LIFE AS IT IS.
12 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
First of all. Apologies. My normal blog prolificness has been a little bit missing over the last few months.
There have been lots of things going on since I returned to the UK in July.
Yeah I have suffered much sadness. I miss my Raven so much. But we look forward to being together soon. I suppose we never realised the amount of bureaucracy that separates us. Most people , including us, thought that getting married and being together would be an easy thing.
Thanks to the UK government that isn’t so. We have had to apply for a fiancée visa, total cost £800, and supply reams of documents including all of our personal letters/cards/bank statements etc etc ad infinitum.
What seems to be so unfair is that if my babe was from Somalia or Iraq she would be greeted with open arms, given a free house and benefits. But because we both work, have assets and a place to live then …uh oh no we have to go through the hoops.
Nuff said about that although please be aware that the situation is equally bureaucratic if I wished to marry my Raven in the USA.
Yeah I have a job. It’s a matter of having to. I have let the writing lapse although the Seer of Albion probably just needs tidying up before submitting and hopefully being taken up by a publisher. I just don’t get the time.
What am I doing at the moment??? Well I am working as a carer! I must admit that it has opened my eyes and in my quest to know all things it has helped. You certainly see life from a different perspective. The money is, to be honest, crap. Probably less than minimum wage averaged out but in some perverse way I enjoy it.
As always I read faces and actions. In ways it gives me such hope. I care for one old couple who are still both pretty spry although both in their 80s. I had a conversation with the lady and she still thinks her guy is the sexiest loveliest person who ever walked the earth. They find it hard but are so in love still after 60 years that every time I visit I leave with a smile of hope on my face.
I do see others who are so obviously alone and forgotten that it inspired me to write my poem ‘From A Dying Hand’. Life is indeed a bitch and then you die.
Some might find a god in these revelations but for this old Atheist….No. I just find myself falling more and more into the Atheist camp. I also fall more and more into my belief in Anarchy.
And that is it for now. Me n my babe are still awaiting news from the British Immigration Authorities. As that unfolds you will be the third to know…lol.
FROM A DYING HAND.
12 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
People don’t see through this mist
Into this land of shadows that masks my pain
Yes I hide this pain
I probably don’t have to
People ignore an old man and his sadness
I become just another of life’s inconveniences…
She left a while ago
Another woman. Long hours, family to feed.
Just another job to her
I smile.
She will never know she helped this dying hand.
I care as little as she and the others do.
Oh yes I had friends.
Many black and white moons ago
And sometimes I wondered what was the worst failing
Losing life
Or losing interest?
Because friends do both
They become strangers
They gain legend albeit posthumously
They betray me by dying it seems
I have to allow a bitter laugh as I gaze out of the window
To manicured grass. Flowerbeds.
Bloody roses. Always bloody roses…
In this so called ‘home’ where I have been placed
Out of sight and out of uncharitable mind.
In these twilight days of greyness
Another smile as I think of her.
She hurries to complete her minimum pay duties
Never noticing the pills I pocket each day…
They never know. They never care.
I had life once but now I am just a burden
Sitting alone in this wheeled chair
Weak, Incontinent, Inconvenient.
Please don’t forget.
These legs once were as strong as yours
My mind as sharp.
My loving as passionate.
And you will be here one day
Maybe in this same wheelchair
….gazing at the same bloody roses
Long after my body lies rotting
My memory a fading ghost. Ha
Those who knew me?
They died long ago.
Evening mist rolls in
Soft grey tendrils, smoke like
They creep in slowly across the manicured lawns
And I shiver involuntarily
My life is so like that fog
People see it and shut it out
Primeval weather
Cold, unwelcoming, forget it
It will be gone
No more in the sunshine of a new day
Lost like an old fools life.
………
The outside lights flare orange outside my window
Ghostly, fluorescent in the night’s clammy grasp.
I think of her one last time
Many years ago I would have desired her
Young, foreign and shapely beneath her uniform
I imagine the feel of her soft body
Ample breasts cupped in my eager hands
That feeling as my seed fills her.
But no more
Her only use to me now has been fulfilled.
I gratefully release the pills
Hidden in the back of my old radio
She never even noticed. I palmed them
It is hard but I shut off my light before pushing
The little strength left in my arms?
Well it gets my old body closer to my window.
My photograph of you?
Yes it is in my lap.
