Early Chili, a recipe straight from my brain to your belly

Step one.
Begin stressing out immediately. This will ease you through the latter part of the process. Eventually you will break down a little, and this early release of stress will pull you through the dark times.

Step 2.
Go to the store, and wander around a little. I do some great thinking in the store, and you can too. Being inspired as to what to make, while surrounded by huge amounts of food, can be overwhelming but also very tasty in the end.
Then go look at the meat.
Straight to the lamb, as this is early chili.
Early as in the style made before it was even close to being called chili.
Somewhere in the Far East.
I think that a half a leg of lamb is perfect.
Buy it. You will have to talk the butcher, who is hopefully sympathetic to your cause,
into cutting it in half for you.
Go straight to the produce.
Get a red and a yellow pepper.
A onion, medium size.
Some ancho, or pablano peppers. You only really need a couple. Of each.
Nice garlic.
Some ripe Roma tomatoes.

Now, this is tricky. And it takes more wandering around, cause it isn't easy to find.
If it is even there.
There are many kinds of stock to use, but for a dish such as I am making, I only see two options. One is chicken stock, which is available anywhere.
The other is demi, which, I haven't found much except when I made it.
Cooking it down stinks to high heaven, and it cooks for a very long time, actually about the length of time it takes to cook this chili.
If you can't find demi, then use some good organic stock, and maybe fine strain it.
If you use the demi, you don't need much really. Once you buy some, you will probably be able to have it around for a long time if you take care of it.
Cumin and chili powder, and the obvious salt and pepper.
Some olive oil.
A good sized can of tomato paste, organic, and another of tomato sauce, organic.
Now, wander around the store some more until you find the finest chocolate you can.
The higher the cocoa bean percentage, the better. And not over sweetened, bitter sweet is best.
Hurry home. Fill the crock pot with water, and turn it onto high.... This is important...
Start cutting up the lamb into nice , smaller chunks. Remove the fat cap from the big chunk. At this point I hope you bought the good half of the leg of lamb....They are different really, and one is much nicer.
Put two pans on the stove. One bigger with some oil in it, not much. One smaller , on med low. Put the tomato sauce, and the tomato paste in one (the one without the oil).
Add salt and pepper, moderately. Here is where I talk about seasoning.
At most every step, from here on out, I season. Salt and pepper. But with moderation.
You will see TV chef's throw a bunch in at once. Not me. Season constantly, as you go. But lightly.

Stir immediately, the start picking up the lamb with a paper towel in your hand. this allows you to dry the chunks, season it, a little , before putting them into the hot oil to brown.
Get all the lamb in, then start cutting the onion. At this point, to make the chili just leap out at the eater, cut all pieces of veggies about the same, 4 or 5 will fit in a spoon size. You want the spoon to be able to contain all parts of the chili. if some is falling off, it isn't going in the mouth.
Throw in the cumin, a nice amount, and some chili powder...
Throw the onion into the lamb. Stir it now, then start cutting the peppers, into the same spoonable size.
Now cut and throw in a bunch of garlic. Season it again.
This is where I tell you about seeds.
The seeds DO NOT GO INTO THE CHILI!
Seeds, a lot of them, taste nasty. if you put nasty into your chili, what the hell do you think it is going to taste like?
Stir the tomato sauce, quickly. it is probably starting to stick, so turn it down a little.Season it TO TASTE! (most of those sauces and pastes are pre-seasoned of course.
Quick, stir the lamb again.
Throw the peppers into the lamb. Then start cutting the chili's, and throw them in. (without the vein and the seeds!)
Throw the chili's in, and stir everything.
Now, all the veggies should be in with the lamb. Except the tomato's.
Take the Roma tomato's, and cut them all in half, length wise.
Scoop out the pulp, and throw it away. Salt and pepper them, and throw them into a bowl.
Dump the water out of the crock pot, and add the lamb.
Then add the tomato sauce mix.
Now add the organic chicken stock, or a little demi if you were able to find it.
Dice the Roma tomato's into the same 4 or 5 to a spoon, size.
Throw them into the crock pot.
Now, take the chocolate, and break almost half of it into small chunks, and drop them into the crock pot.
Let it come up to a slow boil, then turn the crock pot onto low.
Leave it alone for about two hours.

Now, after the two hours, go taste it.
If it seems to need a little more kick, then add some more cumin, chili powder, and maybe another pepper.
Leave it alone, on low, for another hour.

