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I’m never coming down…
It’s easy, bikes eclipse any and all modes of transportation in the city. And though one might figure, ” I need rainbow colored flare, skinny-exposed ribs, and a disengaging identity to be down to ride”, that is kinda true, but by no means a prerequisite. Oh and helmets? Albeit breaking my jaw, nose, and ego, I can honestly say pssh to all of that safety jazz…all you need is a funky hat to protect your noodle.
Most importantly, the bike. Before I delve though, let me use this opportunity to say:
Attention: My “borrowed” bike was stolen the other night outside my spot between the hours of 4am-4pm on Saturday. If you stole it…motherfucker its green, obviously I’m going to spot you out among the hipsters with fairy color jawns. And if you happen to see it or one of your scum bag friends that lives in Fishtown boosted my shit, reach out at kwankills at gmail dot com to receive a reward not to be valued at more than a 1/4. It looks like:
Now, the bike. While everyone downtown these days seem pressed on befriending anyone European because of the ensuing embarrassment that hood friends cause when the parents are in town from Scranton and such…I say eff both and bang out with the sexiest piece of foreign work to hit Stateside since Selma Hayek did a premature-stirring shimmy in that one Tarantino jawn. Awe…moving on: the Peugeot, love it:
And don’t be bamboozled into thinking fixed is the only way to go. Clean and classic, the Peugeot is like Joan Rivers, forever sexy.
***note…my sexy, one more time.
honest:
the words and blog have gone to shit lately because as i type this i’m forced to hold my screen with one hand and type with the other…long story, long party, etc. etc.
the other day i was in court waiting for my turn of injustice and was peeping the woman’s case before mine. she stood before the courts on a charge connecting her to stolen old bay seasoning and 1 strawberry kool aid pack. snickers were at an all time high.
Point: life is not that bad…I’ll be back soon with 5th + Prospect. Btw, I don’t think too highly of this:
Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.
-Oscar Wilde
Which I’m sure has much to do with M.I.A receiving the venerable accolade of Time Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People:
But just an afterthought of a villain, that will hopefully materialize into plenty of duckets along with world domination…Create something that peoples will want to mirror!
Anyways, painter Joe Holbrook represents the art imitating life side and I can most definitely dig his perspective, talent, blahblahblah too. Its like art for the peoples such as myself that could care a fuck less about the intrinsic beauty of boobies:
The Internets are loaded with time demolishing shit to knock you off your hustle…If you have no hustle though, peep Hamburger Eyes, I dig it. I mean its no You Porn, but visually audacious nonetheless and might motivate you to do art or move to San Francisco and act like you do.
Vanache…The name Vanache makes me think of this one homeless guy that walks around the city saying, “I could kill someone with my bare hands”. Why I will forever find that phrase more funny than threatening is beyond me. So Vanache’s blog is so thriller and will fuck your head up with cool runnings on a fresh layout, daily. I aspire to be that cool and die young.
And finally, what transforms my life, almost on a daily basis (talk about a good groove):
Reverse hibernation constitutes slipping off :
While lamping at your local park in:
With a chilled chick looking comfy in(specifically bottom right):
All the while catching summertime breezes to:
note…the fly walt whitman piece by Lola New York and fuck a porsche, I’ll take that up there.
Whatever. After being called a hipster all weekend by a dude that I’ve been down with since forever and a day when, I confess—my jeans snugly fit the jiggly bits(yoon yoon’s term for them) and a pair of Mickeys—I’ve decided to post not a thing remotely close to pastel colors, bikes(come back tomorrow tho), and dancing off beat. Cha Cha one time to this:
Marian Anderson-Lincoln Memorial, 1939
Esperanza Spalding-White House, 2009
Just shots that give me chills…
