what would Scott Mathauser do?
March 9, 2010
in the absence of anything important
petty little details take on weight and
masquerade as meaningful
high-speed shimmy downhill squeal
eye watering gut punching choad checking
jibber jabber brake chatter Scotty Mathauser
onto the real dog & pony show
straight from the can cold
over stale dry white rice cakes
robot-pimped all day everyday
pushed to the edge of the uncanny valley
four percentage points from full-on zombie
tweaked just off-center analog AM radio
what would Walla Walla Washington do
look to the alien bovine balloons
###
angry drunk rough draft [redacted]
in the absence of anything important to say
stupid petty little stupid details take on weight wait
masquerading as meaningful and so full of shit
high-speed shimmy downhill squealing between your knees
eye watering gut punching choad checking
back slapping high fiving frat boy bro braing flip flopping
spring break
jibber jabber brake chatter fresh pair o Scotty Mathauser
just another day at the dog & pony show
---redacted
held to a higher standard
straight from the grocery outlet can poured
over sticky white rice
robot-pimped out all day everyday 40 hours or more
pushed to the edge to the brink of the uncanny valley
four percentage points from full-on zombie wannabe
tweaked tweeker off-center analog radio chatter
what would Walla Walla County do
look look to the alien bovine balloons
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...I won't do what you tell me
March 8, 2010
painted by numbers into a corner
square-pegged into a career for years
playing along playing the game
inside the lines well before deadlines
on time on schedule on the clock
by the book check the calendar
seven years went under the bridge then seven more
before Stella got her groove back up front
the son of derivative part two
keeps them coming back
the unmistakable scent
hotdog water wafting boiling over
burnt crust grilled cheese
bologna has a first name
extra ketchup on the side
from the side of the road
to the top of the toaster oven
it looks so much bigger out of context
what seems to be the problem
as plenty of symptoms show up
multiple zippers pulled up
stacked up on the Adam’s apple
layered up cold like tangy guacamole
recently expired in a grocery store deli
dip between the refried beans and sour cream
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Hobson's Choice
March 6, 2010
Today is the day I made an investment in your future by purchasing a fresh batch of American Apparel T-shirts in an attempt to single-handedly revive the economy. The rest is up to you. So tell two friends to tell two friends and then send money because consumer confidence is thawing out this spring sprouting up through the topsoil like a poppy.
mauve lapis grass poppy baby-blue gold sangria. These are the colors of your new favorite shirts in the morning, when we rise. Switched-up for the return customers that want something different in their dresser and not just another black bike shirt.
You and you and you can always use a new shirt because things wear out and sometimes you get shitwhistled and destroy your favorite shirt by stretching it over the head of Chief Seattle in the name of Matt Case.
checkout the t-shirt page
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kilograms per cubic meter (kg/m³)
March 5, 2010
"too much is never enough, it's always too much"
--Daniel E. Murray
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a time and place for white cable housing
March 4, 2010
a journey of 1000 miles begins with
it’s always the last place you look
that carrot on a string that keeps you going
day-old chicken salad sandwich hold the mayo
hold the chicken between your knees
hold it down keep it together or
let it break down into five easy pieces
expectations lowered back to sea level
expectorations return to street level
one loogie at a time
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forklift
March 3, 2010
it’s all over but the hangover
second-day socks expired
turned inside out and not quite right like
recycled bread sacks painted labels peeling
flaking off into lunches packed for loved ones
to enjoy six hours from now more or less
twist ties tied getting by
making do over due doo-doo
clear as a three dollar bill
standing by until I need to sit down
Two Union near the artificial waterfall
to the sound of falling water
and the smell of bleach too
easy to see the lack of efficiency
redundancy I have to pee
move to Monorail for more coffee
table rusty hose clamp clamped
around a shaky leg shake a leg
working copies to C-203 ASAP
fork lift and don’t forget to breathe
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disclosure of possible primary witnesses
March 2, 2010
take a second swipe at the first impression
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there must be a pony in here somewhere
February 28, 2010
Where everything is a sunny breezy smooth and easy bike ride away from everything else
Where it’s OK to horse around while riding because there must be a pony in there somewhere
Where working means riding a bike and horsing around means riding a bike
Where a bag full of beer is much lighter and much more important than a bag full of law books
Where it doesn’t matter how you get there or when you get there or if you actually arrive at all
Where there are no copies to conform so relax and don’t worry about calling to confirm
Where the judges do not want 3-ring binders full of courtesy copies
Where drivetrains are silently efficiently effectively frictionless
Where spoke tension is uniform
Where nobody speaks the same language but everybody understands
Where the Sunday NY Times is delivered by cherubic children on bicycles and it doesn’t get stolen off your porch
Where you can wash your hair with dish soap and wash your dishes with hand soap
Where the gravitational pull of predictability is comforting like a magnetic attraction or a landmark used to get your bearings and not just the same old rote route rut routine that becomes overbearing
Where
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27.5 days later
February 27, 2010
The past five days of what some would call a workweek collectively literally a slow leak in more ways than one a hard row to hoe figuratively let me count the ways today I do not want to ride or even touch a bike practically however we do not have a choice on this as we do not own or flex a zip car and specifically the last thing I want to do today is fix a flaccid flat tire after riding it out for 40.33 hours at Dog & Pony Legal Messengers every day fulltime and not just 3 or 4 or when I fucking feel like it and the second to last thing I want to do today on this misty Saturday is ride my bike to Magnuson Park to buy some blown-out chamois skinsuits or some gently-worn brake pads or some shark-finned chainrings or some long-reach dual pivots for my girlfriend’s bike for the day when she’s ready to ditch the 27” wheels and say hello to 700c. See. This is my February.
