Moveitfred is an idiot.
There. Not that most of you didn't know this already, but just in case you're new to this game. And fahk, couldn't at least one of you cheapskates have thrown down a couple of bucks for some of that Gloucester venue chowder so Moveitfred could drown his sorrow?
OK, so post-Gloucester Moveitfred needs to cover a couple of things. First, Moveitfred feels like he knows what a Trekie convention is like now. Moveitfred couldn't turn two steps in the crowd without intruding on some other blogger's personal space. Some were balanced on 4-inch clogs to give them a more, ahem, imposing vertical presence [Litka]. Some were amped up so high on "the bean" that Moveitfred felt his hair stand on end when he got too close [Meg]. Some were clearly so deep into "the program" that they were able to score a podium finish in those huge fields of like, what, 500 racers [CTodd]. Still others were leading great packs of baby blue crossers like this little place on earth was the Promised Land [Zank]. And finally, some were decked out in such horrendous attire that Moveitfred can only say they looked like giant orange Yetis that wrought fear in Moveitfred's unstable constitution [G].
Moveitfred knows that other bloggers of renown were mixed in among the masses. Are there any crossers who do not blog? Sheesh.
Live long and prosper, Bloggers.
Moveitfred has one other issue to discuss. Where Moveitfred is from (i.e. Civilization) when a sign on the road indicates that there is a McDogalds or SubwaySubwaySubway off at the next exit, one need only pull easily off the highway for a short distance, inhale processed food of choice, and easily re-enter the highway in order to speed on one's way.
Moveitfred had the same experience on two different occasions up in the back woods of northern Mass. He spied a tempting list of confections on a highway sign only to pull off onto a vast, winding, vapid wasteland through dark, foreboding forests and then be dumped out at the end of it all into some grey, clapboard neighborhood with no indication whatsoever which way to go to get the fat fix. Moveitfred was looking for Faith with the Pink Ribbons to ask for directions.
On one off-ramp Moveitfred was able to find a McDogalds after driving about 5 miles west, only to then discover upon backtracking that there was no ramp back onto the 95 South. Talk about a fahking one-way ticket to hell--flame-lit rocky alter or not.
Now, if you've been able to hang on so far with this horrific blending of Star Trek and Hawthorne let Moveitfred simply end with a few images from an epic day. Looking forward to an early arrival and two full days next year.
Spectacular day on the water
G--Fahking track star in the sand
CTodd making everyone hurt up the hill
Kreb in the house
Robin over the boards
Zank feeling the pain of being half-way through
Bessette stretching out her lead through the sand
Alie Kenzer picking a line down the hill
Meg getting it going tight and fast
Tim Johnson chasing after rolling a tire
Powers leading the front group through the sand
18 comments:
COCK:
Did you race at all? Give us the run down. None of us gives a fuck that you couldn't get your happy meal. We wanna know about the course, your abyssmal perfomrance, and the hotties in the ATMO kits.
Looks like it was a blast and I fully intend to be there next year with my wonderful wife in tow. Also, I will bring an alarm clock and a backup.
Heywood, it was a nuclear bomb. You'd better getcherass up here next time. And definitely bring the wife. Eye candy is always welcome in these parts.
MoveitFred needs to introduce himself to CTodd. CTodd has to see if this 3rd-person-grammar-thing is only online or actally a real phenomenon
Heywood has a sweet tooth and I'm going to give him some candy if he can stay home for more than 24 hours.
boing
MIF is uber mega quiet ... and with teh cap and glasses left on...
G might have a hard time picking him out of a line up of tall freaks at the races...
the Purple People eater was fahking HOT...
Moveitfag looks like Ichabod Fucking Crane, minus the Adam's apple. My theory is that he's blown so many dudes in I-95 truck stop washrooms that he sucked the thing right down into his gut.
oh for the love of. . .
western mass is a hell hole of dicktease franchise signs. i too have taken the bait. but i did not carve an "S" on my chest b/c of the guilt over franchised bean.
nofuckingsiree
i love it so much i even wrote a rap about it:
i like the bean and i will not lie
you other 'crossers can't deny
that when I walk in with latte foam my chin
you get scared and back away
but you can't keep me at bay
no matter how much you pray
deep in the coffee i'm dowin'
these freakishly tall guys all clownin'
MIF I got to take your picture
now i need one of heywood's sister
the barrista she tried to warn me
but that americano seemed to call me
with 17 sugar packs
no wonder baby got back
On the course Meg-A-ttack
But her coffee rhyme is whack.
She be rappin ‘bout MI Fred
(Dude be givin’ truck stop head).
