Moveitfred assumes his vast readership was shocked upon seeing the post of his beloved dog under the heading "Fat Bitch." This certainty has weighed on Moveitfred since his post. He wants to explain.
Moveitfred's fat black bitch is a female breeder for the local guide dog society. She is, in essence, a professional baby maker. The picture was taken of the fat black bitch before she was shipped off to the birthing house for this, her fourth and supposedly last, litter of pups.
Upon birthing and teating her brood, she will then be retired from birthing duties and will live out her days at La Casa de Fred. Undoubtedly fat, black, with streaks of bitchiness.
In other news, Moveitfred was scheduled to ride with Al Bangorhard two days ago, but Al pussed out. Al said his back was sore and he needed a mineral soak. Moveitfred hopes Al feels less sore.
In Al's absence Moveitfred did a kicker of a cyclocross ride through the local woods. Today Moveitfred went for a long hike in another stretch of forest and then popped in "The Big Lebowski" and hammered out 45 mins on the C2 rower down in the dungeon.
You got that right.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Dear Bloggers
Today Moveitfred is cozying up with a warm cup of cider while you are chattering over the now dried out, bone-crushing course at Gloucester.
Moveitfred knows blogger will endure heavy use tomorrow as you post your enthusiastic post-race fodder, and Moveitfred looks forward to skimming all you have to say.
However, Moveitfred wants you to know he has contacted the top brass at this outfit and you will be blocked from using the word "epic" in your posts.
Consider this simply a friendly public service announcement. You're welcome.
Moveitfred knows blogger will endure heavy use tomorrow as you post your enthusiastic post-race fodder, and Moveitfred looks forward to skimming all you have to say.
However, Moveitfred wants you to know he has contacted the top brass at this outfit and you will be blocked from using the word "epic" in your posts.
Consider this simply a friendly public service announcement. You're welcome.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
O' Freddo
Had to pull the plug on the waggle up to Gloucester this year.
Instead he'll just wait for the clever "New England Worlds" videos melded to the hip music to flood the web.
And he'll watch them.
In anticipation, Moveitfred got a nice 90 mins in on the purple puz this morning and parked it next to some boats for a rest.
Instead he'll just wait for the clever "New England Worlds" videos melded to the hip music to flood the web.
And he'll watch them.
In anticipation, Moveitfred got a nice 90 mins in on the purple puz this morning and parked it next to some boats for a rest.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Where's Al?
Moveitfred wants to add this about the irascible Al Bangorhard: He don't fuck around (pardon the blunt, caustic language).
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Glee
Moveitfred has got a little chirp in his whistle. The insolent Al Bangorhard intends to pull himself begrudgingly out from under his rock and join Moveitfred for some cycling in the countryside tomorrow.
Al tells Moveitfred he intends to set a plan in motion to bust our two heroes out from the drudgery of their factory jobs early. Something involving smoke bombs and feces.
Anywho, apparently Al intends to swim out in the always treacherous Long Island Sound as well.
So he says.
Al tells Moveitfred he intends to set a plan in motion to bust our two heroes out from the drudgery of their factory jobs early. Something involving smoke bombs and feces.
Anywho, apparently Al intends to swim out in the always treacherous Long Island Sound as well.
So he says.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Full Day
Moveitfred took purple cx bike out for two hours this morning and tore the shit out of the new grass over at the elementary school.
This evening, he and Moveitfred Jr. slayed up a bucketfullota of bluefish and porgies over at the sacred fishing grounds down the road.
Moveitfred's gonna walk Stupid Dog and call it a day.
This evening, he and Moveitfred Jr. slayed up a bucketfullota of bluefish and porgies over at the sacred fishing grounds down the road.
Moveitfred's gonna walk Stupid Dog and call it a day.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Soft Cheese
The ol' Montauk Hope ride got a rarin' start yesterday with plenty of standing around in the parking lot. Moveitfred volunteered to haul Mrs. Moveitfred and two other local compatriots and their bikes to begin this epic adventure.
Moveitfred unloaded the bikes and then leaned against Sexy Minivan with a cup o joe and watched the hoards arrive while the painfully slow process of registration, filling tires, and figuring out there to stash the lunch tickets ensued.
