Monday, August 07, 2006

1%

The Yummy Biker and I have quite a collection of EasyRider magazines...not only the pathetic ones from the 'Eighties on, but the oh Jesus, zits and tits, low-rent EasyRiders, starting at issue #2. (Anyone out there have an ish #1 they'd like to part with? Even if its 'Riders UK, let me know in the comments and we'll do the email thing.)

This magazine had its' moments, and some moments were pure class, but it was never cool the way, say, underground comix were cool. EasyRiders was cool the way sleazy sideshow crap is cool...because it was fuck-you tasteless. For the times and the place it was pretty extreme. Sagging boobs, aging snatch, whiskey and beer, quaaludes, sodomy, needle tracks, white trash-sister humping-stuff. All the iron was Ameripean, all the women were nymphomaniacs and all the men were balldragging studs, of course.

Now all this romance existed primarily in the minds of two staffers- Spider, and 'Bandit' aka K. Randall Ball. The two of them also did about half of the writing in the early issues. Yes, Virginia, that includes the letters. (No! No! you mean to tell me that THE LETTERS IN EASYRIDERS WERE FAKED????? I know somebody who got their letter published in WordMonger though! My uncle! When he was in prison! etc.) To be fair, by the late 'Seventies much of the content came from outside submissions. Now, were those writers actual bike people?

Hmm. Are bears catholic? Does the pope shit in the woods?

Anyway, nobody cared. As far as the readership were concerned, this magazine defined THE SCENE. Bike people ate it up whole, without question, like it was candy. Really disgusting shit flavored candy with funky hairs and cockroach parts stuck all in it. Ate. It. Up.
I know I did.
Yep.

Of course, I was 17 and I had NO GODDAMN SENSE.*

We cycle these vintage issues through our throne room reading rack about once every year or so and surprisingly they just get better with age.
In an Ed Wood kind of way.

FROM THE WALLS: NOTES FROM LOCKED DOWN BROTHERS AND SISTERSMOUNT UP, LADIES! For one massive Aryan warrior" I'm 24, 5'9", 170 lbs,. and built to last! Free in three years, and seeking the pale, lusting flesh of an Aryan slam pig. No other forms of inferior scum need reply. Xxxxxxx Xxxx Box 1xx, So. Walpole, MA 02071

TENNESSEE "WHITE" HEADED PECKERWOOD: Slammed down in the blue grass. I'm 37, 5'6", and 175 lbs. of all-beef Tennessee pride. Would like to kick it with some of you fine "white" soft-tails. Steve "Hardluck" Wallace, #xxxxxx-ek, Dorm 1xxx Eastern Kentucky Corr. Complex, Box xxx, West Liberty, KY xxxxx

ITTY-BITTY-TITTY-LOVER down in a gator country prison, looking for a sweet or sour slut for life. I'm 38, 6'1", 250 lbs., have tats and operating Pan. Due out in '94. Write: Dennis "McNasty" McCarthy, xxxxxx-xx hamilton Corr. Institution, P.O. Box xxxx, Vasper, FL xxxxx

Now I wonder if any of these gentlemen ever found what they were looking for via the medium of these ads. Certainly the prospect of being somebody's' slam pig would rouse the tender feelings in any womans' soul.

MIRACULOUS MUTHA TELLS ALL!
Soup Kitchen
Listen up, bitch, because I've ben thinkin' about it, and I've got some plans for you and me. First, I want to give you an enema with a whole can of Campbell's Beef Chunky Style soup. Second, I want you to squat over my face and wrap your purple tongue around the scabs on my rock-hard crank. Third, when I'm about to blast a nut down your throat, I want to spread the crack of your flea-infested ass and have ya let loose with the Chunky Beef while screamin' at the top of your lungs "I've lost my baby! I've lost my baby!"
So what's the deal, bitch? Is is a date or what?
Wargasm
Walpole, Mass.


Hark; the iniminable literary voice of the notorious K. Randall Ball aka 'Bandit'.
Despite my best efforts, I could not convince Wyndham Triffid that Bandits' obvious talents rated him a place on the Triffid vacation reading list, and to this day I feel that was an unfair snub. Any fool can see the sheer magic which seeps from every lax, varicose orifice of Mr. Ball's prose. Well, you can.