C-todd be huntin’ eye candy,
But that ain’t for Mrs. Jablome.
Heywood best be getting’ home
N Johnny A Bag got his self a bone.
But none of this is the scoop,
Sit back while Al gives y’all the poop:
Moveitfred shat the bed,
The alarm clock slipped his head.
While Al did his 10 mile deal
MIF pounded the steerin’ wheel.
Motherfuck shoulda been racin’,
Now the Bicoastals he be disgracin’.
Sorry. Had ta BYS bizzatches.
Heywood, you are a douchebag for bagging this race, you douche.
Moveitfred thanks CTodd for the cinema time and for blowing Moveitfred's cover.
Gewilli is very orange.
Hugh, it's always refreshing to get your perspective on things.
Meg, Moveitfred always knew you could rap. Moveitfred bets you're skilled at the wrap, too. JD's t-shirt is sooooooo soft. What's his secret?
Al,
Fuck. You sporting gold teef, yo?
Sho nuff. My grill is stupid dumb fresh
JD's t-shirts are 'Merican made, so they are so soft b/c of union-wage love.
None of that Chinese child-labor lead-silkscreening dye shit.
Al--why ya gotta one-up me biiiiiiiiatch?
Meg-
October 8, 2007 is, like, so two weeks ago. If you are going to maintain a blog you must blog. Knock off the western mass rap shit over here and go clean up your own space. Capiche?
xo Moveitfred
Well, Meg, it's like this:
I'm the king of rock, there is none higher
Sucker MC's should call me sire
To burn my kingdom, you must use fire
I won't stop rockin' till I retire
Now we rock the party and come correct
Our cuts are on time and rhymes connect
Got the right to vote and will elect
And other rappers can't stand us, but give us respect
They called us and said we're gettin iller
There's no one chiller
It's not Michael Jackson and this is not Thriller
As one def rapper, I know I can hang
I'm Run from Run-DMC, like Kool from Kool and the Gang
Roll to the rock, rock to the roll
DMC stands for devestating mic control
You can't touch me with a ten foot pole
And I even made the devil sell me his soul
Now we crash through walls, cut through floors
Bust through ceilings and knock down doors
And when we're on the tape, we're fresh out the box
You can hear our sound for blocks and blocks
For every living person we're a purple treat
It's me and DMC, Jay where's the beat?
Now we're the baddest of the bad, the coolest of the cool
I'm DMC, I rock and roll. I'm DJ Run, I rock and rule
It's not a Trick or Treat and it's not a April Fool
It's all brand new, never ever old school
You got the music in your body and you can't comprehend
When your mind won't wiggle and your knees will bend
Music ain't nothin but a people's jam
It's DJ Run-DMC rockin without a band
Now I walked on ice and never fell
I spent my time in a plush hotel
I stood on many stages, held many mics
Take airplane flights, at huge heights
So all you sucker MC's, you gotta say please
Cause when he jumps high, I'm pulling down weeds
Got a song so strong, it's knocking down trees
Is it hard to believe it's Run-DMC
I am from, around the way
And Run goes to school, every day
And Jay plays the records he has to play
And we get down with no delay, HEY!
I rock the party with the words I speak
And Run says the rhymes that are unique
And Jay cuts the records every day of the week
And we are the crew that can never be beat
So don't try to diss me, try to be my friend
Cause if you do, you'll get yours in the end
The rhymes we say, shall set a trend
Because a devestating rap is what we send
Every jam we play, we break two needles
There's three of us but we're not the Beatles
My name is Darryl, you can call him D
You can call me Darryl Mack, or you can call him DMC
People always ask, "DMC, what does it mean?"
D's for never dirty, MC for mostly clean
Like we said before, we rock hardcore
I'm DJ Run, I can scratch. I'm DMC, I can draw
And now we got the knack, to attract
Our rhyme's an aphrodisiac
We'll reign on your brain and rock your knot
When it comes to rock, give it all we got
To be MC's, we got what it takes
Let the poppers pop and the breakers break
We're cool cool cats, it's like that
That's the way it is, so stay the hell back
We're causin hard times, for sucker MC's
Cause they don't make no songs like these
PERIOD!
What is MIF talking about? I did NOT meet you this weekend. I have no clue as to who you are. That random dude in the Gloucester todcast with the chick in the background saying "this is MoveitFred" I found out is actually is Dr. J. P. Van Meiherleuvenglueven, the nonfamous Dutch cyclocross trainer.
That Dutch JP dude needs to sandbag down a class and get some results.
this may just be the funniest post I've read in a long time.
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