Fading in it’s frame
But still your smile radiates from it. From years ago
And all I want is to be with you
Wherever you are…
Tears? Are they of sadness?
I persuade myself that they are of happiness
As I join you.
I wish nothing else.
Night sounds. Toilets flush. Radiators gurgle
Coughing. The faint sound of a nearby room’s television.
The fog outside is thick now
I imagine faces from the past morphing from it’s chill formlessness
All in my room is lit with an ethereal orange glow
In it’s unnatural glare I lift your photograph to my dry lips
A soft kiss my darling.
I stretch out bony fingers to grasp the whisky and soda
One sip. One tablet.
And the others follow.
Slowly sounds fade.
The fog outside? No longer cold.
It’s grey fingers reach out for me.
For us. Welcoming
You join me as all becomes so quiet.
As hands release me from this chair’s metal grasp
The shackles of pain drop from weak arms.
And with you.
I am me again.
Next day. She answers questions?
Too intense for one on such low pay.
But soon they are over.
She is left to clear the room.
And briefly as she bends down to mop up spilt whisky
A light draft moves her hair
She picks up a photo in an old silver frame
A humdrum life for one moment stops
As she admires the old print.
A beautiful lady smiles back.
Happy
Beside her man.
© 2011 Stan Rogers. All rights reserved.
Back to Bloody England.
28 Jul 2011 Leave a Comment
Sitting here listening to The Pixies and remembering the flights back to the UK.
First it’s a flight to Toronto on a Dash 8. A Dash 8 Is like a bus with propellors. It rumbles and rocks. It doesn’t get too high so I can see Lake Erie as we fly over. All is going well apart from the girl sitting next to me being airsick. Ha. I am immune to that. Never get airsick and this flight is fairly smooth.
I miss my babe and remember her sad face as I drifted through the departures. Yea the usual laptop out belt and shoes off. At least I didn’t get the explosives residue test this time.
And so I am 20,000 feet above Ohio and Canada. I sneak a Jim Beam into my Air Canada Ginger Ale and enjoy the flight. This is nothing compared to the 7 hour ordeal to come.
We land safely in Toronto and I join the usual Canada immigration queue. I love Canada. They don’t give a fuck. My passport is stamped and I wander down to the baggage carousel. The Delta Airlines guy back in Columbus told me that I would have to pick up my bags and re-book them in for the UK flight.
I wait….and I wait. Soon I am the only person left as the carousel winds around sans my luggage. Kouchons. Where the hell is it?
I wander over to a bored looking Air Canada guy. “Where the fuck are me bags?” I ask beseechingly. It appears that Delta Airlines don’t have a bloody clue. My luggage is automatically sent on to my London flight. But I am not worried as they also for the first time didn’t charge me for my second case….Yipee.
And now I have 5 hours to waste in Toronto. First stop is Starbucks who accept my USA issued card. Brilliant. I have coffee and I head out front for a much needed cigarette.
Toronto airport is cool. I can smoke between flights. It is sunny and hot. Love it but soon the nerves get to me again as I sit in the terminal building. Man I even consider cancelling my flight and trying to find a ship back. Time for more Valium.
I pop one and make my way through to departures. No more fags. I hit the bar and down a few Molsons. Nice beer but at 6 dollars a glass?….Whew? My fear gradually recedes and I make my way to the Duty Free. FFS. I buy nothing. Too bloody expensive. I can buy booze cheaper back in the UK and fags.
Soon my flight is called. And so I find my own private nightmare in a squashed up seat. I am pleasantly mellowed by booze and drugs as the engines spool up. Soon we are airborne and I have a remarkably boring flight. I like boring. Terrified is what I hate. I do manage to slip quite a few Jim Beams down as we fly. It helps.
I try to sleep a little but I can’t. Too bloody uncomfortable but time passes fast and we land at 06:30am UK time. I praise the gods for a smooth landing and I am back in the UK.
The usual. Grab a bus to Cambridge then a cab and home by lunchtime. On the way I look out at a sad England. I feel so divorced from it now. Everything seems so small. The cars, the roads and in paticular the minds.
Back in the UK the big news is Rupert Murdoch’s News of the World’s phone hacking scandal.
I laugh. Everyone is shocked at the involvement of the British Police. Does no one ever learn? The British police are bent. They always have been and always will be. I watch my poor countries sad towns flash past and try to stay awake.
