The build goes on. The Sic Fiddy shapes up sharply in the shop. Frame form fixed and fomented. Fortunately, I have been fixated on facing the chiffonier in the water closet. Filing and forming the feature first, then fully coating it in a false appearance.
With Java in hand the tank arrived. Not as claimed but in hand. Tweaking, no twerking on the four banger a tad at a time. Styling it as a chopper light. Olde school, slight extensions, hard tail, single seat, not totally minimalist, forward leaning, rearward braking, clean but not pristine, aged but reliable, converted, spoked, heated, baked, and powdered. A sorta like me.
As the winter bodes well on the likelihood of no hooded man making his way after the ides, I am stroking tot get a roller by the time we celebrate the old lady’s birthday. Comstar conversion under way. Cut off, stripped and ripped, sourced the newies and still deciding on rim size. Bearings ordered front and back. Still humming and hawing on the pistons. Too cheap to just buy.
See a lotta da bros posting progress pointedly; sorry not that much out there in my bones. Chew wanna see it, chew know where I live. A few have. Either way it’s a dusty drama in da dungeon of deliverance. I will blow that out one fine and frosty day. Wind to suck the breath out of the dust of the saw. Pushed by fan and factory air fully flushing the socket pocket.
Sheesh seems I probably have sussed new stuff not even seen by some seeking solace. Some day I will do the spread. That which to sell and those which to install. What order? You got me on that one. Was a long time ago I pulled and ripped the iron from the steel the alloy from the aluminum. Well it only goes back one way. You will know if your head turns and you don’t. Only do it once. Ride forward, look forward, lean forward, forward your opinions, opine freely, free your bones, bone up on your order of operations, operate as you would do when.
Backada jamma, most things freed up. Went to the crook yesterday and lessened the pain by a sawbuck, but not happily pushing the limit as it was. He had them, I knew it. Not a one on the Bay of E or the Webbed Highway of Disinformation. Sossa I dig and prod now chaperoned in the back by a light saber toting Dooley. Would he know a right from a left, a Sic from a VT Shadow? Likelihood was not wagered on. Twas me that knew and found.
Will rebuild in time, once the dust has blown.
Slip a little sugar in today, Cynthia. I will take it French.
Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai.
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