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onesie
February 26, 2010
This is my nephew Hunter Pilder sporting a pilderwasser onesie in the Eastern time zone. Who doesn't like kittens and kites and kids in black American Apparel onesies silkscreened in Seattle?
I'm just waiting on the Naj.
A rear derailleur shifting gears on a shifter bike. Skipping and jumping ADHD like a brand-new chain on a worn out cassette.
After this special presentation we will return you to our regularly scheduled program and join Friday already in progress. Please return to your cubicles with your biodegradable clamshells full of daily specials. If you don’t have a cubicle, go out there a win one for the Gipper
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horseshit
February 25, 2010
Don't sweat the small stuff and everything is horseshit
take it easy Sugarbear
word
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Rumberg has a posse
February 25, 2010
toeing the line between participant and observer
pulling out a camera changes everything
going from one of us to one of them
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there once was a man from Racine
February 24, 2010
please press hard you are making 3 copies
had a dream I was a messenger in Seattle
sitting in the lobby of a 55-story office building
25 minutes and not one messenger went by
but it was not a dream
straddling the line between One and Two Union
had a dream I was sleeping
in the passenger seat of a parked car
and still got “pulled-over” by a cop
on parade duty who had nothing better to do
do what you do as if you didn’t have to
had a dream I was sleeping and woke up
in a shower curtain factory the smell
didn’t bother me but being hassled by
Rick Steves made me speak Chinese
toeing the line between participant and observer
had a dream I was sleeping
the clock was blinking 12:00 12:00 12:00
couldn’t tell if it was getting dark or light
couldn’t tell if she was coming or going
couldn’t tell if she was a he
but I knew it was time to leave
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720°
February 23, 2010
is it half full
or half empty
like 720 Olive
with 50% vacancy
round and round
full circle twice
720°
coming back around
like used bike parts 
the Bike Swap is Saturday and
in other news...this just in
Hugh MacLeod cartoon
Tuesday looks a lot like Monday
but it smells a little better
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consumer confidence chitterlings
February 21, 2010
two more than a few screws loose
a blown fuse a circuit short
wires crossed hither and thither
here and now beans and toast trial and error
and or a systematic process of elimination
the jobs get done
eventually but it’s obviously
not about efficiency although
it feels like it should be in this business
of immediate urgent package delivery
have you seen the Naj?
rationalized and justified ambidextrously
in the margins of utility blissfully ignorant denial
unhealthy attachment to the ephemeral
individual and disposable with liberty and justice for all
unique to the mass-produced masses
tenderfoot grape juice on ice
to entice the fruit fly lying in wait
to hibernate through the winter
to sleep perchance to dream
until conditions are right
right
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nobody says thither anymore
February 19, 2010
my very educated mother just showed us
every good boy does fine
but what about the nine pizzas?
it’s like diaper rash on your eyelids
it’s like playing cards with Cory’s brother’s kids
did they start out that way
and end up like this?
or
did they start out this way
then end up like that?
as well as other timeless questions
regarding the human condition
neither here nor there but somewhere
between restriction and liberation
thither and thither and thither
we’ve isolated the source of the odor
frozen fish sticks thaw in direct sunlight
tah tah tee-tee tah
tee-tee tee-tee tah tah
while authorities await toxicology test results, an unnamed source within the department stated that alcohol could have been a contributing factor. Malcolm Gladwell just as well as any kid off the street could tell you that there were a number of other factors contributing. Duh
the handrail slathered in lemon Pledge
leaves a little residue to take with you
a souvenir so to speak
the handrail was installed for your safety, please keep one hand on your business and the other one free in the event that we encounter unexpected turbulence or a sudden loss in cabin pressure…if your eyes go fuzzy and your knees buckle then you may find yourself in the dark on the floor of the bathroom in your girlfriend’s apartment
and you may ask yourself
how did I get here?
postnasal drip hits harder on the elevator
join the club take a number
vitamin D deficiency
get in line you’ll be fine
ants in my pants and piss poor posture
precipitated by years and years of use and abuse
in and for by and by a one-shoulder messenger bag
no regrets in retrospect still
wouldn’t want your job
on a day like this
borrowed stolen cited quoted
recycled paraphrased plagiarized hyperlinked
a brown bag shed from an expired roadmaster
tumbleweeds down the alley and into the street
on the stiff morning breeze that slices through layers
like a wood handled pizza cutter
calling into question wardrobe decisions
made nine minutes ago
with nine more hours to go
thither
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is there a Starbucks around here?
