I THINK THE CHEVY'S LOOK WAY BETTER THAN THE ECONOLINES. JUST CHECK OUT THOSE WINDOWS.
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Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
GREETINGS FROM CANADA
Friday, November 27, 2009
ATTENTION AGAIN!!
BORN FREE 2010
DIAMOND DAVE DOIN STUFF.

REBUILDING THE TOP-END OF THE PAN FOR CALIFORNIA. WHEN YOU GO TO HIS SHOP TO WORK ON YER BIKE,IT'S THE PLACE TO BE. HE'S GOT NICE,ORGANIZED TOOLS AND EVERYTHING ELSE YOU CAN IMAGINE. MAKES REPAIRS ALOT EASIER AND EFFICIENT. IT IS TRULY A SLICE OF CHOPPER HEAVEN. THANKS DAVE!
Labels:
DAVES CHOPPER PARADISE.
SAINT PAUL SWING-ARMS
ROLL'IN
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
WOW...BUT IS IT ART?
CHOPPER DAVES (or just dave) PANHEAD
IF YOUR ORDERING SHIRTS!!!!!
HARPOON'S BIKE RIGHT AFTER THE WRECK.
THE SAGA OF HANS SOLO. ASS KICKING STORY #1
Late fall of 95’ I lived a few buildings south of The Red Dragon on Lyndale avenue. It was our frequently tapped watering hole. My friend Daryl and his brother stopped by after a day of wine and food tasting and I needed a drink, so we went to the Dragon. This place is known for some interesting times but tonight it was pretty slow ( It must have been a week night). We slid into the far back booth and proceeded to smooth out all of life’s worries. We were into a few rounds when the waitress wiggles over and says “you gotta get your friend out of here he’s making the other patrons sick”. I didn’t know what she was talking about. She must have been confused, it was usually the food.
Well I didn’t realize it but Daryl is sitting next to me passed out with drool and snot running all down his face and shirt. I woke him up and he stumbled off. Not more than a couple of minutes go by but we hear some woman shriek like her top had just been ripped of by a Werewolf, but was only Daryl passed out on the women’s bathroom floor. His brother and a I get up, get Daryl off of the floor and are trying to carry him out the back door when some punk rock kid comes up from behind us and starts shoving us and telling us were fucked and better get out of there. What the fucking idiot must not have noticed, is that was exactly what we were already doing before he came to help.
Daryl and his brother left and I went back in to finish my gin and tonic. It was when I sat up at the corner of the bar that I noticed the table of punk rock fags. There were four dudes and a chick. The one with the girl kept eyeballing me and mouthing “watch out when you leave were gonna kick your ass” over and over. So I grab my drink and walk out the back door, broke the top off my glass and waited. And waited but no one came out, so I stuck the broken glass into my coat pocket and went back in. The mouthy prick wasn’t in his chair so I sat down and started to talk to his girl. She was smoking hot and oozing sex, I was so distracted I didn’t even notice the other guys at the table. When her dick came back I politely gave him his chair back and asked why nobody came out to beat me up. He had some smart ass remark and as he was taking a drink of his cocktail I smacked him the back of the head. I heard his teeth hit glass as booze splashed his face, again asking why his threats were empty. Yeah now it was on.
I casually walked out the front door when they all bum rushed me in the vestibule. I whipped out the glass and caught a couple of fists with it before it before they hit my face but that didn’t last long. Before I knew it we were out in the street. I had gotten in a few good whacks before I was on the ground getting kicked and punched by three of them. Luckily I had brought down the mouthy one and had a hold of his head from the back and was smashing his head onto the street. It was one of the most pleasurable points of the night, I wasn’t letting go of this fucker until heard teeth rattle on the asphalt. I kept slamming and slamming and slamming as hard as I could. All of the kicking and punching in the world couldn’t have gotten me to loosen up, but I slipped. My right index finger got too far into his mouth and I felt his teeth cutting through skin and meat. The guy bit off a chunk of my finger. As I jumped up and scrambled back to the sidewalk they all switched to pushing and yelling at me to get out of here, we’re calling the cops. I couldn’t get anyone of those tough assed punk rock shits to keep it on. They all went back into the bar.
I walked home and wrapped my finger in paper towel topped off with a little electrical tape. My blood was boiling, how in the hell are four punk rockers going to start a fight with one skinny ass kid and then tell me they are calling the cops. I grabbed one of the butcher knives and was heading for the door when my buddy Tater came home and strongly encouraged me not to leave the house with that thing. Luckily he was persuasive enough and I took his advice. Who knows how wrong that could have gone. We sat down and cracked a couple of beers and both lost any respect we had for punk rockers.
The posers out there, no matter the scene will ruin it for all eventually.
Well I didn’t realize it but Daryl is sitting next to me passed out with drool and snot running all down his face and shirt. I woke him up and he stumbled off. Not more than a couple of minutes go by but we hear some woman shriek like her top had just been ripped of by a Werewolf, but was only Daryl passed out on the women’s bathroom floor. His brother and a I get up, get Daryl off of the floor and are trying to carry him out the back door when some punk rock kid comes up from behind us and starts shoving us and telling us were fucked and better get out of there. What the fucking idiot must not have noticed, is that was exactly what we were already doing before he came to help.
Daryl and his brother left and I went back in to finish my gin and tonic. It was when I sat up at the corner of the bar that I noticed the table of punk rock fags. There were four dudes and a chick. The one with the girl kept eyeballing me and mouthing “watch out when you leave were gonna kick your ass” over and over. So I grab my drink and walk out the back door, broke the top off my glass and waited. And waited but no one came out, so I stuck the broken glass into my coat pocket and went back in. The mouthy prick wasn’t in his chair so I sat down and started to talk to his girl. She was smoking hot and oozing sex, I was so distracted I didn’t even notice the other guys at the table. When her dick came back I politely gave him his chair back and asked why nobody came out to beat me up. He had some smart ass remark and as he was taking a drink of his cocktail I smacked him the back of the head. I heard his teeth hit glass as booze splashed his face, again asking why his threats were empty. Yeah now it was on.
I casually walked out the front door when they all bum rushed me in the vestibule. I whipped out the glass and caught a couple of fists with it before it before they hit my face but that didn’t last long. Before I knew it we were out in the street. I had gotten in a few good whacks before I was on the ground getting kicked and punched by three of them. Luckily I had brought down the mouthy one and had a hold of his head from the back and was smashing his head onto the street. It was one of the most pleasurable points of the night, I wasn’t letting go of this fucker until heard teeth rattle on the asphalt. I kept slamming and slamming and slamming as hard as I could. All of the kicking and punching in the world couldn’t have gotten me to loosen up, but I slipped. My right index finger got too far into his mouth and I felt his teeth cutting through skin and meat. The guy bit off a chunk of my finger. As I jumped up and scrambled back to the sidewalk they all switched to pushing and yelling at me to get out of here, we’re calling the cops. I couldn’t get anyone of those tough assed punk rock shits to keep it on. They all went back into the bar.
I walked home and wrapped my finger in paper towel topped off with a little electrical tape. My blood was boiling, how in the hell are four punk rockers going to start a fight with one skinny ass kid and then tell me they are calling the cops. I grabbed one of the butcher knives and was heading for the door when my buddy Tater came home and strongly encouraged me not to leave the house with that thing. Luckily he was persuasive enough and I took his advice. Who knows how wrong that could have gone. We sat down and cracked a couple of beers and both lost any respect we had for punk rockers.
The posers out there, no matter the scene will ruin it for all eventually.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
SWING ARM FXR BMX.
GARY LITTLEJOHN ALL AROUND HERO!!
SORRY FOR THE DOUBLE PIC. GARY PIONEERED SIDEHACK RACING IN BMX,BUILDING AND RACING THE ONLY AVAILABLE ONES AT THE TIME.

