Piers and Beers II (last week!) not to be confused with two weeks ago or tonight! (ha! all that was written over a week ago, so 2 is three and stuff)

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Pollard and I flashing the K W, a hand gesture popular with the fixie gangs of the island. Word life.

I almost decided not to write a post, but only a really, really long title; but alas, I cannot insert photos into the title area; and what would a KWVelo post without photos be like? I’ll tell you. It’d be like a post with no run-on sentences or blurry photos that is written well. That shall not happen tonight; its late, I’m weeks behind on writing, its raining, I need to shower (which will be fun in the rain), I am tired and don’t feel like writing a whole lot. Here’s some pictures:

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We’ll start with Mike’s underwear. Yep, this blog has sunk to new levels of WTFness. This seemed funny at the time. Hopefully it”ll be funny tomorrow morning.

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Pollard has grown a tradition of doing a crazy trackstand at every ride. There’s another shot of him on the Simonton Pier a few posts back and I would hyperlink it if I wasn’t concerned with making this an exceptionally crappy post unto itself!

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The Western Union and the Moon. Can you guess which is in dry dock and which is a celestial object? I knew you couldn’t!

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Horray for Republic Underwear! Well done Mike! I hope, no… I expect and endorse, that someday this image becomes as iconic as The Kramer. This photo facinates me into realms of mispellings. The cigarette, the socks, the look of a disgruntled factory worker toiling away 12-16 hours a day; this should be on the freakin’ cover of Life. Well, if it still exists!?!? Does it? Are those shorts. short pants, coulottes or Gauchos?

Well, all the above was written a weeks ago and here I am now; hours away from tonights’ ride. Last week was St. Patty’s Day and my birthday and the two year anniversary of Fixed Gears and no ride. There’s a bunch of sweet photos from other rides I need to post…and will….on island time. Manana. or next week. wheneva. Anyways, we’re riding at 10pm, come on down to the shop 945ish for air and lube. or buy shit and make the bossman proud of me. or not. lets just ride and await pollards trackstandstarness for the night.

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