Things are tight and that ain’t no news, it’s effecting everyone. I don’t feel the crunch as much as most people because of the ‘profession’ that I have found myself in. Painting in of itself isn’t a lucrative venture no matter how fat the economy is. Especially when the paintings you are offering up aren’t what the folks with the cash to part with don’t really want to show off a painting that stands on the precipice of vulgar or just flat out falls off the edge.

  The prices are actually cheap for collectors but for you average Joe they seem to suck up cash better off going to something else like rent, bikes, beer or hookers…but I keep painting just the same…sales becoming more and more in frequent as this country of ours falls further and further into a third world country. Before you know it we are going to be lying around our lean-to’s with flies crawling across our eyeballs.

  It’s a time not of prosperity but of survival, myself included. Things have to be done whether we like it or not. Our New York strip steak appetites are now satisfied with pork and beans.

  So as I sit here staring at a monster sized canvas that I had to way underbid just to have something that will bring the groceries coming and I am wondering what is next. How will I keep this thing that is already faltering from just flat out collapsing? I have been painting forever and I haven’t even had a passing thought to just giving up. It’s been a starvation riddled ordeal to stay afloat for the last few years but now the chips are down I REFUSE to just call it quits.

  I got myself some digs in the Hamsteak and a studio that I am pretty happy with and want to keep. The work, however, has slowed so I can’t just sit around and wait for it to come in, I’m going to go out, get it and offer it at ‘road prices’ or this whole thing will just completely run out of steam and die. Fuck That!

  I have been advised on multiple occasions that riding my bike is not in the cards if I want to preserve what is left of my back. That means riding at all not even a thought that my dumb ass would be making a plan to ride it all over Hell’s creation for thousands of miles in one trip. I’ve been pretty good on my back for about two years now and frankly I just can’t take it any more. I have a choice as my back seems to be getting worse and not better. The rational decision would be to keep off the Latowski an play it safe. Maybe getting a few more years out of standing up gracefully and not ride again. Or, I can take what’s left of my failing spine, plant it in the saddle and just ride it into oblivion. I don’t like the idea of not doing the long miles so going for broke…blaze of glory…Damn the Torpedoes and all that shit. If this is my last ride so be it but sitting on my ass and reminiscing about the glory days don’t sound all that palatable so I I’ll go out on two wheels if that’s what it comes to with no regrets.

  Besides, the Latowski is all brandy new and getting set up like it’s ready for the Dakar so not riding it seems like a chump’s way out. My last cross continental ride makes me feel like a weak assed pussy every time I think about it and there is no way on fuckin’ Earth that’s the way I’m ending it. I tried to end the road for as long as I have been able and I guess that just didn’t sit with me.  I’ve been a God Damn moron my whole life so why change the path now just because a suit says so. I’d rather ride it all into the shitter than wonder if I still had that one last ride in me…I have to find out.

  So my plan is taking shape. So far I plan to run from Arizona to visit my brother in Jersey and go to the Road Lords gathering in Hoboken in his ’46 Windsor. I’ll be there for about a week or longer depending on when I leave AZ. From Northern Jersy I’ll take a couple of days and hit the Smoke Out…this time riding. Not riding there is like going to a whore house without a rubber. After S.O.E. I will be hopefully be riding back across the country to attend Born Free in Cali. I should have about a week to get there, then back to AZ. to catch up on any commissions that I pick up on the road.

  Sturgis will be the next stop. I’m riding up at my own pace, staying until it sucks and riding back home. I’m just goin’ to be a guy on a bike with a sleeping bag, camera and a shit ton of business cards. The intention of this whole thing is to gather work for the winter…and to ride…not necessarily in that order.

  Except for SOE I will be going hotel free for the entire trip. I really don’t need to shower that bad do I? Besides, TouraTech hooked me up with these awesome panniers so I can’t rightly plant my ass in a room now can I?

  The biggest hurtle (besides common sense) that I have to overcome is making sure I have the Jack to make it all happen. I have rent that has to be paid before I leave, money for the trip (I’ll settle for one way) and starting to talk to people along my route that might be interested in a painting or a charcoal that I will shoot while on the road. Simple enough *sic*.

  I will insist that this is all to keep my business afloat but I really think this will be my last long ride, maybe not, but I either case I’m doing it.

  So any of you that might have suggestions or may be interested in commissioning a road portrait get a hold of me. This is really a shot in the dark with old ammo but I’m committed at this point so fuck it. Maybe it’ll give me a chance to finish this fuckin’ book.

  Hit me up, buy prints for fuel money, call me a fool and watch this retard go! Gone Baby…real gone!!  “GTP”

 

AmericanMotherFucker.com

hamsteakdawg@gmail.com

  You’ve seen these people that others in the motorcycle ‘community” make a big fuss over when they stop by an event. Did you ever say to yourself…”hey, that person on that bike is a big deal…” followed shortly after with”…why the fuck are they?” Well, I have…and it makes my blood boil!