Now, turn off the heat.
Fill a big bowl with ice, pour the chili into a smaller bowl, and set both into the fridge, stirring frequently.
Completely cool the chili in this manner. Completely.
Then even, throw it into the freezer for an hour.....

This may seem confusing to you now.
My point here is that you achieve the flavor that left over chili has, by fully cooling, and letting it congeal....

Now, put it back into the crock pot, on high, until it is simmering. Turn it back to low.

At this point in my chili, I made a dangerous decision.
It was 12:45 in the morning, and I got on my bike, and went into NE Portland to have a beer.
That beer turned into two, then three.
Then we left the bar, and went to my friend's house, where we drank from a keg, and, for my first time, played Nintendo WII.
First bowling, then boxing, then even more boxing.. What fun!
All of a sudden, it is 5:15 in the morning, and I still have a big beer in my hand.
I put it down and follow my friend to her house, where we kind of sleep, kinda chat, kinda lay there, already hung over.
Around 11 AM, I wake up with a jolt, get on my phone and ask Bjorn to turn off the chili.
At this point it had been cooking for around 15 hours.
Knowing it was turned off, I laid back down until around 2 PM.
My head hurt, my face hurt, I was wearing these pink velour short shorts, and nothing else.
My friend had left earlier, so I was alone in the house, less than 2 hours from the start of the Mercury Chili cook off!
I raced home, stopping to puke a couple of times.
60 blocks later, I am throwing the chili into the freezer, in a big zip lock bag, covered in ice.
Straight into the shower for me, to shave, and yes, puke some more.
I turned it around, and rolled out the door another 85 blocks to Dee's.
Pretty much spent the afternoon there, wrapped in a blanket, on the couch, watching my chili disappear.
(This is an edit, due to the fact that I wrote this so late last night, while feeling sick as a dog, I feel I may have slighted Dee).
Dee and I decided that he won the Beef chili cookoff, and I won the Lamb chili cookoff.
But, my head hurt so bad, I could not even enjoy either chili much. I ate some of Dee's, and ate some of mine... My taste buds were so destroyed by the effects of last nights alcohol, that everything was off...
Straight home to bed.. For a good long time...

This is the dedication, and the level of OCD, that it takes for me to make chili.
What is a guy to do?

Messenger Mt. Climbing... A really bad idea!

It has been suggested to me that I post some of my many stories here on my blog.
It has also been suggested that some of them are so incredible as to be entirely unbelievable.
Memoirs are just that. Memories.
Sometimes they come out of the brain a little different than how they go in.
That is my disclaimer.

I would like to add that one of the stars of this sordid tale, Colin Breckon, is no longer with us, due to many bad decisions on his part.
He was my best friend, and his own worst enemy.
I loved him.
The anniversary of his death is coming up. Any day now.
Getting this story out of my head and into the minds of other's is part of my therapy.
It is posted here to remind me, and you, how great life is, and how lucky we are.
Especially me.


