Singlespeed & Fixed Gear - The Incoherent *****ing and Moaning Thread

So I've been awake for about 29 hours straight now. I've been studying the nature of consciousness (way more infuriating than it sounds) and writing papers about Mississippi for the past too long, with not enough beer in between (but some). Stuffing myself full of cold free DeMarco's sausage and pepper. "Nah, man, the crust is no good tonight. Order from Joe's." Flappin' wannabes. Everybody wants to be Dominic. So I finally rode back out to Brooklyn after spending the night in the sub-basement of an anti-semite oogling a girl with the clearest pale skin I've ever seen and face bones like a threadless stem and lips the color of overripe persimmons. A patch of broken glass along chrystie street. was sure I had a flat, but it was all paranoia. Someone should tell the pedestrians that the view is better on the PEDESTRIAN side of the bridge. You'd think they'd want to avoid asspoops like us. I stopped in at a beer distributor on Pacific and I asked the jolly old Italian behind the bulletproof glass "you got any 12-packs under 10 bucks?" He thought about this for a bit. Punched some buttons on a calculator. "yuengling. $10.34." "deal!" i yelled. he laughed. "hey yo!" he called. "get me a 12 of yuengling." a big ole black man in tims came out of the back. I followed him to the pallets of beer stacked on cement floors. The yuengling was in the back. He began climbing, doublehigh stacked cases of magic had, whole pallet loads of stella. He fished out a 12 from the top of the heap and clomped down. he handed it to me. "how'd you discover you could do that?" i asked. "what?" he said. i repeated myself. "i saw someone else do it." naturally. i jammed the whole thing in my back and rode over to 5th and 1. riding down Union got showed up by a snazzylooking track bike, blue and silver, sped past me and hipskid to a stop, veered onto Smith. whatta showoff. i've been awake for 26 hours screw you. knocked on sam's door. we dranks some beers as he screenprinted a plate from a lamppost. drank some more beers, listened to some mississippi brown hat fred mud on vinyl. drank some more beers, talked about our plans for biking from instanbul to berlin this summer. oh god i hope so. sam called the car service for laguardia, we smoked what he couldn't fit in his secret stashing apparatus. his roommate bought him a model 10 speed in chinatown for christmas, working drivetrain and brakes and kickstand the whole bit, painted it white and stenciled decals just like his peugeot. what a brilliant gift. the car came, i said goodbye, maybe i'll see you in instanbul, climbed on my bike, rode down 5th to 13th, turned right, began thinking about that dude on union, why not just roll as fast as i can, i can always skid to a the bottom of the hill, what am i a sissy, crank crank crank fast fast fast light changes across 4th, hard left turn southbound, should be slowing down, no idea what's up ahead, stop accelerating at least, apply a little backpressure, you stupid macho piece of crap, what are you trying to prove, come face to rump with a whole block of backed up traffic holy booger i'm going to fast skip! okay that's something now skid! whoops what's that i feel.... loose where's my control my left pedal is spinning without my foot what's happened did i break my chain no i can still resist with my right pedal slow down slow down veer into the left turn lane two less cars worth of backed up crisis averted for now broken toestrap going fwap fwap fwap veer west against traffic down 14th onto the sidewalk onto the sidewalk yes slow slow hill slow okay control right left back on the pedal resist slow control right here dismount stop done.

whew. at least my roommate left me a couple hunks of toblerone. this could have been much worse. thank you, i haven't slept in 29 hours eaten in 17 or been sober since 3 pm. ready set drink. i can't hear you. drink! that's it. and cue awesome country music and sleep.

toblerone!

Man, I oughta try to become an insomniac or something.