  Am I being a hypocritical whiney fuck? I doubt it because anyone worth a fuck will question somebody’s ‘celebrity” status and not just get all up in their shit just because they claim to be a big deal. I personally don’t even know what a ‘somebody’ is! Maybe they had their picture taken next to their motorcycle a lot, maybe they built some dogshit bikes that were all the rage with the billet set or maybe they just planted themselves in front of every camera lens they could find and then splattered those images all over the interweb. You stand next to somebody that people recognize enough and eventually the cameras will start to focus on you…it happens.

  What the fuck does this have to do with any kind of biker community…and what the fuck is a biker community, now that’s a joke! There is no integrity in being famous for being famous…what is your contribution to anything at that point. There ain’t one.

  I have a few friends that are pretty high up in the celebrity biker cast system and the only reason I consider them friends is because they bring something to the plate. The ride their asses off, build cool bikes, can host the shit out of an event or were actually doing something that caught peoples eye.  They command some respect because of what they were doing previous to their seemingly sudden rise to the spotlight, not just in the spotlight because they were standing close enough to its glowing rays to make someone notice they were there. You know the cunts I am talking about; there are gaggles of ‘em.

  Kiss a few asses and sit suavely by your neat-o motorcycle that you planted obviously right in the middle of those that might think you are just the coolest thing since Along Came Bronson went off the air and somebody is going to take your picture. Do it long enough and maybe you’ll sell a few t-shirts. Keep on doing it and eventually some dick like me will call your bluff.

  I find them as annoying as venereal warts and if they all disappeared tomorrow we could get back to the business at hand, working our asses of just so we can get behind the bars of our sleds and ride the shit out of them.

 I write for a magazine, a real good one (The Horse) and paint some pictures, if I didn’t write for the magazine people wouldn’t know me but I would still paint and try to make enough cash to dump in my bike just the same. My status in this mess is only justified because I am a fuck up and damn proud of it. I would be fuckin’ up whether people read about it or not. I just find great pleasure in making fun of myself on a grand scale. People recognizing me doing it in a magazine just makes it all the better.

  If I dropped the obscenities, flippin’ off the cameras and generally stopped being so abrasive I might get a bit more positive recognition but you can eat my average white guys sized dick because all I’m trying to do is cut through the shit and hang with some REAL people. I try to gravitate towards people with integrity, people who know their ride and then ride the shit out of them even if the cameras aren’t around.

  I know people that avoid recognition like the plague even though what they are doing is really off the hook. They build bikes, ride, have a good time and do it all without even a hint of dismay that the media didn’t flash their fucking cameras in their direction. They go unnoticed…but they are what this shit is really all about.

  I shove my opinion and my painting crap down people’s throats because I’m just trying to make a living doing the only things I know how to do, paint pictures and tell people to go fuck themselves. I am trying (rather fruitlessly) to offer something for my recognition. I’m alright and the two things I am able to do but by no means am I striving for any kind of celebrity status. I hit low level cult status and even that is a bit much to take…but I ain’t bitchin’ about it… I kind of like meeting the people that can relate to the things that I do and if I make someone feel like whatever struggle they are going through is worth it than that’s an added bonus.

  But I got something to say to all those self proclaimed celebrities out there…go away…leave us alone. You’re not brightening our day by blessing us with your presence, as a matter of fact; you’re making the whole place smell a little south of cheese!

  So the next time you see someone that is famous mulling around the seas of cool sleds ask them what they are famous for. It just might rattle their cage a little bit. Question recognition, strive to do the best that you can, support our troops and let’s get some FreBreeze in this place…it still smells like poser in here! “GTP”

 

AmericanMotherFucker.com

...I had every intention of getting some shit off my chest on this fuckin' bloggity blog today but I was moving some shit into the fridge of the Hamsteak and stumbled upon some mushrooms. I didn't think they would be any good...I was wrong! It took me like an hour just to write this! I'll see what comes of this mess now. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!!!!!   "GTP"

I settled in for the last couple of years and have been systematically losing my mind until it just snapped like wet bacon. I’ve been taking it slow and minding my faggot of a back and, well…fuck my back. I need to point my 21” towards the horizon again. I’m gonna fuckin’ hang myself by my dick if there ain’t some long tarmac under my frame rails soon.

   I ain’t (however) going to give up the things that make up my home base here in Payson. I like the puny empire I have built up these past two long ones. I got myself set up pretty well here in my old Winnebago and studio in the woods. To be honest though, if I don’t get my ass out of here again the whole thing will tank.

  Shit just ain’t sellin’ these days and if I really latch on to that complacent attitude that’s makes you think that the work will just come rollin’ in it won’t and it ain’t…so I better grab my gear and my camera, jump on my old Shovel and start looking. I got to get to rollin’ some long miles to get some cool projects going for back at the studio which I have aptly named The Fools Den.

