Cowboy Poetry
We made a bunch of people make up poetry last night. Here’s Hank’s:
Oh give me a home
Where the buffalo roam
and the booze hounds push their bikes.
Where friends reunite
under cover of night
And we’re all dirty and muddy and smiles.
Soil, Soil Saloon!
Where the people play in the dirt
I love the things I learn at these events. I learn exactly how perverse my friend’s humor is. I learn that the mosquitos are out to eat us, but they are slow, and vengance is sweet as I smear their carcass along my thigh. I learn that some dude in Marin is making some neato clothings. I learn that cyclocross folks are going to have a bit of a coloring contest/drinking contest/movie night/party up/down/around. Or at least that’s what I gather from the flyer.
Yep, should be a fun place to get some beers, do some handing up and handing down. I say we all race our bicycles in and out of 111 minna. Or jump over beer bottles with them. Or perhaps perform elegant dance rituals with them. That’ll show them for letting the cyclists out of the park.
Well, we’ll see y’all next time, thanks for comin’ out. I do love those things, and photo people, whydoncha just leave some links in the comments sections and we’ll all go look at what you saw…
As a final note, inbetween events, we don’t bother much with a lot of posts. But, if anyone would like to put up an announcement for an event they’re doing, I’d love to oblige, seeing as more than 1 or 2 cowpokes frequent these pastures… singletracksavant at gmail dot com…
thanks cowpokes for putting the most rutinis tutinis party in the west up on your intronet thingy. looking forward to a stampede at the 111 minna gallery. jeremiah
jeremiah said this on October 16, 2009 at 4:27 pm |