Like this:
LEAVING OHIO…
28 Jul 2011 Leave a Comment
Image via Wikipedia
Here we go. Time to return to the UK and I am devastated. I have to leave Ohio and my babe to board the first flight back to England.
My nerves are shot on that sunny July morning at Columbus Airport. Oh it hasn’t been too bad as I have been helping Raven move from the apartment for the last week. It helps to keep my mind from the imminent flight.
After carrying various boxes and items down two flights of steps in 90 degree heat I suppose I am pretty knackered and feeling every day of my 57 years. OK I am cream crackered but I don’t care.
Our last two nights were spent in La Quinta hotels in Columbus. The first, on our last Wednesday was in Dublin and I enjoy the atmosphere of the hotel as usual. Most hotels are pretty souless places…unless you smoke. You get a pretty fascinating view of people as you enjoy that last smoke of the night outside at midnight and I beach up besides some southern guys who are drinking beers and putting the world to rights on that hot summer night. Fascinating but I am shattered and just enjoy listening to the conversation in the humid night. I do actually have a conversation the next morning with them. 9am and they are still drinking beer. I tell them I have popped out for a fag and one of them gets a bit arsey. Thinks I’ve called his friend a faggot. But we all end up as good friends as we agree that Andrew Jackson was the last GOOD American President.
Our last Thursday and we are back to the now furnitureless apartment to clean up. More climbing up and down the stairs and cleaning. I stand out on the empty balcony and smoke as I bid a silent goobye to our home of the past 18 months. Appropriately enough our sparrow family have all fledged and the nestbox is now empty.
I really try hard to hide my sadness but soon the time comes. The last closing of the front door to our lives for a while. We give the keys in to the office and we are away. The car is laden down. mostly with my shit. Two full sized suitcases that it has taken me a week to get down to weights that I can actually carry without calling for a fork lift and a mortgage to pay the excess baggage fees. It has of course meant leaving stuff behind which to me is heartbreaking as every item has it’s own memory. I even have to dump my snow boots. Too bulky….sigh.
And we are away to the La Quinta in Reynoldsburg. Looks good on the map. Only 10 minutes to the airport but Raven tells me it is in a bad neighbouhood…Hmmm.
Looks OK when we arrive. It even has a pool but the immediate area has that generally run down kind of look. But we hitch the Nissan up outside reception after we unload. Raven is a bit worried but I assure her that with the vacuum cleaner/buckets etc on view inside the car we will pass as just cleaners and we enter the room that is our last home together for at least a few months.
The room is OK. We have a fridge that accomodates our ample booze supplies on this hot sultry Ohio night. We look for somewhere to eat and we hit O’Charley’s. I can’t remember what I ate. I am too busy trying to imprint the moment on my mind. My babes smile. I live for it… But I do notice that we do seem to be unique in this place with our whiteness. Who cares. It is packed and I enjoy a couple of beers before we return to the OK CORALL.
.
Night has fallen and we chill out on the queen size bed with a couple of G&T’s. I must admit that I swallowed a Valium as my always present fear of my forthcoming flight raises it’s ugly head again.
Outside as usual the show goes on as I take my last cigarette. It is still in the 80′s as I watch the nightlife. Some black dudes arrive. The grandpa must be 90 if he’s a day and the family wonder how they are going to get him upstairs as the hotel doesn’t have lifts. I commiserate. Some girl comes out and bums a light for her dog end. She takes off her shoes and runs off singing…hmmm Americans….lol.
But morning comes. First Valium, second coffee then shower. I am bloody terrified. I load the car. 8am and it is still about 80 degrees as we leave for our final trip to the airport. I find my hand stroking my Raven’s leg as usual as we drive but this time I try to remember every touch. Every second…. but before long we are in departures..
What do we do? I hate goodbyes, even temporary ones. This woman that I have spent so much time with. This woman I love is apart from me because my bloody visa ran out. I rage inside at the unfairness of it all but ‘c’est la vie’ what can I do.
RUSH IN CLEVELAND! … BRILLIANT.
27 Apr 2011 Leave a Comment
in Music, Ohio, TRAVEL Tags: Quicken Loans Arena, Rush (band), RUSH IN CLEVELAND
THE TOUR PROGRAM.