1996. Early June.
I was asked to take a group of guys up Mt. Hood. For some reason, I agreed to do so.
A couple of weeks before, I had taken my friends Jim, Mike, and Matt onto Mt. St Helens.
We met outside the Skidmore Fountain building early in the morning. Matt Lewis was so drunk still, I was no less than a little worried.
I mention this to give reference to the rest of the story.
On the way up Mt. St. Helens, which is about a 6 hour or longer uphill hike, Matt started waking up. We offered him food, which he would put into his mouth, and immediately spit out.
Yet, within a couple of hours, and the steeper it got, Matt started catching up, then passing us, eventually beating us to the top of the mountain. It was there I enjoyed a cigar, a picture of which my brother has somewhere...By the way there was also a wedding going on there that day. The grandparent's made it to the top, one set of parents didn't. But they did give us champagne...
I mentioned this to show the resolve that a messenger will endure to get a job done.
Once started, not much will keep you from a goal....
So, back to early June.
Six of us went up to Gov. Camp, to a house that Jim had rented. He had recently done a photo shoot for Ski Bowl, and had been partially paid in credit, to be used on the Mt.
They had a job to do up there that day, which left Colin, Matt and I with what is called the "Action Pass". This means that you can repeatedly ride everything, as much as you want, all day.
This was a dream for us. We found ourselves in the bar early, drinking what is known as a "Skullfucker", a selection of many white boozes, and a little fruit juice, served in a pint glass.
After slamming one of these each, ( our on the spot rule was that they had to be slammed, not sipped) it was straight to the go carts. Then straight to the Bungie Jump (100 feet I guess). On to the alpine slide, back to the bar to slam another Skullfucker, then back to the go carts to do it all over again.
At the end of the day, we met Jim, Mike, and Dave at the Ratskeller, for dinner and drinks. Realizing we were not going to make it up the mountain at 3 or 4 in the morning, I decided to postpone our climb for a day. Jim, Mike and Dave left to go to bed around 11pm, leaving us at the bar, unattended.
This led to closing down the bar, and me giving Colin a piggy back ride to the rental, then going back to help Matt Lewis, who I think was lost within the three blocks we had to travel.
After finally making it to bed at around 3:30, I wake up at 5AM to hear a scream, and a lot of racket follow it.
It turned out that Colin had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor, and Jim had opened the door into his head. This turned into Colin punching Jim in the head.
Moments later, it is announced to me (remember, I was supposedly in charge of this climb) that they were going "To the top!!!"
I am like, "The top of what?"
It turns out they were leaving in minutes to have some breakfast, then climb the mountain.
While Mt. Hood is not a hard climb persay, it still takes some knowledge, some skill, and better yet, some cognitive capacity and proper decision making.
This being the case, I was the only one prepared even slightly to climb the mountain, let alone lead the way.
Essentially, as idiotic as they were being, it was my responsibility, and I had to go. No question...
I pull myself out of barely 1 hour of sleep, and start getting ready.
Shoved food and gear into my pack, and ran off to breakfast, where, as it turned out, sadly, they were waiting for me outside, already full. No breakfast for me, due to extremely high testosterone levels.
We drove immediately up Mt. Hood, where, due to our late start, it was decided that we were going to ride the lift up to the Palmer Glacier. I then decided that they were buying my damn ticket, so up we went.
Gear on at about 7,500 feet, we started moving well.
I think it was right below what is called the "Hogsback" that I started feeling my ears ache.
I suggested that we stop, and eat, for I had the classic Hemmingway lunch in my pack. (Bread, salami, cheese, and a bottle of wine)
Chewing will relax the jaw muscles, which are connected to the sinuses, and deeper to the ears, which were starting to pound away on my head. The wine will help a little with the headache, when combined with the vicadon in my pocket.
This was the second of of many times that I heard screamed "To The Top!", a term I began to hate, as it meant we were not stopping for lunch, or anything else for that matter.
On we went, up and up. The pain in my ears increased ten fold. Many more times I suggested we eat, stop, and relax, only to be shot down with the same war cry...
It was right below the "Berg Strum" (a sideways crevasse below a steep pitch), that I finally turned around, leaving them to their own demise.
I realized that I needed to hammer down the hill, and get the pressure in my ears to equalize. I both slid and almost ran down the mountain to Timberline Lodge, hitched a ride down to Gov. Camp, where Colin and Matt were nowhere to be found.
I still had to go lower yet, so I drove down to Rhodedendrone.
My ears started to feel a little better, so it was back up the hill to the house, where I searched for Colin and Matt.
Nowhere to be seen, I drove back up to Timberline, where I saw a hastily scribbled note at the climbing station saying "Went up the mountain to find you, Colin and Matt".
I still have that note somewhere.
This put me in the position of having two different parties, on two different parts of a very big mountain.
I started back up to Palmer Glacier, very worried. It was about halfway or more back up when I ran into Jim, Mike, and Dave, on the way down.
They said they had made it to the top, Dave had backslid the final steep pitch for about 25 yards, but somehow magically stopped himself from dying.
They moved on down, and I proceeded up, and up, and up again.
I eventually found Colin and Matt above the top of the Palmer, sharing a bottle of Wild Turkey between them. I was so pissed off at everyone involved, for being so ignorant, that I sat with them for a while, drinking.
After convincing them that we needed to go down the mountain, as it was already late afternoon, or even evening, and my ears were really not better at all, we took a nice, slow hike down, enjoying the view.
Another fight ensued back at the rental house, and we made up, and rolled back to close down the Ratskeller again, stumbling back at around 2:30 AM.
We celebrated our ignorance with another full day of rides and drinks at Ski Bowl, where the bartender decided she really liked us. This quickly became our downfall, and led to repeated drunken go cart racing, into the night.
We went home the next day, and I went straight to the ER, where the truth was told.
It turned out that the week before, I was at my swimming hole, diving off a 30 foot rock, and picking things off the bottom of the river at a depth of probably 25 feet.
This had once again blown my ear drums, a fact which I discovered high on Mt. Hood that fateful day.
The only real wise decision made that entire weekend was when I ditched my friends, and turned around, "supposedly" ending my climb. Had I continued, I probably would have either had to be carried off the mountain, which I am sure those three would not have been able to pull off, or be rescued by the authorities, which would have cost me thousands of dollars (rightly so!).
I know this has been a long post. I have even left out details of this sorted saga, which I had no room to insert.
I am sure you could only imagine what else may have ensued.
By the way, all of this occured way before I owned a camera, sadly....