THIS BIKE IS FAMOUS,NOW YOU KNOW A LITTLE MORE ABOUT THE MAN WHO BUILT AND RODE THIS.

COFFIN TANKS? YEA HE DID THOSE. THATS HOW I FIRST DISCOVERED THIS DUDE. I SCORED ONE OF THESE ALMOST 15 YEARS AGO WHEN I WANTED TO BUILD A "MUNSTERS" STYLE BIKE. I KNOW...

BMX AD,LOOK WHAT HE'S MAKING AND SELLING. ALL THAT SHIT!
GARY WAS ALSO A STUNT MAN. (THATS A CAREER I WANTED TO HAVE BUT MY DREAMS CRUMBLED LIKE A BEER CAN CRACK PIPE). HE PERFORMED ALOT OF THE MOTORCYCLE STUNTS IN THE 60'S BIKER MOVIES AS WELL AS SOME TOP HOLLYWOOD GIGS. MR. GARY LITTLEJOHN IS ONE OF THOSE DUDES THAT NEEDS TO WRITE A BOOK OR HAVE A LITTLE MOVIE MADE. I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THAT. GARY LITTLEJOHN,MY HERO.


THIS BIKE IS FAMOUS,NOW YOU KNOW A LITTLE MORE ABOUT THE MAN WHO BUILT AND RODE THIS.

COFFIN TANKS? YEA HE DID THOSE. THATS HOW I FIRST DISCOVERED THIS DUDE. I SCORED ONE OF THESE ALMOST 15 YEARS AGO WHEN I WANTED TO BUILD A "MUNSTERS" STYLE BIKE. I KNOW...

