It took some time to plenish the pouch for pounding, done now. Scramblers for the winter need fairing for the warmth. Bezzels will be bunged out for breathing.
So, after some time and other projects I find myself peening and pounding, rolling and reeling over the two side covers. Fending off the snow will be part of the need. Of course, who had heard of a Winter Scrambler. Will I need a trail pass? Or will I just pass the trails and go to trial?
20 gauge seems heavier now, .036 they say, was the weight of old cars. Now with the aluminiums, and the polymers, and fibrous carbon, those panels are a lot thinner than drinks at the ole’ watering hole. The ease of crimping cramps my styling of better than beaten boards in the past. Maybe there is a use for a torch?
Sitting on the bench at the bag, pounding my way to the curve. Would I do this easier on an English Wheel? Perhaps, but there is no fun in easy. Easiest way to get a punch in a pinch is to purloin it. Where is that letter now? Has it been repatriated to the owner? Or is it still lost in obscurity?
References are at your own risk, as are activities not sanctioned by the populace. Go strange, or go stranger I say. Stay odd then you can seem normal at the odd times. When does anybody ever look into the even times?
Back to banging Brad, make it black today.
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. #garagelurker2019
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