Trophy....

This is a missed connections post I put on Craigslist last week.
After the 5 Week Cash Money Alleycat series, my trophy was stolen out of my roomates van.
So I wrote and posted this.
Due to the way I wrote it, I received letters from people calling me names, and ladies telling me I was delusional, and she desreved to be stolen away, blah, blah, blah......
I knew this was going to happen. I also knew that a select few people would read it, and would get it. This is who I wrote it for, so now I share it here.....
Enjoy!



Trophy,

It was 5 weeks in the making.
I had heard about you from others. I kept showing up
every week, just to catch a glimpse of you.....
I spent my money, put in the hard work. It was not
easy.
Gale force winds. Rain. Impossible tasks, and during
these said tasks, police to evade.
Do you even realize what I put myself through to make
you mine?
Not only physical, but mental anguish.
It was bad enough to have all the competition for you
(and there was a lot) be half my age. Do you even know
what that does to a man?
I had to give it more than my 110 percent, every week.
I had to prepare myself daily for the time when we
would meet, and, for the moment, when, I knew you
would be mine.
Finally, that moment came.
I had a blind date with a chancer later that same
night. Strong willed, fun, and beautiful, I was
anticipating all evening our meeting.
But before that, I gave my all to make you mine.
Pulled out all the stops.
I did exactly what I had to, to ensure that you would
be going home with me.
No matter how my blind date went, I had to know
whether you and I fit.
There were so many others around. It was very smoky,
and everyone was kinda loaded.
Yet, when you came in the door, I knew it was you. And
I knew you were mine.
I think it was pretty much obvious to everyone there.
They all wanted you too. I could see it in their eyes.
Guys and girls alike, they all thought you were the
"Bell of the Ball".

Two hours later, you were mine. All were jealous, of
me, because I had you.

I sent you home in a car with a friend. I felt you
were safe, going to make it home fine. I put my trust
in my friend to take care of something I wanted so
much.
It was right about when I left you in the van, that my
blind date showed up.
A vision of beauty, and smarts, with a smile that
could melt a glacier.
Once again, I became smitten. I revealed too much
about myself. I was charming without trying.
Our evening went on and on, into the late night. When
I left to ride home, she convinced me to just sleep on
the couch. (It was like 18 degrees outside)
The next day, I heard that you dissapeared in the
night, stolen away by another not so deserving as I.
Another that wanted you so badly, no amount of morals
mattered.
Thoughts of you consumed me.
While my blind date turned into a regular thing
(happily), she and I spoke of you, and I confessed my
worry. Worry as to what could have come of you, and
whether another was giving you the attention you
deserved.

I saw you on Saturday afternoon.
You looked happy.
Tall, and Statuesque. Shining brightly, with your
homemade looks. even my friends told me how great you
looked, how my glory shown through you, overshadowing
all.
I had to leave you behind once again, and this causes
me to feel a great sense of worry.
Will you be mine?
Will our destiny be fulfilled?
Only time will tell.
But, I leave you knowing this.
Whoever you are with. Wherever you are.
You will always be mine.

Will we grow old together, happy as clams?
Only time will tell




* Location: A Shady Lane.....

On the Rocks, With a Twist?