For many attempting this dash to the east end this is the one and only bike ride of the year. This is a ride where one can literally spot spongy housewives dabbing spider webs off their bikes with tissue. Also, plenty of this: a dude pulled in next to Moveitfred in an Escalade with a spotless Madone strapped to the back. He told his buds across the lot that he "just got it" the previous night over at the local Trek-n-Go across town. Man, Moveitfred'd like Trek dude's cash register take day before this thing. Moveitfred would buy a shithole in the mountains and leave all y'all the fuck to figure out what to do with this world....
But, back to business. Moveitfred got his crew stable and relatively pleased before inching out of the lot. One of the most terrifying 5 minutes of Moveitfred's life was negotiating Sexy Minivan out of that lot as dozens of once-a-year bikers wobbled around and compared chainring tattoos. But y'know, good for them and their fat asses.
Moveitfred got home to rouse the kids and figure out how to pack Sexy Minivan for the ride out east. He saw the note left by Mrs. Moveitfred that contained these words:
"Don't forget the brie."
Are you fucking kidding Moveitfred? The brie? Sometimes Moveitfred thinks there must have been a moment in time he completely missed when his life took a radical about-face.
Reluctantly Moveitfred packed the brie, his bike, and all the beer he could squeeze into the cooler, threw the kids in the car, and drove. Long drive short, Moveitfred did the Hamptons Crawl for much of the drive before finally arriving at the end point, but not The End, where Mrs. Moveitfred would conclude the pedalfest.
Brie intact.
When Mrs. Moveitfred triumphantly arrived at the beach Moveitfred gave her a peck on the cheek, the keys to the car, and notification that Moveitfred was about to unload his very red Serotta and be gone "a long time." The clambake/briefest beach bingo would have to go on without our hero.
Moveitfred's intention was simple. He wanted to kill a couple of hours roaming around the east tip of things until it was about time to pack up and head home. Pretty much sums up how Moveitfred rolls. And along the way he saw incredible things.
First significant stop, the bar at the Memory Motel for a beer.
Moveitfred can't think of a time he's ever stopped mid-ride for said beverage, but figured the Memory Motel was just as good as any place to do it. A few crusties and surfer types swilling as well, but in the end not as significant as Moveitfred thought it might be. He can't be faulted for imagining a life-changing experience, can he?
Next, another lengthy stop on the sunshiny bluff at Camp Hero where a shitload of fish were getting murdered.
Cheap sucks onshore couldn't reach them.
After nearly passing out and tumbling off the bluffs to his death, Moveitfred roused himself from his buzzed half-life snooze and back on the wheels. He continued out to what the natives call "The End"--that point of symbolic entitlement that says you have reached the conclusion of all that matters--and then latched onto the tailwind for a spirited hammerfest back to Hither Hills.
Where, thankfully, the brie already had been consumed and most of the crowd had dispersed. There's your end of summer.
Moveitfred unloaded the bikes and then leaned against Sexy Minivan with a cup o joe and watched the hoards arrive while the painfully slow process of registration, filling tires, and figuring out there to stash the lunch tickets ensued.
For many attempting this dash to the east end this is the one and only bike ride of the year. This is a ride where one can literally spot spongy housewives dabbing spider webs off their bikes with tissue. Also, plenty of this: a dude pulled in next to Moveitfred in an Escalade with a spotless Madone strapped to the back. He told his buds across the lot that he "just got it" the previous night over at the local Trek-n-Go across town. Man, Moveitfred'd like Trek dude's cash register take day before this thing. Moveitfred would buy a shithole in the mountains and leave all y'all the fuck to figure out what to do with this world....
But, back to business. Moveitfred got his crew stable and relatively pleased before inching out of the lot. One of the most terrifying 5 minutes of Moveitfred's life was negotiating Sexy Minivan out of that lot as dozens of once-a-year bikers wobbled around and compared chainring tattoos. But y'know, good for them and their fat asses.
Moveitfred got home to rouse the kids and figure out how to pack Sexy Minivan for the ride out east. He saw the note left by Mrs. Moveitfred that contained these words:
"Don't forget the brie."
