Author Archive | soiledchamois

Dogs, Potatoes, & Vaccines

I rode my bike two days in a row.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA! Before uncomfortable white guy high fives and fist bumps are presented to me like we’re a couple of jaoffs watching fake basketball games in a Papa John’s commercial, let me say they both sucked. Sucked real hard.

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Talking GAS*

*Gear Acquisition Syndrome

On Things Not Really Cycling, Again

Back about five years ago, I had a Nikon D7100 DX camera, and for reasons that I can’t remember, I sold it. I THINK it was because I started getting into the Fuji X System and thought I would switch to full-on Fuji. As it turns out, I sold all my Fuji gear and went all-in on Nikon Full Frame. Going the opposite direction of most photographers and crap picture takers such as myself.

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Doctor Doctor

Monday was Monday, with not much to do other than husbandly duties (not code for sex) and a mid-afternoon appointment with the O.G. Mindbender. Tuesday was very Tuesday-like, barring a mid-morning appointment with The Crappest Doctor in The World1

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Soiled Image Tip: Balls & ‘Boli

I never promised you a rose garden. Or compelling images as part of the Soiled Image Tip series, and goddamn it, I am delivering on those non-partisan non-promises!

This post falls under if you give a person who likes taking photos (I’m hesitant to use the term photographer when referring to myself) a camera, they will take photos of it, no matter how mundane the task, and ain’t nothin’ more mundane than what I do on a Saturday night (for the record most of Saturday night, I thought it was Friday, Tuesday, or Sunday).

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Introducing: The Soiled Image Tip

In the year of our deity 2021, I believe the last thing the world needs is another blog post written by me. I get that, and I am diligently working with state and local authorities to bring an end to the thrice-weekly murderous assaults to the English language you so often see here. However, a 16-year-old blog habit is hard to break, so you might be stuck with me for a while.

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Mindbender and Me

MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)1

“Here, take this. It’s a mixture of horse placenta, baby spit, and the toenail of a sodomized goat, manufactured in the basement of a New Jersey pharmaceutical company/suburban home.”

ME

“Will it slow my metabolism down even further and cause me to gain even more weight like all the other shit has?”

MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)

“No, no, it was weight neutral in trials; it will just help with your want to leave the house. And who knows, it might even get you back on your bike or in the woods with your camera. Trade: Phenodihydrochloride benzelex. Street: The embalmer”

ME

“Balls. I’ll swallow it and run a mile.”

Me grabs handful of colorful pills and shoves them down his throat.

MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)

“Not those pills, THESE pills, those are my M&Ms, you stupid nipple. By the way, you still owe your $30 copay from our last session.”

Me proceeds to write a check with milk chocolate—now freed from its hard, colorful candy shell— smeared across his chubby face.

ME

“What’s today’s date again?”2

— SCENE —

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Feeling Nifty

Somehow it’s Wednesday, and I’m trying to figure out what the hell I’ve done since my last unneeded post. Oh yeah, nothing. Well, at least nothing all that physical, that’s for sure.

To be honest, I have been struggling to find the want to leave the house for anything other than food and beer over the last couple of months, but in recent days the combination of warmer temps (hello 45˚, yo!!), sun, and an appointment with Mindbender II (The Wrath of Kahn) to change some shit up has helped to point me in the direction of unfucking myself and mild—but acceptable—increased motivation and energy levels.

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Blinded by The Light

“Blinded by the light,
Woke up like a douche1 in the middle of the night.”

— Blinded by The Light, by Manfred Mann’s Earth Band

After days, nay weeks, of being a morbidly obese, mentally drained housebound hermit, I ventured out into the world on Friday morning for a snowshoe at the Forest Hill Nature Area. Hooray for being a functioning adult.

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Winter Continues

There’s really nothing like waking up to a fresh February snowstorm. Coffee tastes a bit better, breakfast is just a little more relaxing, and the urge to angrily shit on the floor like a caged ape and throw it at the first person that walks in front of the house is just a tad more indomitable.

If you think that throwing feecus is adjectivally extreme, just be glad I didn’t venture into the messy masturbatory world of caged primates and/or their evolutionary cousin, the overweight housebound adult male human in winter hibernation mode, AKA Auto-erotic-hibernation.1

That was probably more weather-inspired poo and goo talk than you or anyone other than me wanted. I digress.

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