So much happened this weekend.... Too much really... And I realistically missed half of it.
I made my chili. The time line I laid out the other day? Well, that is a whole other story.....
I started my chili right after coming home from the store.
The butcher at Safeway near my house, pulled out a leg of lamb for me. he said it was the nicest one they had, and then he actually cut it in more than half for me, so I could save finances.
I consider this great customer service. Instead of getting me a lesser cut, he sacrificed a beautiful piece of meat for me, and gave me a great price.
I brought it home, laid it on the cutting board, and started to take it apart.
It made me so happy, that the chili almost made itself.
In and out of pans, in and out of the crock pot. it was magic...
And then came 1:00AM.
I made a decision to ride into town, and go out. To the Nest.
Crockpot on low, gears on high, I flew across town.
A beer at the nest led to beers at a house down the street, which then led to bowling on the Nintendo Wii.
This was my first Wii experience, and I loved it. I won the bowling. Then we switched to the boxing, which I again won. (generally I suck at video games)
Too many beers, and realizing it was getting light outside, I crashed at a near by friends house.
I think the moment was around 11:00, when I remembered my chili was still in the crock pot at home.
I jumped up, and called Bjorn to turn it off for me, then fell back asleep, with a horrible hangover.
About 2PM, I got up and headed home. I was already going to miss the Lady Of Havoc Drag race, but felt so horrible that I would not have had fun anyway.
Racing home, i worried about my chili quite a bit.
I also worried about my ability to shake off my headache, turn it around and make it to Dee's house by around 4.

Upon arriving home, I was under the impression that my chili was ruined, as I had to taste it cold.
No matter, I threw it in a big zip lock, threw that in a stuff sack, and rolled back across town.
Dee did not tell too many people about the cook off, so it was really my chili against his, which, if I may tell you, puts me in a bad position.
Dee makes a proven competition winning chili.
I made a chili most people have never heard of, with a recipe I made up along the way. We had pretty much equal amounts of chili on the stove.
The winner was not really chosen, but get this:
When Ken, and a few others showed up late. When they went to try the chili's , there was some left in Dee's pot, but mine was all gone...
This I deem a success, and is all I needed to see, as much as I could from my position under a blanket on the couch.
As you may imagine, I went home Sat. night, and did not leave again until Monday morning. I went out for a early training ride before going into town.
It was a good day downtown, and the afternoon was filled with revelry, since there were people here from Seattle, and S.F.
After happy hour, we went over to Booze and Fooze. The normal hooligans were there, and Brady convinced me to go out to the river in Milwaukee, to have a little Old Crow.
We hammered out to River Road, had a snort on the rocks.

After walking through mud, and water, we rolled to Oaks Park, for another snort.
Strangely, we made it about 2 miles before pulling into Oaks Bottom for one more.
This is Brady we are talking about. The sun in his solar system is A Foster's Lager can after all.

We then flew down the esplanade into town, back to Booze and Fooze, where I lasted about another hour before riding home.
I got up early Tuesday morning, flew into downtown for "Breakfast on the Bridges" on St. Velotine's Day. Coffee and donuts later, I was off on another training ride, before a full day in the core.
Later, a group of us watched the Blazer Game at the XV, then I went off to SE to hang with other friends.
I left the house at 6 something in the morning, and got home around midnight.
What a day!

It's 2:45, and I gotta start making some chili.

Seriously, I have a problem.
My pan is too small. The fridge is big enough. But the pan is too small.
Add to that the fact that I can't exactly remember everything I put in last year's chili. I wanted to make a better version of that great chili. Lamb, chocolate, spices..
It was great in of itself. Didn't need improvement.
But this isn't how my mind works.
And, to add fuel to the fire, I have to make sure my dress fits well.
30+ miles and hour on a fix gear, in a short black number, really changes things.
But, I suppose I will deal with that inn the first couple of miles of the Lady's of Havoc Drag Race, at the Vern, 2:00, Saturday...
I have some great pics from last year I will post here, in order to wet your whistle.
What is it I am supposed to be doing?
Oh, the chili.
First it is off to Safeway. Any minute now. Up the hill, and across one of the most dangerous intersections in the city, Fremont and Sandy, NE.
Plus, if you want a donut, you have to navigate it an extra time.
I digress.
Lamb. What could be better, on a Friday afternoon. The chili I plan to make is pretty much "Early Chili". This is a term I coined for the original chili, made in the far east.
I hope it is good enough, 'cause "The Mercury" "Chili Cook Off" is Saturday afternoon also.
So, check this out. My timeline from now 'till Sat.
1. Go to Safeway. Shop.
2. Start Chili. In too small of a pan.
4. Eventually move chili to the crock pot. (Then come back here and put up some old, great pics)
5. Crock pot the chili fully. Who knows, many, many hours.
6. Sometime this evening, I need to fully cool the chili. Fully.
7. Then I need to heat it back up. Fully.
8. Then I need to cool it again. Fully.
9. Depending on what time it is at that point, I may even do it again, then put it in the fridge while I sleep. This will allow the flavors to meld, everything begins congealing.
10.Wake up pretty early, no coffee, and put it back in the crock pot.
11. Go back to bed.
get up, shower, shave, work on my bike, put the chili back in the fridge.
12. At this point, I am surely going to be running behind, aiming for the Vern at 2:00, and yes, in a short black number, with slight fringe.
13. Drink a beer, then race, and Win I might add, the Drag Race.
14. Haul ass across town, probably quite a ways, dealing with routing, traffic, riddles, and that hella cold draft hitting my bare thighs.
15. Celebrate my glory, for winning, at the Vern after wards.
16. Realize it is already after 4 pm.
17. Fly home, change out of the dress.
18. Figure out how the hell I am going to get my chili over to Dee's, for a chili cookoff that has already started.
19. Haul ass from 76th and Skidmore to North Portland.
20.
21. Heat the chili back up. I assume this will be the 5th or 6th time this occurs.
22. WIN THE CHILI COOK OFF! Yes, the word on everyones lips will be tasty.
23. Celebrate, more glory, Blah blah blah.
24. Who knows what will occur now? I will probably be eating the leftover chocolate from my chili, and have a medium range, chocolate/vodka buzz.
25. Sit in chair, probably laughing.

