COMIN' TO GET YA CAMPBELL NO-MAN . . . . YOU AND YOUR DRACONIAN 'VLAD' LAWS . . . . LOOK OUT YOU WANKER, WE'RE THE CHEESY RIDERS !!!

JUST AS THE GOOD DR GONZO WROTE, "WHEN THE GOING GETS WEIRD, THE WEIRD TURN PRO"
QUEENSLAND . . . . JUST LIKE HITLER'S NAZI'S . . . . ONLY WITHOUT THE COOL UNIFORMS

THE BEASTIES ON 'LETTERMAN' 1992 . . . . SUCH A FUCKING INTENSELY URGENT PERFORMANCE, ONE OF THE GREATEST FILMED LIVE GIGS OF THEIR CAREER IN MY OPINION . . . . EVEN SHAFFER AND THE HOUSE BAND ARE HOOKING IN . . . . I RECKON THEY BLEW THEMSELVES AWAY TOO.

Never underestimate the crucial significance of these Brooklyn boys on all that is the landscape of contemporary music, they were breaking ground that people didn't even realise existed until their arrival on the scene. By the time "Check Your Head" hit the shelves even the doubters and the straights knew that something was definitely upski . . . . this wee snippet of the time rams home just how fucking extraordinary they were, getting their freak on with some of the finest musos in the country and rising not only to the occasion but rising miles above it, yep, massively cool.

STILLS FROM ONE OF MY ALL TIME FILMS "THE WAR LOVER" . . . . STEVE McQUEEN AND 'THE BODY', NEVER WAS THERE SUCH A PRESCIENT ILLUSTRATION OF A MAN AND HIS LOVE OF HIS MACHINE . . . . THE MAN, THE BASINGBORN BEAT-UP AND THE RIGHT PROFILE, McCOOL !!!

A COUPLE OF SHOTS OF THE BONNIE FROM THE ZOO BOY-G COLLECTION . . . . SITTING OUT FRONT OF HIS PLACE IN 1991 ABOUT A YEAR AFTER I GOT IT . . . . I'D ALREADY HAD A '69 T120 AND IT WAS TECHNICALLY AND HISTORICALLY THE BETTER BIKE . . . . HOWEVER IT WAS THIS '74 T140V THAT BECAME MY MOST LOVED BIKE AND I REGRET FLICKING IT EVERY TIME I SEE ONE.

TRIUMPH AND THE REST OF THE POMMY BIKE INDUSTRY WAS WELL ON THEIR KNEES BY 1970, THE NVT CAPER WAS AN UNMITIGATED FUCK UP AND THE JAPPY BIKES WERE RULING THE ROOST, BY THE END OF THE SEVENTIES IT WAS ALL OVER BAR THE SHITTY HARRIS VERSIONS AND HIGH GRADE INDIAN SWARF IN THE CRANKCASES . . . . THERE'S NOT MUCH ARGUMENT THAT THE '69/'70 T120's WERE A PINNACLE MODEL OF THE EDWARD TURNER DESIGNED PARALLEL TWIN, THE SIX FIDDY WAS ABOUT MAXED OUT AND EVERYTHING WAS RIGHT, THE OIL-IN-FRAME '71 MODELS WERE A UNIVERSAL JOKE OF PANTS WETTING PROPORTIONS AND WERE ONLY NOMINALLY IMPROVED BY THE TIME OF THE ARRIVAL OF THE '73 DISC BRAKE VARIANT . . . . HAVING SOLD A SEMI BASKET CASE '69 TO OBTAIN THIS JIGGER I WAS STILL OBVIOUSLY A TOTAL NOVICE IN THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE FINER POINTS OF THE BONNEVILLE LINEAGE, I FIGURED A 750cc MOTOR AND A DISC BRAKE FRONT END HAD TO BE A BETTER THING, I WAS WRONG. THAT SAID, BY THE TIME I'D FINISHED A SUCCESSION OF UPGRADES AFTER A SUCCESSION OF FAILURES IN 1994 INCLUDING MOTOR REBUILD [CAMS, 'R' FOLLOWERS, OIL PUMP, MUSHROOM HEADED TAPPETS ETC], GEARBOX, PIPES, MUFFLERS, OIL COOLER, REAR SHOCKS AND A BUNCH OF AESTHETIC STUFF, IT WAS A CRACKING BIKE . . . . RIDDEN DAILY, IT WAS RELIABLE, OIL TIGHT AND WENT AS HARD AS MOST TRUMPIES CAN BEFORE YOU COMPROMISE THEIR INTEGRITY. I LOVED THE LITTLE FUCKER AND CLEARLY STILL DO, WE'VE ALL SOLD BIKES AND REGRETTED IT, THE LESSON LEARNED FROM THIS ONE IS THE THIS TIME ROUND, THE SKIRTSTER, FOR ALL IT'S MUNDANE MODERNITY, IS NEVER GOING ANYWHERE, ONE DAY IT WILL BE JUST ANOTHER OLD, USED AND MUCH LOVED BIKE.

Tuesday 17 December 2013

THE GOLDEN AGE OF MOTORSPORT, THE 1950's AND 1960's . . . . WELL, IT'S MY GOLDEN AGE, FIND YOUR OWN IF YOU HAPPEN NOT TO AGREE . . . . INDY CAR RACING, WITH AN OBVIOUS FOCUS ON 'THE BRICKYARD' WAS THE ZENITH OF THE CATEGORY . . . . BEAUTIFULLY FAST.

REAL MEN DRIVE WITH THE ENGINE AT THE FRONT . . . . MOST MODERN RACE CARS MAKE ME YAWN.

How could anyone who is into motor racing not be moved by the aesthetic delights of the Indy Cars they were racing in the late fifties and early sixties ? At a period where the earliest of the rear engined cars as pioneered by Colin Chapman were beginning to appear the definitive and traditional Offy powered rigs were still the thing to beat at their spiritual home, Indianapolis. . . . the fact they were ultimately doomed to extinction by the monocoque, engine-as-a-stressed-member imports is beside the point, for all the advantages of the new breed interlopers they were never surpassed in their sheer voluptuously brutal beauty. In my estimations no open wheeled race cars have ever come close, not even the Italians with their F1 Grand Prix rigs of the same period. Below are just two examples that conclusively prove my case . . . . personal preference you say, bah humbug say I.

COME AND GET ONE IN THE YARBLES, IF YA HAVE ANY YARBLES . . . . NO TIME FOR THE OL' IN AND OUT LOVE . . . . I'VE JUST COME TO READ YOUR METER . . . . RUNNING LIKE CLOCKWORK.