Are you fucking kidding Moveitfred? The brie? Sometimes Moveitfred thinks there must have been a moment in time he completely missed when his life took a radical about-face.
Reluctantly Moveitfred packed the brie, his bike, and all the beer he could squeeze into the cooler, threw the kids in the car, and drove. Long drive short, Moveitfred did the Hamptons Crawl for much of the drive before finally arriving at the end point, but not The End, where Mrs. Moveitfred would conclude the pedalfest.
Brie intact.
When Mrs. Moveitfred triumphantly arrived at the beach Moveitfred gave her a peck on the cheek, the keys to the car, and notification that Moveitfred was about to unload his very red Serotta and be gone "a long time." The clambake/briefest beach bingo would have to go on without our hero.
Moveitfred's intention was simple. He wanted to kill a couple of hours roaming around the east tip of things until it was about time to pack up and head home. Pretty much sums up how Moveitfred rolls. And along the way he saw incredible things.
First significant stop, the bar at the Memory Motel for a beer.
Moveitfred can't think of a time he's ever stopped mid-ride for said beverage, but figured the Memory Motel was just as good as any place to do it. A few crusties and surfer types swilling as well, but in the end not as significant as Moveitfred thought it might be. He can't be faulted for imagining a life-changing experience, can he?
Next, another lengthy stop on the sunshiny bluff at Camp Hero where a shitload of fish were getting murdered.
Cheap sucks onshore couldn't reach them.
After nearly passing out and tumbling off the bluffs to his death, Moveitfred roused himself from his buzzed half-life snooze and back on the wheels. He continued out to what the natives call "The End"--that point of symbolic entitlement that says you have reached the conclusion of all that matters--and then latched onto the tailwind for a spirited hammerfest back to Hither Hills.
Where, thankfully, the brie already had been consumed and most of the crowd had dispersed. There's your end of summer.
Friday, September 10, 2010
It wasn't a rock
Shout out goes to Paul Sadoff, the man at Rock Lobster Bicycles, for building a superb frame this summer for Mrs. Moveitfred.
Mrs. Moveitfred has been pushing the blackie/pinkie machine for a few weeks and has her first big ride for the Montauk Hope in the morning.
Moveitfred has been cleaning/tuning the bike this afternoon and, upon close inspection, has gained even more appreciation and respect for Paul and his work. For a base-model steel tig frame he did some clean, precise, and even detailed work. Shit be tight, yo.
In short, Mrs. Moveitfred will stand out among the hoards of Specializedkleintreks with the sweetest damn bike in the crowd. Nice work, Paul.
Mrs. Moveitfred has been pushing the blackie/pinkie machine for a few weeks and has her first big ride for the Montauk Hope in the morning.
Moveitfred has been cleaning/tuning the bike this afternoon and, upon close inspection, has gained even more appreciation and respect for Paul and his work. For a base-model steel tig frame he did some clean, precise, and even detailed work. Shit be tight, yo.
In short, Mrs. Moveitfred will stand out among the hoards of Specializedkleintreks with the sweetest damn bike in the crowd. Nice work, Paul.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Labor
Moveitfred removed the computer from his road bike today.Moveitfred is now computerless.
Done with that.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Dummy
Everyone should know by now that Moveitfred and Al Bangorhard created the universe.Doesn't take a fucking genius.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Fixin' Shit
Moveitfred got his neighbor, Jimmy, to snap a photog of him doing some yoga this afternoon.Since returning from LA, Moveitfred has felt the effects of too much lazing at the beach and them In-N-Out Burgers out there. So it's been strict as shit back to the hardcore for Freddo, including light spins on the bike and yoga.
Correct: Fred is not fucking around.
Moveitfred plans to explore the often overlooked aspect in training: flexibility.
Heywood Jablome sent Moveitfred a blog link for flexibility training that Moveitfred has since lost, but it covered some type of west coast approach popular in the SF Bay area. Anyway, Moveitfred didn't have the attention span to view/read/follow the instructions anyway, however Heywood explained to Moveitfred that the training involves repeated toe touches and something Heywood called "Thigh Flutterbies" with a partner.
Trouble is, Moveitfred doesn't have a partner.