Last week. Friday 15th April to be exact Me and Raven went to see Rush at the Quicken Loans Arena in Cleveland Ohio. Rush have always been one of my favourite bands particularly in the late 70s/early 80s and so when my Raven surprised me with the tickets I was ecstatic. Out came the old albums (well OK from the hard drive) and I was back into 2112 and A Farewell To Kings my personal favorites from their many albums. Brilliant stuff. For a three piece band they sound amazing. 
Anyway the 15th arrived and we were on our way. We are in Columbus and Cleveland is a two hour drive north. We set off early so that we could stop along the way and their is only one place to stop for me which is about half way. Grandpa’s Cheese Barn and Fin, Feather and Fur, both in Ashland Ohio. World HQ of Nice People the sign tells you on the freeway.
A LIKELY TALE.
I love to look around Fin, Feather and Fur first. It’s a mecca for the hunting,shooting and fishing fraternity but for me the most fascinating items (being from England) are the weapons, particularly the guns. We pulled up outside in the car park mostly populated by 4X4 flatbed vehicles. I was expecting to see the odd dead deer or two slung across a few hoods but no. They must’ve been there to stock up on ammo before they went a shooting that day.
OOPS!
THE CHEESEMOBILE.
HANDS UP.....LOL
After my customary admiration of the hunting bows and knives we hit the upstairs gun department. They probably stock more weaponry than a small third world country and I was enjoying this immensely. From the hugest hunting guns down to small pearl handled derringers, they had it all. And the tee-shirts? Wow I think I’d be lynched by the animal lovers back home if I wore some of these items which mostly seem to glorify beer and blasting not so small furry animals to kingdom come but I find I have a gory fascination with all of it. From there we pull acroos the road to Grandpa’s cheese barn. It’s a great place with lots of free tastings. We had a coffee and a hotdog and we even found our favourite. Jalapeno jam. I love this stuff. It tastes like lime marmalade with afterburners but as I write this a week later it has all gone. Time for another visit to Grandpa’s soon. We also saw an Amish girl and her young son running a home made basket stall. She wouldn’t let us take pictures though. The Amish don’t like photographs. Apparently the reason for this is that it promotes vanity. Oh well, time to hit the road again.
This time I drove and within the hour we were in Cleveland Ohio.
CLEVELAND
We stopped so that Raven could drive as I still find driving here especially in cities a little disconcerting. We were about to consult the map for the venue but by luck I had pulled up right along the street from the Quicken Arena. Very lucky but of course the problem is in finding somewhere to park. After we had seemed to see most districts of Cleveland we found a place. Right across from the arena and only $10 for the evening. Result.
NICE COFFEE
Of course the first stop for me as always was for Coffee and we found Erie Island Coffee just down the street. Nice place and as soon as the coffee top up treatment was accomplished we headed across the street to the Arena.
QUICKEN LOANS ARENA.
There were Rush fans of all ages heading in with us and I was impressed by the place. We recieved dire warnings with the tickets that no photography was allowed and so I had left the phone and camera in the car but we still had to pass security. First the metal detectors and then Raven’s bag was checked out but we were all clear and headed off to the foyer. First stop was the souvenir shop for the tee shirt and my Raven got me a great tour one. I just had to visit the loo to change into it. Now I really felt the part.
THE TOUR SHIRT
YEP CLEVELAND IS ON THERE.
We rode the escalator up to our level, I was so looking forward to finding our seats before the show started and we made our way around the corridor till we found our entrance … EEEEEEEEK! … we found it and …. EEEEEEEEEK. We were so far up I felt I may need oxygen. Now I hate heights and boy was this high. We were one row from the very top of the arena looking down what looked like a sheer mountainside. I tried not to look down as we found our seats but eventually I had to turn. Oh my god I don’t know how I stopped myself from running straight out again. The seating was so steep that people in the row in front of us’s head level was at our foot level. I think I even got a little agoraphobia too so vast was the place.
NOT RUSH BUT SHOWS HOW HIGH WE WERE IN THE HIGHEST SEATS...EEEK!
I suppose that I didn’t run out as I was rooted to my seat trying not to look down and clutching the seat next to me for dear life. But my Raven as usual was brilliant. She knows my medication well by now and up she got leaving me attached to her seat back so tightly that I think I’d have needed cutting free. And soon she was back with GIN …wonderful Gin.
Ahhhh...medication.
A couple of large ones and the jitters started to go just in time for the show. And the show was fantastic. All my old favourites. Closer to the Heart, 2112, Spirit of the Radio, Tom Sawyer. They worked back in time and also played the new songs Caravan and BU2B (Brought Up To Believe).
