It’s the cover to a propane camping stove I bought from someone in Pacifica. It was hella rusty, because Pacifica, and now it is not rusty and I am, like, really good at cleaning a sandblast cabinet.

Anyway the next person who uses the word “adulting” around me for something like making a dentist appointment gets fucking murdered and I won’t be sorry

Not to be a dick about it but if you’re gonna ride a 40-year-old motorcycle, you gotta get used to carburetors. They’re fine. Lawnmowers use them. Syncing and tuning them? Sure, be nervous. But the carb on an old Japanese thumper is about as easy as it gets.

I swear watching videos of pinstripers at work makes my heart rate instantly drop. www.instagram.com/reel/Ckh04aq...

GAH

On the plus side, I have almost enough structural-grade 3/32 flush aluminum rivets to build an airplane for a field mouse, and I can recognize fractional rivets on sight in sizes from 3 to 8. One more overly specific and unpopular skill for the pile!

I’m pretty sure they’re some dead old Air Force guy’s rivets. It’d break hearts to know they were all dumped in together in a garage clear-out, so I tell myself he must’ve sneaked them home from work a few at a time over the years in a classic Johnny Cash “One Piece At a Time” move.

At one point the student rationalized their understandable anxiety by saying “It’s different when you start riding in your 30s,” and kinda started when I blithely chirped “ Tell me about it, I started at 36!”

Um Erik Estrada is pretty dreamy so if you get that excited about C.H.i.P.s. it might just be garden-variety bisexuality

And Frontier boards and exits from the front and back of the plane now! Soon as I memorize the rows where the wings block the view from a window seat, I’m golden.

also hot damn you can now walk from there to the A gates without the train and that goddamn guitar riff