I know, exhausting wasn't it.... I doubt I get it done.
But, it is exactly what I am off to do.
Smell Ya' Later,
Dabby

Weeks in Review

It has been a little while since my last post, but there have been a few going's on's around here........
A small group of us rolled down to Rickreal for poker night two weeks ago. it was Ryan, and Jaiden, Eric, Magnum, and I.
As the pictures show, Eric brought Guitar hero, a Playstation game that is basically air guitar. Who would have thought that Magnum would become addicted to it? A number of hours were put into playing it, with a few rocking photos coming out of it.
We moved, or dragged, Eric away from guitar hero to play speed Scrabble. My
recollection is a little hazy, but I am quite sure I dominated them. Ryan won one game also, got frustrated, and suggested we move outside for the sunset.
Judge for yourself with this pic
I took, but the sunset was fabulous, and through the newly mangled tree, it turned into a great shot.
We moved on to playing poker, and what a game it was. Many ups and down, with Eric, and possibly Magnum, running out of money entirely.
This may have been planned, as they ran directly back to the guitar hero game
after losing.

Ryan had cooked pulled pork, so we feasted on that for a while...
All in all a great trip to the Mud Branch Farm!
Tuesday after that, we played poker again at the house Magnum shares with Dee and Ann. This is now our regular Tuesday night game, and always turns out to be a good time.

Wed was of course Bike Polo, outside the Polo House in the cul-de-sac. it is a very small, or "sport" court, with dangerous curbs and the like, but generally produces good games. I can't wait for the season change, so we can go back to Wed. night's in the park.
Friday night, Operation Fabulous and I went to my sister's latest musical, "Bark", downtown at 15th and Morrison.

It was very good, as I knew it would be. The musical consists of 6 actors and actresses, dealing with dog related issues such as sniffing butts, waiting for the owners to come, etc.
I highly recommend seeing it. (This pic is Brady's "Solar System" he set up in his room!)

We wandered across the street to the "Driftwood Room, at the Mallory Hotel, one of my old jobs, and haunts. This is where my sister goes after shows, for good reason.
A few drinks, some excellent crab cakes, and a terrific elevator ride later, and if was off for a good nights sleep.

I didn't make it on the "Death March" that happened that weekend, and have continued getting crap for it. Although as the stories go, it was more TV watching than Death Marching...
Sunday was Bike Polo in Alberta Park again. A very nice, but very cold day turned into a nightmare for me when I T Boned the Ringer, catching my fingers between our
handlebars. the pics say it all, and a week later I still have great pain from it.
This greatly slowed down the rest of my week, and I was slightly anti social, until Saturday Night, when I stayed too late into the morning at Chakra's B-day party at the "Princess Palace".
Fun was had by all, and for some too much. I got home around 4 am, and slept 5 hours before finding myself wide awake, waiting to go bar-b-que at Lahar's house for the Super Bowl, which was very interesting.
I also got the chance to see Spence's sailboat, "Coconut's".
It looks fun, and I look forward to duct taping Beefa to the mast in the near future.
That is about all I have for you today, so get the hell off the computer and out of the house, as it is a very nice day again today..