The light show and pyrotechnics were great too but I was very impressed by the airship. It was remote controlled and floated about taking film of the crowd and the band. Everytime it passed we were up and waving at it. But again we were so high that it was actually lower than us. But one thing did annoy me. I had adhered to the rules and left the camera in the car but now I was in everyone seemed to have camera’s or camera phones. The guy next to me even had a full size camera of some desciption with a massive telephoto lens on it. He was happily taking some fantastic movie film and busily emailing it to friends I suppose. I was gutted. I could have got some great shots with my FUJI but alas it was sitting lonely in the car and so I am afraid I have no pics to put up here. I have put some from the program up instead.
TICKETS TO HEAVEN.
GEDDY LEE
NEAL PEART
And so the night went well. My Raven kept me lubricated and vertigo free so much so that by the end of the show I was on my feet and singing along fearless of the vertiginous drop in front of me. I had a wonderful time. One other fantastic piece of news. Rush had this show filmed and it will be released on DVD sometime in the future. You can be sure that I’ll be getting a copy.
AN ATHEIST’S RETORT!
17 Apr 2011 Leave a Comment
in ATHEISM, Views of Life, Views of Religion Tags: Atheism, Book of Genesis, Enûma Eliš, Jesus, Thomas Jefferson
I received and interesting message today on one of the Social Networking sites that being My Yearbook. Now I do get these occasionally and reply to them but I thought this one deserved posting on here such was the fun that I had in replying to it..
This was the post that I received.
God is not upset by a Mans foolishness.For Stan and all that have such a thought are just trying to think they are intelligent by there words.Stan if you were intelligent,you wouldnt be making foolish talk about your Creator.lol.and You will one day meet Him,but you wont be able to think of your foolishness then.It will be more like,um,um,um,um.and Since as you claim there is no God,then You dont love as God is Love and that which you think is love towards another is merely foolishness.Human Emotions.oh and by the way.I was named 1 of the top 10 poets in the world in november 2008.I have written well over a million poems.I have turned down at least 8 publishing contracts.It takes me 11 minutes to push out a poem.I have written 8 books.and guess what.none of that matters if it didnt change anothers life for the better.Now If Raven says You are a Gentleman,Then thats awesome.my question is Why did you walk away from Your personal relationship with Jesus You once had.Did you suddenly realize,you would be more noticed if you did your own thing.Jesus Loves you Stan and He wants you to come home,into His arms.Repent for the Kingdom Of God is at Hand in your life.If you Love Raven as You claim,You will listen to God as He is calling your name.Life is to short to be spending it running away from God.
I could not resist the challenge and so I replied thus.
I have read the bible. Many parts of it many times over and I have read much biblical history. I cannot accept any of the god within. That so called god exalts genocide, murder, racism, homophobia, misogyny and pedophilia and yes I can quote all of the verses. The bible is basically a mish-mash of old Jewish beliefs and history. Even the book of Genesis is plagiarized from the Enûma Eliš. Also if you know your biblical etymology god becomes gods plural in many parts of the old testament. So much for ‘one’ god eh?
The biblical god is also vain, capriciously immature and in today’s society would probably be branded a psychopath.
Even your idea of hell is an invention of the medieval church and so I have no fear whatsoever of flames or the devil. But I understand your childish belief in such matters much as I smile at a child’s belief in Father Christmas or the Tooth Fairy. Charming stories but no more and the intelligent child will soon grow out of them.
I also do not close my mind to how we were created. Maybe there was some kind of intelligence behind the universe but I just do not accept it as being a religionist god. One day we will all find out but I have no doubt that I will NOT meet Jesus who you actually misname. Jesus was a Latin translation of Joshua or Joshua.
And so in short I am not running away from god but rather I outgrew him through reason and understanding. I actually believe that if anyone is on the run it is your god. After too long he has finally been found out and will hopefully soon be consigned to the garbage bin of historical folly.
I am also somewhat skeptical of your claim to have written over a million poems. That is pretty good going as if for example you were to write 10 poems per day, day in day out continuously without stopping then … well 273 years my friend? A god given gift for speed typing or very short poems? I would also have thought that after such gargantuan use of writing your grammar and punctuation might have been a tad more correct.
