Half-Ass Adventures On 2 Wheels....

So I was invited to hear an acquaintance play at Standard & Poors at South Side on Lamar Wednesday evening. I hurriedly toss on the new Coyote Ugly shirt and and as I pass a mirror notice large white lettering on the back ...."White Trash". The location in Austin gave me the shirt last week and I never bothered to look past the front.......silly me.

Naturally I was in the midst of doing laundry and had everything in the process of needing to be washed, wet or in the process of drying. WTF -- I wore the shirt. Normally writing on the back of shirts don't phase me because the hair is so long. Except when you go to pull it back so you go to ride the bike.

For some odd reason every man of darker pigmentation got quite the giggle on the North Dallas Tollway. I was just thinking to myself -- "My grandfather would be so proud......yeah, right."

I think I'll gift that shirt to The Illustrious One. Guys can pull off "white trash" better than some shallow, vain girl whose wardrobe goal is to have Karl Lagerfeld & Chanel design the ultimate biker girl collection.

So I made it to the gig and Mr. Troll put on a good show. He played a collaborative song titled "Let You Go" which was recorded by garage musicians from around the country that he met up with on Garage Band .com -- everyone contributed their little bit. You can check it out at: http://www.garageband.com/artist/mistertroll

Mr.Troll is a curmudgeonly but tender-hearted hermit living longer than he ever expected to, therefore having to find new ways to be strange. Many years of playing to captive audiences in living rooms across the country has finally given him the courage to step out into the light of public exposure. What has the world come to?

Thursday night involved Johnny B and I meeting Magoo after his broadcast so we could ride together to KZPS Bike NIght at the Underground Ice House in Ft Worth. Kevin, the owner, was a bit miffed because everyone wanted to watch the first game of the Dallas Mavericks & Miami Heat in the NBA Finals. He felt that basketball is something you can watch without the TV sound on -- I agree.

The only downside to having Magoo as a friend is that I don't get any damn swag -- I love swag. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm a swag whore, because those types are the ones that bitch about what they've won. And it's kind of interesting because there is this whole sub-culture of radio groupies that go to all of the events and after enough appearances, the radio crew dubs them with names if they are particularly memorable.

I had a couple guys hitting on me and one was insisting that I dump the boyfriend. Ok -- you have a Sportster and I have a Low Rider. No offense, but the guy has got to have a bike close in power to mine. Otherwise, I would just embarass the guy -- plus I could quickly tell that I would have that guy dazed & confused in no time.

For some insane reason Johnny B decided we should ride up 35W to go home. We stop at a gas station across from Texas Motor Speedway for go-go juice and the dinner of champions -- Slim Jims, Doritos & Hersheys. Since I don't do fake meat that left me with some chips & chocolate.

The next thing I know we are on bloody 380 cruising through Denton. Finally, after miles & miles Johnny B points out the turn to the North Dallas Tollway. But I was so damn far north that it's a 2 lane under perpetual construction with no lights and it's 12:20 AM. Riding like that is so taxing it's not even funny. He bought me lunch today at Pappdeaux to make up for it.

I'm tired -- I've been working on something for 2 weeks straight. I think I need to chill out with my book, The Reckoning -- I love European historical fiction.