Jughead's Party

What sounded like helicopters landing turned out to be some big ass motorsickles arriving at Jughead's weekend bash. A few minutes later there was an awful lot of rubber burning and tire squealing to be heard, so I drove up to investigate. The motorsickle riders turned out to be Kevin and Keith on their Harley's. They were also responsible for the tire squealing. Well, the commotion attracted Wheelie Kid all the way from Hemmingford. He immediately got mightily insulted and riled at the high decibel levels emanating from the bikes, so he went to work removing the exhaust system from his Camaro. Wheelie Kid was also complaining about the mosquitoes so he went down to the road, locked the front wheels and created his own ground level burnt rubber cloud system which immediately took care of any and all insects within a 5km radius. The under 20 year old party attendees where mightily impressed with this display and Wheelie Kid was immediately propelled to celebrity status.


Kevin gets ready for the initial smoke show. He is relatively sober at this point.



Wheelie Kid goes to work in the driveway. Once the exhaust system was removed there were some very serious flames issuing from beneath the car.


Keith had this chrome version of his nut-sack created from a plaster mold and proudly displays it in an offensive dangling fashion from the back of his bike. The extra long tail pipes are not for show, but rather used in wheel barrow fashion to push the bike home in case of breakdowns or collision.

Conflagration Celebration

Well it looks like the traditional Bomb-Fire will have to be postponed for a couple of reasons. It appears that a wild turkey has taken up residency in the burn pile and has commenced to raise a brood of chicks from within the safety of the brambles and branches. Annie and I see her patrolling in the back field by the river everyday. Also, the weather is not very bomb-fire friendly and I fear that our tinder would not properly ignite even with the aid of the usual heavy dosage of petroleum products. As well, Cousin Grover and Friend Binky have gone south to open the camp in Vermont. So I will keep everyone posted as to the official date. Meanwhile, here are some pictures from the festivities last year. Please take note that there is no Photoshop magic going on. The burn pile was the size of a small house and it generated flames ranging from 60-70 feet in height at its peak. As guests arrived, they noted that a festive orange glow could be seen on the horizon from several kilometers away. The oxygen requirements of the fire were so intense that several small twisters were spawned as a result. Yes, the local fire department and municipal inspector did show up again in order to verify my permit.

News Report May 13&14

Scrap Update
A rather productive weekend of scrap procurement. My truck suffered one casualty during the last mission as a sidewall was compromised on my front tire. However, the Izuzu Pooper still giveth even while in death, and offered up a replacement tire.


Farm Update
Our batch of 56 chicks (broilers for the freezer) arrived on Friday. I went to check on them this morning before work-mainly so I could track some fresh chicken shit into school-and heard a distinctive squeaking sound. The genesis of a new rat colony concealed within the walls has apparently been developing for quite some time now. Oh, how my pulse quickened! I dug out my rat hunting gear and dusted off my setting pail. My mission takes on new significance and importance with the defenseless brood of chicks to protect from the treacherous jaws of Mr. Rat. Tonight my calling will be realized yet again. Tonight I hunt rat.

The Old Man and the Sea.

My version of Ernest Hemingway's story will be titled: "The Scrapman and the Car". I guess I discovered the limits of my receiver hitch. The weight of the car being loaded onto the trailer tore the rivets and weld from the plate on my bumper. Fortunately this little tragedy happened while still in the yard and not out on highway 30.
Richard just happened to have another bumper in stock. He usually has about 2 or 3 of anything you might need for a 6.2. He also has an impressive inventory of parts and pieces for the following: Volkswagen cars, most makes and models of riding lawn mowers, 1950-1970 Russian Military vehicles, Massey Ferguson/Harrison tractors, and landing gear for earlier Space Shuttles. Lately, however, he has been specializing in fashionable eyewear.




So my truck is back online now and ready for upcoming scrap missions. There was a lot of beating and hammering involved to make the new bumper conform to installation standards, so I was cursing myself for all the caked on mud and dirt from past wheeling excursions that landed in my eyes, ears, mouth and hair while crawling around under the truck.