Super Walk 2007.......aka....wind walker

Hello B's & G's


I am happy to report that Mike has greatly improved on his walking score. He was training for weeks to achieve his goal of more then 5 miles. The next step is to pass the mandatory drug screening and a sperm count. Also we must screen for head lice. After that he will be inducted into the Professional Walkers of America.

My latest results are in.

12/06/07
Miles: 12.014

12/04/07
Miles: 11.367

I am feeling better now that I am back in full form after my life took a turn into the ditch. General fuckery aside, things are looking up. It is not my fault. IT IS NOT MY FAULT.

Walk on America……walk on

We Like Eachother: Fudgie and me!

It's hard to be an orphan in Austin. Often we think to ourselves, where's my mom, where's my dad? Usually the answer is prison, so our souls dry up a little bit more.

But!!! We may not have our parents, but we have each other. Pour a little wine on it. Put in some hor'dourves in there.

Fighting

What’s up, dudes? F---, it’s been a long time. I know, I know. Where the hell’s Greg been? Let’s just say I got tossed in the slammer and leave it at that. Don’t worry, don’t worry. It’s all good. Just…don’t ask. Let’s just say there was a B and E, a construction yard, and some propane, and leave it at that. Don’t worry about me, friends. I’m out, I’m out baby! Ha ha! I’m out and I’ve had a few and I’m just chilling out right now at the Dan’s house (p.s. I don’t think Dan appreciates my drunkenness). But who cares? It’s all good, that’s what I’m saying. I’ve got my dog Pep, I got myself, I got the clothes on my back, and I got my undying, constantly rewarding hatred of yuppies to see me through. I’m a fighter, I’ve been fighting it out on the streets, fighting it here on the site. I can’t complain. Life’s…well, okay, I do have one thing to say. Those beds in prison, man, are they small. Could we do something about that? I mean, come on. Jesus! Well, I better get moving on, my pups barking and Dan’s yawning a whole bunch.

Same old same old,

respect to the Barnyard,

Greg

The Lamb Ran Away With the Crown

Mike, guest walker extraordinaire, posting an improved score of 8.628 miles. Holy fuck! That's a whole mile more than my last walk and a whopping 3.7 miles more than Casey's Saturday Shame Spectacle. Of course, my score is a paltry one-half of Casey's standing record, 15.9 miles. So the Burger King crown remains perched atop his head, not mine, a fact that causes me to fill saucer after saucer with fat tear droplets. Until next time, O silver-legged one, but be warned: I'm training with Mark Knopfler.

Super walk 2007....aka.....wind walker

Hey all,


I have some sad results to report. Saturday was a dismal showing of walking force. This is not an excuse but in the spirit of sportsman ship I must confess that my mind and feet were elsewhere. You can’t really walk when you heart is broken. The Professional Walking organization has granted Mike a re-walk. I will keep you updated on his results.


12/1/07

Miles: 4.9
Steps: Mostly on my heart..

Keep Rambo in Mind

Hey all,


I have recently given up much of my time to an emotional outlet that did not pay off. Vague, but there it is. In the process I have neglected a project I have been working since this past summer. I am writing an alternative narrative to First blood. Not unlike Brad Neely's Harry Potter thing but more poignant. Over the course of months ahead I will post my chapters. Remember this is to be read during First blood. Also keep Hawkwind’s “Warrior on the Edge of Time” in mind as well.

Chapter One.
Music: Hawkwind, song one in the background during intro.


America. Placid, stagnate and dead. The burden of capitalism buries our fallen heroes. We are failures in the eyes of the world. Burnt earth and nightmarish daydreams fortify the country side. A lone man, with jeans tucked into his boots, freshly delivered from war with images of violence and toil dancing in his head; A gallant lion-maned steed who carries the weight of America’ s dreams on his broad shoulders looks down in contempt of what lies before him.

While Children scuttle about below, he envisions a future he has yet to comprehend. He only knows what direction the stars are telling him to navigate. Onward he presses towards his destiny.

Despite this celestial compass he asks the youth of America to help him locate the back of the house. Blindly trudging forth with no help from the children he makes his best educated guess.

He hopes in vain that there are paddle boats in his future.

Attn: Austin

Manifesto set to music.