Unless you count Al Bangorhard.
But Moveitfred doesn't.
Monday, August 30, 2010
What Else Is New
Moveitfred is back home after an electrifying 4 weeks out in the Land of LA.
But enough about all that.
Back to the Rockpile today. Moveitfred bike-commuted his ass into the factory where the indelible Al Bangorhard greeted our hero with a swift kick in the nads.
Moveitfred and Mr. Bangorhard share what some might label an "office" but what is really a den of excess and depravity among an otherwise functioning workplace. The real issue is the fucking incessant heavy metal noise Mr. Bangorhard channels through his circa 1970's receiver and polished oak speakers.
Mr. Bangorhard wants to rock and roll all night, and party every day.
Only other news of worth at the factory is that the management installed Dual Flush Handles in the unisex employee growler.
Moveitfred has had issues with sharing his bath with broads (and no insult meant whatsoever with the use of the term "broads" in this context, it's more a representation of Moveitfred's unease with the situation) over the years, but now he needs to pay attention whether he should toggle up for liquid waste and down for solid? Please.
You can bet your ass the union will hear about this.
Moveitfred felt like a slug on his bike, although his clocked time into the factory was about average pace. Now, the big decision: Moveitfred took the early shift at the factory on Tuesdays and Thursdays with a scheduled clock-in at 6:30am. He's been considering lights for a 5:30am commute through the boscage of suburban Long Island...
But enough about all that.
Back to the Rockpile today. Moveitfred bike-commuted his ass into the factory where the indelible Al Bangorhard greeted our hero with a swift kick in the nads.
Moveitfred and Mr. Bangorhard share what some might label an "office" but what is really a den of excess and depravity among an otherwise functioning workplace. The real issue is the fucking incessant heavy metal noise Mr. Bangorhard channels through his circa 1970's receiver and polished oak speakers.
Mr. Bangorhard wants to rock and roll all night, and party every day.
Only other news of worth at the factory is that the management installed Dual Flush Handles in the unisex employee growler.
Moveitfred has had issues with sharing his bath with broads (and no insult meant whatsoever with the use of the term "broads" in this context, it's more a representation of Moveitfred's unease with the situation) over the years, but now he needs to pay attention whether he should toggle up for liquid waste and down for solid? Please.
You can bet your ass the union will hear about this.
Moveitfred felt like a slug on his bike, although his clocked time into the factory was about average pace. Now, the big decision: Moveitfred took the early shift at the factory on Tuesdays and Thursdays with a scheduled clock-in at 6:30am. He's been considering lights for a 5:30am commute through the boscage of suburban Long Island...
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Pledge Allegiance
Moveitfred switched hats and attended the Angels game last night. And you're damn effin' straight he shoved a little kid out of the way to grab this batting practice homer.
Moveitfred is dressed and rarin' to do two hours through the Cali hills on his Piece Of Shit Cali bike.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Prickly Balls
While on a run through the canyon this morning, Moveitfred paused to marvel at this wonder.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Padres
A name that strikes fear, for sure.
Moveitfred threw two elbows to get a foul tip, but some little shit out-grabbed our hero for the prize. Moveitfred is certain he's lost some fast-twitch fiber in his advancing age.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Partners
Moveitfred spent the a.m. dialing in his wife's old road bike stashed out here in Cali to sort of fit his son. Got within a reasonable distance of fit, then took the bad-boy (and his new wheels) out for a spin around the reservoir.Lizards and quail effed with our heros.
Son complained about stresses to the man tackle.
FYI.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
LAX
Moveitfred so far had to brush off two advocates for the homeless and one nut pushing Jesus outside baggage claim.
Fucking Los Angeles.
Fucking Los Angeles.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Gone, Babycakes, Gone
Moveitfred spun out the legs for two hours yesterday in the waning light. Today it's pack and prep for the flight to the other side of things.
Moveitfred gonna be gone a long time on the vacationation. Be back in time as they wind the factory back into production mode.
"The sun has charred
the other side of
the world and come
back to us
and painted the smoke
over our heads
an imperial violet.
It is 5 am
and you are listening
to Los Angeles."
