Ride Lugged

hey i am starting a music blog.  its going to be sort of like this joint, but with less bike references.  actually what i mean is, i hope to run it as a collective.  get lots of contributors, so lots of people roll through.  i want to cover the following genres: not shitty folk, bluegrass, hip hop that doesnt suck, punk they dont play on the radio, indie that contains no tight pants, electronic shit, jazz, soul, and some other shit that doesnt include christian rock, top 40 gospel, toby keith or any of his brethern, ect.

it will be super easy to contribute, thanks to starmer’s ingeniousness.  maybe it will become rad enough to warrent its own domain name and spin of merch.  get on it nick!

the address, for now:  broknrecord.wordpress.com 

i’ll be posting content tonite and tomarrow, a bit.  let me know what you think.  I havnt (starmer hasnt) hacked a way to let you down load the content yet, but maybe this will give you inspiration on bands to support and or steal from.  maybe we’ll make a monthly newsletter.

i want to say, emphatically, that this doesnt mean i will be writting less for this blog, as some of you might have been hoping.  fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

see you on side B.

here it is in all its glory. one per customer.

spoke card for the ride spoken of below.

you will be there.

nick, get your ticket. or hide in cory’s baggage.

So I was reading through The Gaurdian tonight…yes, I read…and found this pic of our friend Cory who apparently has joined a Go-Go band ( check the chick with the whistle! ) and is playing at radar station protests now. Hate to say it, but I kinda saw this one coming…

I bet they do a mean cover of “Doin’ the butt” by EU…I can hear it now…
“Putin got a big ole’ butt, oh yeah!….Dubya got a big ole’ butt, oh yeah!…”

Here’s a few pics I took at Bike Jam: Baltimore this weekend. Gary was there too, just hanging out like it was in his backyard, which it sorta was.

Closest I’ve ever been to pro-level road racing action. Only saw one crash for as short of a course as it was.

Suffice it to say, there were no lugged bikes there.

More Bike Jam content at my friend Garret’s blog: here and here

we knew cory less than 1094 days. during that time, he wore camoflage (sp) shants for at least 1078 of those days. for proof of this, visit fix. here is a super short foto journal looking back on the 1093 days we knew cory (or thought we did). what? i have a fever, i cant be writing some long post about cory, his stance on lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks or saggy tits. I’ll save that for a whole nuther post about lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks and saggy tits. cory had (when you leave the country you die, so i will only refer to cory in the past tense from now on) a penchant for dirty fingernails, dirty palms, floors, kitchens (his bathroom was suprizingly clean) bedrooms, living rooms, (when i first met cory, this isnt a lie, he had mark and I over for a beer (sorry me and mark) (where is mark anyway?) and we drank beers out a fridge that was in his ‘living room’ aka a log cabin with no furniture except for a fridge that you had to reach across a fairly large hole in the floor to get to.), cars that smelled like feet and raw meat, clothes that had huge holes that had been patched with fabrics that didnt match at all, homemade hats of various unsundry, bikes that looked like crap and barely rode in a straight line (he used chicken fat for grease) ect ect.

since we knew him, he spent at least 12,000 pounds sterling on new bikes, all of which would have looked super hotness, but he would abeways find a way to ruin them somehow. he would put dirty diaper looking saddle covers on 2000 dollar mtn bikes, and tape floor pumps to his downtubes. i suppose thats what made cory, cory. cory.

cory.

anyway, here are the pictures, which as yet dont include any fotos of lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks or saggy tits. nor are thy illustrative of cory’s stance on lugged bikes, lugged bicycles, bikes with lugs, horses, crazy french people, floppy dicks or saggy tits.

desperate attempt to get linked by wonkette again: cory at the dirtiest bike messenger race ever. we got dead fucking last and cory when home with a grundle of czech sex toys. a sign of things to come. (yeah i know he had already met veronika)

cory with granola jacki pheland. ( i cant spell or exactly remember how to pronounce her last name) cory traded his prized banjo for jaqui’s (sp?) beer. rumor has it she doesn’t ride a lugged bike, nor does she own a horse.

crazy french people! on horses! oh wait, its just cory (center) his mom, (wacky) and dad (not drunk, but looks it), at the wild west party, where there was plenty of lugged horses. and by that i mean lugged bicycles.

cory getting ready for his bit part in the new james bond flick. little does he know that it

takes place in france, where crazy french people, with horses live.

we’ll miss you cory, god bless america, what?! were you born in a barn, jesus mary and joseph, west by god virginia, wade benson. maybe you never return. (without bearing cheap foreign made gifts)