If you inserted more words with sexual connotations, we could have the beginning of a Joycean epic, or a facsimile of one.

there is zero chance of me reading a block of text that large with no paragraphing.

there is zero chance of me reading a block of text that large with no paragraphing.

yes.

so just some yuengling & toblerone -- sure you're not doing any speed besides your bike? hmm..

my water tastes humid...

too long. but here's the words i liked:

yuengling
snazzylooking
Flappin'
instanbul
fwap fwap fwap
sleep

so damn long.
I can't read more than 2 lines before my eyes dry out.

just go to sleep.

you lose.

there is zero chance of me reading a block of text that large with no paragraphing.
+1

give the guy a break, kids. i obviously didn't read it but noticed there's at least lots of punctuation.

i read it, it's fun.

is pissing really a "bad word"?

guess not

he must have said *****ing

Was there always Yuengling in NYC? For some reason I was worried there wasn't (I'm moving there soon) and was very happy to find out it is there.

Was there always Yuengling in NYC? For some reason I was worried there wasn't (I'm moving there soon) and was very happy to find out it is there.

there is. but i do know there's none in boston....

Man Boots...you've had a rough go at it lately.

Instanbul!

(y'all have short attention spans)

Instanbul!


...was constantinople

sweet story! ...cycling in berlin is the **** , would have loved to have had a fixed when i lived there.
good luck in getting there...from istanbul??!!

haha good read. that beer place is good stuff!

...was constantinople

maybe, but now it's... Instanbul! like instant coffee (!), but, you know - a city intead.

you could almost be jack kerouac of the fixed gear set except there's no sex, drugs, infidelity or jazz so no one would buy that book.

you could almost be jack kerouac of the fixed gear set except there's no sex, drugs, infidelity or jazz so no one would buy that book.

There has to be a difference between Kerouac and drunk a.d.d.

Well...on second thought...

Drunk a.d.d. isn't trying to be anything more than that.

Analyis of the original intention



...As the wind dances with me , pushing wheels making waves of earth and laying waste to the pavement.
To much to drink, can't breath if i just sit down for a minute .......................................................
................................................................................"Are you okay? " she said........................
.................................."Yes".................................................................................................




I lay awake, yet I'm still dying on the inside. Tomorrow I ride again, but will drink naught but the wind,
...not the wine.

"I lie awake."

wow. that was some awesome reading.

get some sleep.

Consciousness? Did you happen to figure that little problem out?

Consciousness? Did you happen to figure that little problem out?


Yeah, it's all about epiphenomenalism.

Was there always Yuengling in NYC? For some reason I was worried there wasn't (I'm moving there soon) and was very happy to find out it is there.

Yuengling Just arrived here in NYC around 3 years ago. I rejoiced when I was able to go into a store and get a six pack of it.

It only took 3 years of living in Philly to get me hooked on that beer.

Btw, great read boots

Yuengling Just arrived here in NYC around 3 years ago. I rejoiced when I was able to go into a store and get a six pack of it.

It only took 3 years of living in Philly to get me hooked on that beer.

Btw, great read boots


Two problems with lager in the nyc (yeah, lager = yuengling): 1) It's not a deal. It may not be as over priced as other beers, but quality/price ratio isn't what you're getting in philly. 2) You can't walk up to the bar keep and ask for a lager. S/he will look at you cross-eyed.

what's hipskid (confused)

"I lie awake."
oh, please. who the **** cares?

oh, please. who the **** cares?


If threads of the past weeks are any indication, a fair amount of people do.
Paging Terror in Pink and Shants?

But, regardless, in a thread that I saw as evolving into a discussion on a piece of writing, I figured I'd chime in with a correction of a very common error.
Sorry to offend.

If threads of the past weeks are any indication, a fair amount of people do.
Paging Terror in Pink and Shants?
yeah, i spent about 20 minutes contributing to that nonsense.



But, regardless, in a thread that I saw as evolving into a discussion on a piece of writing, I figured I'd chime in with a correction of a very common error.
Sorry to offend.
but it wasn't incorrect. pay attention: a past-tense clause about "l[ying] awake," followed by a present participle clause about "dying on the inside" is acceptable. it's stating what happened in the past ("lay awake") with a present metaphysical state ("dying on the inside").
"I fell asleep, yet I'm still dying on the inside" makes sense.
"I fall asleep, yet I'm still dying on the inside" does, too.