And finally I ask this of all who profess to follow god and the bible? Do you believe in the death penalty for murderers? Do you support the use of troops to kill other people as in Afghanistan? (I do but I am not christian).
If you do then how do you square that with the 10 commandments? YES the “Thou shalt not kill.” one.
I shall leave you with this quote with which I whole heartedly agree…..”I have examined all the known superstitions of the world, and I do not find in our particular superstition of Christianity one redeeming feature. They are all alike founded on fables and mythology.” It was said by Thomas Jefferson.
THERE REALLY ISNT YOU KNOW.
BIKERS REVENGE ON ANTI-FUR CAMPAIGNERS.
07 Apr 2011 Leave a Comment
in HUMOUR., Views of Life Tags: Animal rights, Biker's revenge, Fur farming, Humane farming, Johnstown PA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals
I received this tale today in an email. Now I do not believe in cruelty to animals but I do agree with humane farming of animals. I just love my steak and bacon too much. I also see no harm in using the by products of animals (ie leather). Even fur when humanely farmed I have no problem with which reminds me of another act of animal rights activists stupidity.
Back in the 1980s in the UK near to where I lived at the time there was a fur farm. It farmed mink. Now mink are one of the nastiest little critters on the planet and I find it a redeeming feature of these unpleasant wee beasts that they should lay down their lives to produce snuggly warm gloves or collars. One of the anti-fur groups in their ‘finite’ wisdom decided to visit the site clandestinely to release the aforesaid little bundles of four legged unpleasantness.
One up to the activists? NO. The mink, now free, disappeared into the local bio system and set about totally wiping out the local populations of voles and ground nesting birds.
Great work guys……
But on with the post…….
What a wonderful coming together of two diverse groups! We need more gatherings where the idiot activists are given warm, moist, aromatic welcomes like this one. This is why PETA usually protests women wearing fur rather than bikers wearing leather. Sounds to me like the old saying, “you mess with the bull, and you get the horns”. Gee, I guess these characters thought that Bikers where going to be politically correct like the rest of the wimpy world.
HOW ONE OF THE PROTESTORS WAS FOUND.
Johnstown, PA (GlossyNews) – Local and state police scoured the hills outside rural Johnstown, Pennsylvania, after reports of three animal rights activists going missing after attempting to protest the wearing of leather at a large motorcycle gang rally this weekend. Two others, previously reported missing, were discovered by fast food workers “duct taped inside fast food restaurant dumpsters,” according to police officials.
“Something just went wrong,”said a still visibly shaken organizer of the protest. “Something just went horribly, horribly, wrong.”The organizer said a group of concerned animal rights activist groups, “growing tired of throwing fake blood and shouting profanities at older women wearing leather or fur coats,” decided to protest the annual motorcycle club event “in a hope to show them our outrage at their wanton use of leather in their clothing and motor bike seats.” “In fact,” said the organizer, “motorcycle gangs are one of the biggest abusers of wearing leather, and we decided it was high time that we let them know that we disagree with them using it. ergo, they should stop.”
According to witnesses, protesters arrived at the event in a vintage 1960′s era Volkswagen van and began to pelt the gang members with balloons filled with red colored water, simulating blood, and shouting “you’re murderers” to passers by. This, evidently, is when the brouhaha began.
“They peed on me!!!” charged one activist. “They grabbed me, said I looked like I was French, started calling me ‘La Trene’ and duct taped me to a tree so they could pee on me all day!”
Still others claimed they were forced to eat hamburgers and hot dogs under duress. Those who resisted were allegedly held down while several bikers “farted on their heads.”
Police officials declined comments on any leads or arrests due to the ongoing nature of the investigation; however, organizers for the motorcycle club rally expressed “surprise” at the allegations.
“That’s preposterous,”said one high-ranking member of the biker organizing committee. “We were having a party, and these people showed up and were very rude to us. They threw things at us, called us names, and tried to ruin the entire event. So, what did we do? We invited them to the party! What could be more friendly than that? You know, just because we are all members of motorcycle clubs does not mean we do not care about inclusiveness. Personally, I think it shows a lack of character for them to be saying such nasty things about us after we bent over backwards to make them feel welcome.”
When confronted with the allegations of force-feeding the activist’s meat, using them as ad hoc latrines, leaving them incapacitated in fast food restaurant dumpsters, and ‘farting on their heads,’ the organizer declined to comment in detail. “That’s just our secret handshake,”assured the organizer
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