John Hughes Took My Virginity

This is my first chance to sit down since I’ve been home for work. Toil, toil, toil. Tire buying trips, seat clamp spray painting, bike rides to pick up salads, dishes, shit boxes, garbages. Chores. All day. No complaints, this is what happens when you grow old. Another thing that happens is you start buying things you always wanted when you were little, but never had. Sort of like the halfway point to the mid life crisis, I suppose. This is what I speak of:

I never had a cool bmx when I was young. So I suppose now is the time. This is a 1983 Diamondback Silverstreak. My landlord gave it to Tim and I for helping him carry a set of stairs up a set of stairs. Think about that one for awhile. Anyway, I’ve been fixing this up slowly over time and it’s finally starting to take shape. Breaking The Ice, if you will. A few more parts and the Riverwest 80’s BMX gang will be a reality. Tim already has the pink Hutch “Hollywood Mike Miranda” logo suit. He’s ready.

I’ll skip the diatribe about how modern bmx is the lamest shit ever and how dudes need to do more cherry pickers and less “feeble grinds”. Because yeah, everyone reading this already knows that.

Let’s move on to Tim’s birthday. I recently learned that he had never once partaken of the fabled cuisine of the Mongolian BBQ. There’s one opening soon near our house, and their website’s URL is hilariously “gomongo.com”. I’m surprised Bill Danforth hadn’t already used the address. Anyway, the place wasn’t open yet, Tim was a Birthday Boy, we were hungry, Tim was a Mongo virgin, so we took the alternate and went to Dingus Kahn.

Apparently the Ma