"I lay awake, yet I'm still dying on the inside. Tomorrow I ride again, but will drink naught but the wind..."

I don't agree.
Which is not to say you're wrong.
I read it as present tense.
"Lying awake" is the present action, not past.
But, I guess therein lays the confusion with Lie vs. Lay.

"I lay awake, yet I'm still dying on the inside. Tomorrow I ride again, but will drink naught but the wind..."

I don't agree.
Which is not to say you're wrong.
I read it as present tense.
"Lying awake" is the present action, not past.
But, I guess therein lays the confusion with Lie vs. Lay.

"l[ying] awake" can be interpreted as present or past action, regardless of the intent of the author. we both have warrantable claims here, i'm just not sure why you made the "correction" in the first place.

eats, shoots & leaves

"l[ying] awake" can be interpreted as present or past action, regardless of the intent of the author. we both have warrantable claims here, i'm just not sure why you made the "correction" in the first place.

Does 'because I felt like it" suffice?

Boots... you study of the philosophy? I feel your pain, I haven't slept for more than 4 hours straight in over a week... First the morality of military intervention, then an exam on propaganda, then an exam on the philosophy of cognitive science and artificial intelligence, then a mind-f*ck of a paper on frege's theories of function concept and object... now my final exam on philosophy of language summarizing the views of Davidson, Austin, Putnam, Donnellan, Kripke and tying it all back to russell and frege. I feel like I've been brain punched... or mabye I wish I was... oh well sweet release will be my by the end of tomorrow. I plan on brain punching myself with a big old bag of the green stuff and as much booze as my body will hold and then some. I haven't had fun in weeks!!!!!

Edit: 'cept for riding my bike to and from work and the library... although my toes and fingers haven't been enjoying it I sure as hell have :)

Oh btw... philosophy students are the new arts students here on BF... don't say I didn't warn yah.

Does 'because I felt like it" suffice?
yeah, that one always works. :D

yeah, that one always works. :D

I'm gonna come out now and apologize for being a dick.
I felt the "but it wasn't incorrect. pay attention" remark was condescending and put me on the defensive.

I'm gonna come out now and apologize for being a dick.
I felt the "but it wasn't incorrect. pay attention" remark was condescending and put me on the defensive.

sorry about that. i let my internet-ego get the best of me there. dick #2.

group hug!

yay!

eats, shoots & leaves

grammar sticklers may read this: http://www.newyorker.com/critics/books/?040628crbo_books1
excerpt from review of said book by The New Yoker:

The first punctuation mistake in “Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation” (Gotham; $17.50), by Lynne Truss, a British writer, appears in the dedication, where a nonrestrictive clause is not preceded by a comma. It is a wild ride downhill from there. “Eats, Shoots & Leaves” presents itself as a call to arms, in a world spinning rapidly into subliteracy, by a hip yet unapologetic curmudgeon, a stickler for the rules of writing. But it’s hard to fend off the suspicion that the whole thing might be a hoax.

The foreword, by Frank McCourt, contains another comma-free nonrestrictive clause (“I feel no such sympathy for the manager of my local supermarket who must have a cellarful of apostrophes he doesn’t know what to do with”) and a superfluous ellipsis. The preface, by Truss, includes a misplaced apostrophe (“printers’ marks”) and two misused semicolons: one that separates unpunctuated items in a list and one that sets off a dependent clause. About half the semicolons in the rest of the book are either unnecessary or ungrammatical, and the comma is deployed as the mood strikes. Sometimes, phrases such as “of course” are set off by commas; sometimes, they are not. Doubtful, distracting, and unwarranted commas turn up in front of restrictive phrases (“Naturally we become timid about making our insights known, in such inhospitable conditions”), before correlative conjunctions (“Either this will ring bells for you, or it won’t”), and in prepositional phrases (“including biblical names, and any foreign name with an unpronounced final ‘s’ ”). Where you most expect punctuation, it may not show up at all: “You have to give initial capitals to the words Biro and Hoover otherwise you automatically get tedious letters from solicitors.”