Moveitfred gonna be gone a long time on the vacationation. Be back in time as they wind the factory back into production mode.
"The sun has charred
the other side of
the world and come
back to us
and painted the smoke
over our heads
an imperial violet.
It is 5 am
and you are listening
to Los Angeles."
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
shhhhh...
Moveitfred just sneaked his ass back into the third floor suite here at the beautiful Hampton Inn. What's left of family fred is asleep.
Moveitfred destroyed the complementary breakfast down in the lobby merely moments ago. Know what it's like when shit be all set up a certain way and then YOU enter the space and announce, "No, no mutherfuckers...I own this fuckin' place now!"
Moveitfred is confident his loyal readership knows what he's talking about. Moveitfred went to the front and took one helluva pull on that breakfast. Fucking waffle press was smokin' balls, yo.
Moveitfred Jr. should be tearing through warmups at the pool about now with Mrs. Moveitfred in charge. This afternoon Moveitfred's daughter hits the venue and just may bust out one of the best times in the country this year....
Moveitfred destroyed the complementary breakfast down in the lobby merely moments ago. Know what it's like when shit be all set up a certain way and then YOU enter the space and announce, "No, no mutherfuckers...I own this fuckin' place now!"
Moveitfred is confident his loyal readership knows what he's talking about. Moveitfred went to the front and took one helluva pull on that breakfast. Fucking waffle press was smokin' balls, yo.
Moveitfred Jr. should be tearing through warmups at the pool about now with Mrs. Moveitfred in charge. This afternoon Moveitfred's daughter hits the venue and just may bust out one of the best times in the country this year....
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Rollin'
Moveitfred just turned in final grades for the two online classes he taught this summer. Moveitfred prefers not wasting time actually calculating final grades and instead simply records an A for each student.
And you can decide for yourself if that's how Moveitfred rolls.
Tomorrow Moveitfred drives his kids to a big-ass fucking swim meet at parts up yonder for the weekend. Upon return Moveitfred jumps on an airplane and flies the fuck out of Dodge for the rest of the summer.
And you can decide for yourself if that's how Moveitfred rolls.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Dogs
Y'know, you gotta love the labrador. But they are some stupid fucking dogs.Moveitfred slept in and then squeezed 60 minutes on the bicycle midday as soon as the heat index reached its peak. Then he went swimming in a pool. Then he ate some cheesecake.
Right now Moveitfred should be grading the final papers in his summer class that ended last week. But he's too fucking tired of reading the idiotic drivel.
Instead he's been emailing Heywood Jablome. Heywood and fred plan to overthrow the planet, and they're just working out some of the details.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Another Average Day
This is the sight of a happy Moveitfred. Last night's wicked electrical and wind shit broke open the best day in weeks. Add to the greatness Moveitfred Jr. in basketball camp all day, so Moveitfred got out for a good long one in the breeze. Additional added bonus: no fucking flies biting his ass.
Months ago Moveitfred sent out one of his pile of shithole scripts to the greatest screenwriting competition on the planet: The Nicholl. Of the 200 million scripts entered, Moveitfred got word today that his did not make the quarterfinal cut of about 300 or so. However, according to the academy experts at Nicholl, he was one of a few very talented a-holes who got a "ps" added to the rejection with some notes on the script explaining how close it was to making the cut.
It's sort of like getting kicked in the nuts then having a podium girl slather some lard on your swollen nads.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Back in Black
Moveitfred is glad to be back home and mowing the grass. It's warm and steamy, but not Arkansas warm and steamy. Moveitfred even wore a black t-shirt. Badass, yeah, he knows.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Things that suck today:
1. This weather. Moveitfred doesn't like wet.
2. Work. Moveitfred has ignored his responsibilities for too long.
3. Preparing to fly on an a-e-roplane. Moveitfred doesn't like packing, worrying about how to get to the airport, and thinking about fast movement above the earth in a tube.
4. Staying in Arkansas. See below:
2. Work. Moveitfred has ignored his responsibilities for too long.
3. Preparing to fly on an a-e-roplane. Moveitfred doesn't like packing, worrying about how to get to the airport, and thinking about fast movement above the earth in a tube.
4. Staying in Arkansas. See below:
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