INDIAN RITUAL: A SECOND-GENERATION BIKER PLUCKS A NEW FEATHER FOR THE FAMILY BONNET
(intro to article) Ya ever notice how some bros seem to have all the luck when it comes to finding restorable classic scoots? Me, I can't find my own asshole in the dark with both hands and a flashlight, much less hit a jackpot cache like this leg-wettin '47 Chief. But when ya get down to the actual factuals, as my uncle Zeke useta say, luck don't count for squat in this game. Instead, the cats who unearth these spoked gems from America's motor lode owe their "luck" to serious, unrelenting perseverance..."
and it continues.

On and on.

Here's a selection of Biker Mama Poetry. The original was illustrated** evocatively with a tender hand, a keen eye and a prosthetic foot by one Clark Calhoun, a man who knows his way around a womans' ass in a pair of cut offs:
THE BITCH ( I swear to you I am not making this up.)
She stands at the walls
and silently smiles.
She's packed a
hundred thousand
miles.
Seen 'em rise
and seen 'em fall,
the Bitch has fuckin' seen it all.
Packed behind some righteous bros,
laid 'em down
and let 'em go.
Polished chrome
throughout the night.
Dared some bitch
to pick a fight.
Ran for beers
and opened cans.
Did it all
to please that man.
Sewed the patches,
cooked his meals.
And dummied up
about the bills.
She loves every
moment living wild,
on the road,
Harley-style.

Jenny

And really, isn't that what its all about?

If I read of, or hear of, another oldschool biker lamenting how 'his bros' have been co-opted by the straight world I will flat fucking vomit. Those dipshits embraced the stereotype. Now they're crying about all the lames. Oh wah, the middle-management castrati are out riding SuperGlides, playing biker with their HOG rockers, wanting to buy some of that oldschool brand of BADASS. Well what the fuck did the fools expect; with all that lame shit out there defining the experience?

Adding further insult to injury, the preceding selections were not from EasyRider magazine proper, but what it became post-Guccione as it tottered along weakly, still dressed in its as-yet-unwashed 1971 bell bottoms: Biker Magazine.

Circa 1993.








* Although even then, I must admit to my credit, I figured it was bullshit. But hand it to 'em; they had the best rank jokes going, plus they showed full frontal.
Why yes, I have been a sick woman for a VERY long time indeed.
**oh how i wish i could get it to print.

20 comments:

  1. Yay I am first....He He He this made me laugh , and there is nothing funnier than some primped middle class saddo trying to buy into the stereo type , 'biker lite'.My family restore old british bikes , and my brother used to write his bikers diary for one of the magazines as he toured all the bike events in the UK and europe , but I can't for the life of me remember which mag it was (I think it was called Real Classic ) I know the diaries are on amazon in book form called Daisies Diaries (daisy was the name his daughter gave to the old restore triumph he staggered about on) I havn't forgiven the incontinent Daisy for pissing oil all over my brand new patio.
    My older brother has a Mid life crisis Hog - bless him

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  2. My mob have been in bikes since for ever. When we moved and I was a tiny, I shared a cot with an MZ engine. When I was a bit older, I rode in the side car of crappy old British bikes and went to the pub with old fools with pipes, drinking a coke through a straw listening to talk of bikes and watching pints being drank as they argued about the realiability of Bonnevilles. (BAD)
    When I was old enough, I rode pillion, and wore (sometimes still do, if I'm with the right people) a top with Back Street Heroes printed on it (Like EasyRider, only less so).
    Now I'm old enough to take out cups of tea and listen to Dad talking about them on warm summer days.
    When I was fourteen, I went to the Dragon Rally in Wales. In Febuary. On a Suzuki Dr Big. I was frozen, wet, and it snowed. One of my best memories.

    BIKES FOREVER!

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  3. I used to have a Vespa - can I still comment?

    *the icy glares force Frobi to shuffle silently out the comments room*

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  4. Anonymous4:22 AM

    I don't think I'll ever be able to stomach Campbell's Beef Chunky Style ever again.

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  5. Was it a PINK vespa Frobi ??????

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  6. Holy shit. Classic!

    BTW, do you think there's any chance K. Randall Ball was related to GG Allin?

    I know nothing about bikes, except the ones I find purty (loved to visit the Kiehl's in the E. Village back in the day - not for face cream, but to see their collection of old Indians).