BMX AD,LOOK WHAT HE'S MAKING AND SELLING. ALL THAT SHIT!
GARY WAS ALSO A STUNT MAN. (THATS A CAREER I WANTED TO HAVE BUT MY DREAMS CRUMBLED LIKE A BEER CAN CRACK PIPE). HE PERFORMED ALOT OF THE MOTORCYCLE STUNTS IN THE 60'S BIKER MOVIES AS WELL AS SOME TOP HOLLYWOOD GIGS. MR. GARY LITTLEJOHN IS ONE OF THOSE DUDES THAT NEEDS TO WRITE A BOOK OR HAVE A LITTLE MOVIE MADE. I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THAT. GARY LITTLEJOHN,MY HERO.Thursday, November 19, 2009
YO.YO.YO.YO!!!
OUT OF HATS!! OUT OF HATS!!! ALSO E-MAIL ME TO MAKE SURE I GOT CERTAIN SHIRTS IN STOCK. WORKIN ON ALOT OF NEW STUFF SO 2009 STUFF IS THINNING OUT. I WILL KEEP THE BEST SELLERS IN STOCK. ?????WOULD YOU LIKE BLACK HATS....WOULD YOU LIKE PRINTS ON BACK OF SHIRT..... WHAT ABOUT WHITE SHIRTS????? ANY SUGGESTIONS ABOUT GARMET STUFF LET ME KNOW. ZAC DOOM
DO ME A SOLID...
MAN..WHERE DO ALL THESE STICKERS GO??? IF YA CAN,SEND ME A PIC OF SOMETHING WITH THE "HEAVY" STICKER ON IT. A FEW PEOPLE HAVE SENT ME S.A.S.E. WITH HAND WRITTEN NOTES (WHICH I WILL COLLECT) AND SOME WITH DRAWINGS. THAT'S REAL COOL! E-MAIL ME zachonky@yahoo.com
BRAVE TOWN
EUGENE'S GIRDER FOR HIS SHOVEL PROJECT. I HAVE A FEELING THIS BIKE IS GONNA KILL. HIS IRONHEAD IS A SWEET FUCKIN BIKE TOO.

MY FAVORITE PART OF THE NITE IS WHEN MITCH FIRED UP THE SWEET SOUNDS OF FREEDOM. EUGENE.. YER BIKE STARTED ON THE FIRST KICK AND SOUNDED GOOD TOO. I'M NOT GONNA TELL YOU WHO DID IT. I LIKE PEOPLE THAT ARE SUPER PROTECTIVE OF THEIR BIKES. TELLS YOU WHERE THEIR HEAD IS IN ALL THIS MADNESS.
SLIPPERY PETE IS A HELL OF AN ENTERTAINER, HE WASN'T EVEN DRUNK BUT IT SEEM LIKE HE HAD THE BEST HIGH GOIN OUTTA THEM ALL.
SLIPPERY PETE IS A HELL OF AN ENTERTAINER, HE WASN'T EVEN DRUNK BUT IT SEEM LIKE HE HAD THE BEST HIGH GOIN OUTTA THEM ALL.END OF AUGUST.
NOW ALMOST THE END OF NOVEMBER. I JUST GOT OFF MY BIKE A LITTLE WHILE AGO. 50 DEGREES IS FINE AS LONG AS YOU STAY OFF THE HIGHWAY. I LOSE ALOT OF FEELING WHEN I HAVE TO MANY CLOTHS,GLOVES,SOCKS,HELMET ON. IT SADLY ALMOST DEFEATS THE WHOLE PURPOSE OF BEING ON A BIKE. I LOVE HAVING A FULL TANK OF GAS,SMOKES,2 DOLLARS,NO TOOLS,NO GEAR,NOTHING. FUCK IT...WHAT HAPPENS - HAPPENS.. CAST YER TROUBLES TO THE WIND.TATTY ZAPS
I REMEMBER WHEN GETTING A TATTOO WASN'T SO EASY. I SEARCHED HIGH AND LOW FOR A PLACE TO GET MY FIRST ONE. FIRST PLACE I WENT WAS AT A PLACE CALLED "WIZARDS". IT ENDED UP BEIN IN A DUDES HOUSE. SO I KNOCK AND A VIETNAM CHICK LETS ME IN,THERE ARE ALSO LITTLE VIETNAM KIDS RUNNING AROUND. SO SHE CALLS "WIZARD"!! AS IF ON CUE THIS FUCKIN GNARLY BIKER SWOOSHES THRU A CURTAIN AND APPROACHES ME. PART-TIME TRUCKER,PART TIME TATTOO ARTIST AND BY THE LOOK OF HIS SOLID BLACK SLEEVES...1% IN BAD STANDING. HIS FAMILY LOOKED LIKE HE STRAIGHT UP ORDERED THEM FROM VIETNAM OR HE WAS A VET. SO NOW I'M TRAPPED. HE TAKES ME UPSTAIRS TO HIS "STUDIO". TOTAL SKETCH SCENE. HE ASKS ME WHAT I WANT AND I KNOW I DON'T WANT THIS FUCKER TO TATTOO ME,SO I DID WHAT ANY 16 YEAR OLD KID WOULD DO. RUN FOR THE FUCKIN DOOR. LATER A COUPLE OF FRIENDS GOT SOME WORK FROM HIM WHEN HE WAS TATTOOING AT THE"FLEA MARKET!!!!" IT WAS GNARLY!!Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
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