  I don’t know how far I am going to push it but I know I’m at least tentatively riding to The Smoke Out and back. The bike will make it but my pansy ass spine ain’t getting’ no better, as a matter of fact I think it might be getting worse. I better get back on the road before I just can’t. I ain’t  goin’ to wait for the decline, I like the splendid ribbon of black pavement laid out in front of me so I want to hit it while I can.

  Wow, that was truly inspirational; I’m all a flutter…gay!

  The bike is running solid after sucking up every last penny I had. Rent might squeak by but only barely and I’m thinkin’ about takin’ a 5000 mile trip. I am a true businessman.  What the fuck am I supposed to do, not go on what might be my last long ride on a fresh bike because I am flat fuckin’ broke…eat my ass! I just got to figure it out and fake the rest. 

  I mean, what would you do if you were in my swamp smellin’ shoes? I don’t have no applicable skills except painting, writing a bit and tyin’  the whole thing together with a bike  I ain’t even qualified enough to not get fired in a paper hat wearin’ job! I paint and say fuck you, that’s my qualifications, anyone hiring?

  So I am goin’ out on a limb, I feel like this has to be done. I’m hoping to do what I have always done, get some commissions, maybe find a few originals, send people to my website which should have daily updates of my where abouts and hope enough fuckers pay enough attention to maybe make THIS trip not end in total disaster. That’s the plan, I thought of it while I was riding through the canyons this morning.

  I don’t know why this seems so imperative that I do this now but who the fuck am I to ignore the signs and just run my life like some internet business. I ain’t wired like that.

  So anyway, I’m back to writing on this blog again. I don’t care how many people will pay attention but I would like to make this an interesting adventure so folks from across the country readin’ it (and buyin’ prints) and checkin’ out my work might land someone a nice painting for their wall and me with just enough money not to run out in East Bumfuck but still fly under the radar.

  I’ll have updates on the progress on how things formulate daily so drop on back tomorrow. I show you what I am doing that has people yelling “BAGGER”…yea…the douchebags! Talk at ya tomorrow…”GTP”

 It’s the end of the year motherfuckers and what a tits up grand tour it’s been. I built a home with a 440 in it, got me a website, found kick a ass studio with a rent I could afford if my only job was collecting aluminum cans, blew my bike up, sold off my portfolio for next to nothing’ ,got out of debt, work is to be had and am piecing together the Latowskis motor with a hot stroke to it. Hot shit…I forgot to breathe.

  As I’m sitting in the pines and its 70 degrees one day away from the new year. I built a fire because I am in dire need of some pyro-theropy. This is my digs and I’ll be ear fucked by a guy named Boris If it ain’t a hot shit situation.

  I just smoked some lousy swag out of a Clamato can and everything is just now soaking in. I did it, I made it though one of the stupidest years in my life and you can suck my balls if you don’t think that’s somethin’

  I ain’t one for makin’ nice but I hope everyone worth a fuck has the amount of personal success that I did in the past three hundred and sixty five.  Anybody worth his salt seems to have come through this year laughin’ and that in its own is enough.

  Man shit, it’s all about makin’ it on your own terms these days and I think that’s exactly the way it ought to be. Go cry up your favorite goat’s ass we ain’t got time to hear the noise. Make it no matter how you can as long as you ain’t fuckin’ someone over.

  I made a lot of noise myself so I ain’t above anyone but I just made noise to get things rollin’ and I did, without one hand out…but with plenty of offers. Thanks for letting me shove my business down your throat even when you did feel like pukin’ it all up.

  Although the recent past was by no means dismal I know that this summer will be all kinds of bright and shiny with a bit of 50 weight smeared on it because that’s the way I like it. Bikes , chilllin’ in the wild frontier and doin’ it all because I just fuckin’ want to.

 Livin’ at zero and havin’ nothin’ aint such a bad place to be. With nothing at all you get to figure it all out. If you think about it enough you realize you better stop thinkin’ at all and make all your decisions on pure impulse based on gettin’ over shit. You don’t need much but you have to bust your hump just to settle into what you have and get comfortable.

  Takin’ another long draw out of the Clamato can it seems like I can just point at everything I’ve done and just laugh my ass off. I crawled my way up the very bottom and now I’m livin’ in other peoples garbage…and it’s alllll riiiiight.

  Laughin’, at this point, is all the armor you need to fend off the stupidity of social and financial demise. Who gives a fuck what the other guys got, you got what you need and you did your damnedest to keep it. That ain’t fuckin’ the pooch as far as I’m concerned.

  So here’s to forged high compression and empty wallets. Bring on the high test and jerk on your hogs leg…the Gods have spoken…we made it. Raise you glasses high and eat it all the shit that you have to because if you made it through… it all tastes like parfait…Happy God Damn New Year. “GT motherfuckin’ P”

...to busy cratin' ,shippin' and getting ready for some travelin'. Got some major mechanical revelations on the horizon that will make it all worth while.  There's a lot more to this 'paintin' for a livin' ' then just paintin'. Whatever, it's all goin' to be worth it come ridin' time. Shit yea.  "GTP"

...and why the fuck not!

 Ohhh yea...this things goin' to blat!