    I dated a bisexual Druid priest once because he had a motorcyle. Does that count? He wasn't exactly a "Bandit" type... he merely pouted when his ex-gf tried to pick me up in the Denny's bathroom.

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  7. beast: ill be damned. how cool! i'm going looking for that book now!
    trumpets are viewed with a certain reverence here, esp the Bonneville. the older ones make tasty choppers! of course the first thing everyone does is rip out all the 'prince of darkness' electrics.
    noshit: yayayayayayay! where in the hell have you been???
    I had no idea! out of the closet, everyone!
    my daughter used to play with derby covers and air tools on the floor of the garage while the YB wrenched.
    you know what, my darling, that is worth a post of your own right there. YES. THATS A HINT.
    frobi; not only may you comment, you may do so with impunity. two wheels is good. anyway, last Oyster Run an entire battalion of vintage Vespa riders cruised the main drag in Anacortes to a standing ovation! buzz on over.
    beast: and a big pink helmet.
    wait; that came out wrong.
    oh hell, leave it.
    danator: a druid on two wheels eating in Denny's seems like one of those occurrences that would cause a tear in the fabric of space/time. now i have to look up GG Allin. i do so hope he's baaaaaaaaaaad.

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  8. qenny: evocative, wasn't it?
    Don't go and throw out all your favorite soup, though...just dump in lots of ketchup...no, that probably wouldn't help much.
    yeah, switch to chicken noodle.

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  9. Did The Bitch in the poem open beer cans with her snatch? That would have been impressive.

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  10. no shit sherlock - you did the dragon? cool. but did you ever do the elephant? (no, neither did i, but there was always some twat in back street heroes who decided to have a go). i spent my honeymoon at kent custom...

    and i loved AWOL magazine, a lot. i was on the cover once....

    did you get your bsh top for sending a photo into streetshots? best photo ever in there was a pic from a roadside of a proper roadworks sign that said "cats eyes removed" and someone had stuck a cardboard sign to it that said "dogs' arses corked". genius.

    um.

    i'll shut up now.

    sorry fn.

    \m/

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  11. Feck and bollox , I have a lot of images to cleanse after reading this lot , soup (any lumpy variety will do) enemas , frobi's big pink helmet , Biker Bitches opening cans with their snatches , bisexual druids .

    Its no wonder you lot find television banal.

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  12. Anonymous1:59 PM

    I pissed myself laughing when I read about Frobi having a Vespa.

    I can just see him now, twisting the throttle to full pelt, hurtling along the highways at 20mph, sounding like a hairdryer about to explode.

    *goes off for a piss*

    *yay! back again*

    Where was I? Oh yes, laughing at the image of Frobi-face.

    Hello Beast, by the way.

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  13. I refuse to post a blog as I have naught to say.

    ..not that it stops many other folks...

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  14. HELLO PIGGY AND TAZZY.

    Neuro, I cant imagine not having anything to say , I seem to have a stupid opinion on everything , I think its something to do with having testicles.

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  15. Dios mio! Quote removed from the bohemian scene I must say but fascinating nevertheless... a peek into a world not known by this bohemian but I must say you make for one fab tour guide! FO SHO!

    Hey, can I hide behind you? ;-P

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  16. surly: you go right ahead. now, really, you were on the cover of AWOL???? with your t-shirt hiked up around your forehead? wow!
    beast: we are pretty darned zany and madcap around here..boy, you gotta keep an eye out for our mad antics! wahoo!
    P&T: hey! back from ireland! still no snakes, huh? hope you lovebirds had had a smooth crossing.
    neur: well....dang! ok then!...um, yeah! woo! right on!
    good lord child go have some coffee.
    beast: doesn't usually stop her either..thats why i'm thinking 'caffeine defecit'.
    MizB: nothing to be afraid of! except getting soup on you, maybe...bring an umbrella next time.

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  17. You know I read this post and never commented, although I loved it. Maybe I'll recommend those notes from the lockdown to a friend who seems at her wits end to meet someone.

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  18. I wish I had all of my old issues. Lost them when I went in the service. I don't know if you can help me but I've had one poem in my head for all these years, something like "Laconia, Daytona, A biker and his scooter always ride alone". I can't remember if that was in the title or the poem, but it really meant something to me when I read it. Wish I knew the words. If you know it, can you send it my way?

    Many thanks,
    Kb

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