February 18, 2010
you can lead a horse to water
February 17, 2010
Pint Size Me
By Dick Cantwell
Keeping in mind the periodic approval by the Surgeon General of the United States that a daily moderate amount of beer, wine or spirits can lessen the risk of heart attack and other potentially stress-related maladies, I decided to run a personal experiment. Considering as well that even more of the population of Europe would have perished than did during the medieval glory days of the Bubonic Plague had there been no drink of pathogenic moderation (i.e. beer, as opposed to water) to see them through thirsty times (and remembering microcosmic triumphs of personal survival on my own travels to Latin America and Southeast Asia), I decided to limit my experiment to the consumption of beer. For one month I would ingest nothing but beer. Given that I’m a brewer and have many friends who are brewers in a beer-rich region, it would almost certainly be good beer (but it wouldn’t have to be); I would attempt to make nutritional decisions based on mealtime appropriateness related both to style and adjunct; and I would continue my exercise regimen of a mile swim as close to daily as I could manage (and speaking of managing, could I fill my poolside Nalgene with beer and get away with it?).
Naturally, and in the interest of risk reduction and objectivity I would have to set up a monitoring structure. I see my kids and a few trusted bartenders nearly daily; they’re used to seeing me with beer and wouldn’t be likely to judge me, and none of them is particularly shy about expressing their opinions. I would weigh myself daily and give myself a characteristically critical once-over from time to time throughout each day. Was there anyone else I should consider as an objective observer--my mom, or maybe a doctor? I didn’t think so.
The following excerpts from my diary--reasonably well-kept, considering—are taken indeterminately periodically and are selected on the strength of style more than substance. What am I, a scientist? I still need my friends to explain to me how electricity works.
Day 1—I Pop the Top on the Whole Thing
7:00 a.m.--In a celebratory mood, I begin the day (and my experiment) with a Belgian ale of lively effervescence and a sugary and satisfying mouthfeel—the Sugar Pops of beer, with which I have accompanied more than one 7:20 a.m. arrival to Amsterdam. I drop the...
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split the difference
February 16, 2010
how much iceberg lettuce does it take
to counteract one pound of bacon?
just add tomatoes and toast
how many Attaboys does it take
to makeup for one Ah Shit?
call WLM and ask for a conversion chart
nursing assistants and Don Johnson
share wardrobe decisions
in hospitals and assisted living facilities
in Miami Vice reruns and retirement communities
why else would anyone wear white pants
dogs don’t know the brand name on their tennis balls
and does it really matter what a Nittany Lion is
out of sight sort of out of mind
back beyond the bleach bucket
outside where the 10-tin brims with butts
stewed in brown rainwater runoff
where broken chairs retire and mops go to die
where lost souls stray looking for the men’s room
where no truer truths are told
the reality is
it’s all there it’s just not for you to see
conspiracy cover-up muff job
ranch dressing in a dixie cup
soap dispensers empty since August
appearances only appear to be
superfluous brushstrokes
up & down play on the X axis
side-to-side slop along the Y
split the difference
false alarm lucky charm that’s my weak arm
nondescript white Econoline
cheapass screw-top red wine faded
fermented misdirected re-elected
wiener dog mustard retractable leash
668 the neighbor of the beast
that address is across the street
courier interruptus
all dressed up and nowhere to go
standby for now
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Jack Sikma would do Hella
February 16, 2010
Looking back the morning after it seems I was out late. But it only felt that way because I got a solid 8 hours of drinking in before 8pm. I didn’t race but I did ride to the bar to sit and look out the window and note that Melrose Avenue runs into some poor routing and all roads lead to Cool Guy Park. After notarizing manifests for 2.5 hours between pints of IPA I was able to let gravity roll my bike down to Mobius for the ceremonious festivities after the race. There are now a few Dank Bags Jack Sikma Hella T-shirts rolling around town, sure to be conversation starters when spotted at the mall in Bellevue or at QFC on Mercer Island. I can’t give you race details or play by play or points scored or stuff like that. But I know Steve Young was involved in the results as well as some really bad porn and plenty of xtreme cheese flavored corn dogs… dip’em munch’em everybody loves’em.
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