Street Chopper at Juke

Here's some pictures from last Saturday's Street Chopper show at the Juke Joint. The threat seemed to keep most people (pussies) away.

 I liked how simple the orange Evo chop was

 And the seat wasn't bad either

 This V65 Magna was in damn near perfect condition. No Hadley stand's a chance of keeping up with one of these.

This Ironhead was different, but I didn't really get it. Why have 6 over tubes on a stock rake? Whatever, to each their own.

 But this Evo Sporty was B.A. Barrakus. Dig the gold rims, the two into one, and the bars. I would have put a totally different seat on it and kep the belt drive, but that's me. I always have something to bitch about.

Oh, and dirtbike helmets are worthless. Why anyone still uses them is beyond me.

Paying for punches

Sometimes when you (Fank) gets drunk, people give the women around you $20 to punch you (Frank) in the face.

Tyranis

A local band called Tyranis played last night at The District Lounge. The place sucks, but alas, it's the only bar in Old Town big enough to actually have bands play. Tyranis still kicked ass though, especially for a last minute Sunday night deal.

Not too bad for a Sunday

My night started off once again at the best tattoo shop in Orange County. Here you can see the illusive Shark stalking the fastest Evo Dyna in the world, the famous Thunder Kitten.

 We made our way to Henry's. This bar is just a good place to hang out. One pool able, one electric dart board, and, generally, at least one set of nice breasticles.

And you can't ever forget about the decent looking ass.

Clown Puncher?

The raddest tattoo shop in OC, Old Towne Tattoo. Started off my recreational Friday here whilst I waited to see what the evening had in store.

 Good to see not everyone in South OC is brain dead. Not only excellent taste in automobiles, but killer fashion sense as well.

 Big Helyns. Lacking an apostrophe. So apparently there is someone named Helyns, who is either quite large or ironically small. Aaaaand the Clown Puncher. I almost got excited reading that, but then looked at the depiction of the clown on their sign and became a little concerned. I realized that life isn't awesome enough to have bars where I can actually hope to legally punch a clown, and I was right. It's some variant of a Jager Bomb. Pedestrian. I did have an argument though with the large breasted barmaid about what hurt more, being stabbed or being shot. The bitch cheated, as she had been both, and I have only been stuck once, by accident. I had to relent. You win this round, Chesty McTittytown.

My Thursday Night

Started here

And ended here

Like my snazzy little carry bag?