17 October 2017

“What The Thing Became”
an essay by RYAN STARSAILOR

. . . which is a long-ass thing I wrote about going to New York to sleep on the couch of a guy I met on the internet ten years ago and hang out with my good and special friend, and then going to Los Angeles three days later to sleep in the trunk of a car and hang out with the very same friend . . . has been SCHEDULED to GO LIVE at some point in the next 48 hours!!

It is the first long-ass thing I have written in some time. The fact that it is not here right now will disappoint exactly one person in the entire known universe. BUT: Let this post serve as a receipt!

Yes!

Good-night, my little teeny tiny baby starchildren!! ☆彡

16 October 2017

He had brought with him an ability to see things as funny no matter how bad he felt. Everybody in the circle clapped, and, glancing up, startled, he saw the ring of smiles, everybody’s eyes warm with approval, and the noise of their applause remained with him for quite a period, inside his heart.

16 October 2017

sure, because i’m a fool . . . a deliberate, intentional fool, and that’s the worst kind. or didn’t you know??

16 October 2017

Oh! About a year ago I had a li’l secret forum called Donut Secret House. It was cool! There were some good threads, man. And then it kind of got ruined because of a few jerks on there.

I’m bringing it back!

I’ll let you know when!!

16 October 2017

Over the weekend, young Jackson and I took a motorcycle class in (on?) Alameda, which is an island near Oakland Airport. We had two extremely long classes (in an actual classroom!!) at Alameda College, and then two days on the range. The range was next to a naval shipyard / museum. It looked like this:

. . . across the way was San Francisco. That’s Sutro Tower on top of that hill.

The classroom part was real easy. A nice guy in a California Motorcyclist Safety Program jersey stood before us and talked about helmets and cornering and countersteering and all that shit. He gave us a little booklet where we were ENCOURAGED TO TAKE NOTES. I did so. My notes looked like this:

We were on the range for five or six hours on Saturday and Sunday. This is what it looked like:

We were even allowed to pick our own bikes. I ended up with a Kawasaki Eliminator and young Jackson got a Honda Nighthawk. The instructor wrote our names on the headlights. We were the afternoon class so our names were on the bottom. The names on the top belonged to the poor suckers who had to show up at 6:30 a.m. This is what our bikes looked like:

They made us take breaks a lot. It was sort of hot so we had to drink a whole bunch of water. At one point young Jackson and I went to Safeway and got coffee and li’l lunches:

(Yikes!!)

The second day was pretty bad and grueling and so on. It was very long and the instructor had been awake since 4 a.m. so he was exhausted and definitely really wanted to go home. We really wanted to go home too. About two hours into the class he noticed my front tire was going flat, so he put me on another bike. He said: “Man, that’s a good bike for you.” I thought, whoa man, cuz lookit this:

Notice my goofy distorted bubblehead reflection, and how I am holding my phone like your aunt would hold a phone. That bike sucked. I liked the Eliminator a whole lot more.

Well: There was an evaluation. It was weird and uncomfortable. This guy is shouting at you to do stuff and he’s holding a stopwatch and a clipboard and you suddenly start riding badly because everyone is watching and you’re being graded. At any rate, I passed the thing. They’re going to send me my certification in the mail.

I guess that’s that~~!!