Project Sissy Pants.

Try to look like a tough guy driving this thing. It's just not possible. Pre-teen girls and little old ladies wave. Dallas hotties laugh.

It's all there boys and girls. 55 thou and some change on the odo. The roof leaks like a... well it leaks like a VW convertible top. New tires showed up yesterday. I spent a day with rubbing compound and I'm chafed. The car doesn't look any different by my private parts are raw.

It came with all the original receipts and owner's manual. I even have the warranty card. Hopefully I land a job soon or this little girl will have to go on the block.

This Wednesday Night...

$1 Domestic Bottles at the Service Bar.

Lower Greenville.

I'm broke and I'm raiding my wife's change jar.

Project ~ "Verpflichtet!"

HATTON / PACQUIAO

GO LOW RICKY!!!!

It's hard to believe that was just a short 16 months ago. It seems like a lifetime away.

May 2nd the pride of England is stepping back into the ring. It's time for Ricky to avenge his loss and lay claim to the title of best pound for pound fighter.... Or get knocked the fuck out again.

That was a great night. I'm thinking we should do it again.

Rembrandt's Dutch Pub

For those that don't already know...

Rembrandt's Dutch Pub has 1/2 price food on Tuesday nights along with a FINE selection of beer. A few of us have made this a weekly thing. Come on out if you're able. 7pm...ish.

HW

59 Hooligans...What it's all about

There hasn't been any real discussion lately on who we are and what direction we are headed. So for any noobs out there that may have stumbled upon our modest little site...I say WELCOME. Stroll through the archives to see what we've been up to. Look hard enough and you'll find our manifesto.

Here it is in a nutshell: We are a small group of motorcycle RIDERS. "Riders" is a very important word in this equation. You see...we intend to get on our motorcycles and go places. See the country...ride the world. We are all experienced riders that enjoy pushing our bikes and our skills to the limits. We are safe...but like to have fun as well. If at all possible, we don't trailer our bikes...the pride is in the ride. We meet up on Wednesdays and Sundays to enjoy a ride and a pint...or many pints. We try to organize longer rides and/or events as time allows.

We are comfortable as a very small...tight knit group. We aren't looking for huge numbers of people with matching tshirts...we're looking for comrades...people we can trust. If that means we have a small group...then so be it.

If this is something that sounds interesting to you...give us a hollar. We'd be glad to meet you and share a pint.

Ride safe.

Hollywood

mOnDAy... tHiS iS GoiNG tO sUCk...

The City of Hate... how appropriate. Well, I made it home... eventually. The bike tried to jump off the trailer TWICE. The front stop broke free from the shitty welds and became an interesting projectile on the I-45! I wish I wasn't watching the bike dance around on the trailer, because I would have loved to see the look on the asshole's face that had been screwing me out of a good open lane by admiring his own reflection in the shinny fuel tanks of a truck that was incapable of achieving the posted speed limit. This all transpired shortly after I got around him. Justice for him... nightmare for me. I pulled off to the side and gave him a Hooligan salute as he passed, a slight giggle ensued. I must have been given a pass for eating meat on Friday... your fault 'Wood... 'cause not 5 feet from where I stopped was the perfect 8 inch piece of 4x4 post I needed to rig up the trailer! Yeah, random. Anyway, my "rig" job worked for about 7 miles when I noticed that the bike was considerably closer to the truck than it was before. I thought... huh, that's not normal. I slowed once again to the side of the I-45. As soon as I rounded the bed of the truck, she lunged towards me as if expecting my warm embrace. What she got was a quick, "HOLY FUCK!!!" and a grab of the tether. If you've ever heard the story of a mother that lifted a car off of her injured child, then you can imagine what it looked like when I pulled the bike up from a horizontal position one handed. After I got all the parts of the equation to play along, again, I was on my way. It wasn't until 2 to 3 miles down the road that I realized just how much weight I pulled up with that one strap. Most of the time, my robust physique is less than impressive, but on occasion I surprise myself.

Anyway, all's well that ends well. I have a great time in a formally loathed city. So much, that it has moved up on my list of potential domiciles. My hat is off to the Wood'n Slip, a two man team capable of wrecking even the most cohesive of groups. Until we meet again... Slip, good luck with the delivery of life and 'Wood... good luck with the noise issues you have at the apartment. Maybe try some rugs or wall tapestries, they may help deaden the sound a bit.

Cheers.