Aug 31, 2017

History Of Wackemall, Part 70: Sir Bernard Williams

Sir Bernard Arthur Owen Williams (1929-2003) was an English moral philosopher, Knightbridge Professor of Philosophy at the University of Cambridge and Deutsch Professor of Philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley, Williams was well known for his efforts to reorient the study of moral philosophy to psychology, history, and to the Greeks.

Colin McGinn described him as an "analytical philosopher with the soul of a general humanist." It was said he was skeptical about attempts to create a foundation for moral philosophy. Some said that he demanded of philosophy that it "come to terms with, and contain, the difficulty and complexity of human life."

But perhaps one of his least known statements expressed his love for all things Wackemall:

"We may pass violets looking for roses. We may pass wackemall looking for victory."

The History of Wackemall rewrites history in ways you've never seen history before, putting into perspective people and events in ways few ever believed existed. This edition of the History of Wackemall has been made possible without the financial support of the Piedmont Center for Sustainability but they're laughing just the same. And by Lies. It takes lots of lies to fill a history book and here at Wackemall we need all the lies we can get if we are to ever finish this book.

Please continue reading History Of Wackemall, Part 71: Sir Walter Raleigh

Attack Of The Breakfast Sandwiches

From an embedded, undisclosed location, our newest rare reporter, Burger N Fries brings us the latest Wackemall Network News exclusive updates from the Fast Food Wars:

Double Beef Double Cross

McGriddle lead them in the back,
a kids pack in his hand.
Cream and Sugar screamed aloud,
their presence he'd not planned.
McMuffin came in laughing loud
as he leveled deadly blows.
Cream and Sugar screamed no more
and the gravy stained in flows.

Biscuits kept a lookout
as the arches, they went black.
Who'd a thought an inside job?
We thought they had a pact?
Big Mac and the Whopper,
their plans had come undone
and Ronald, he was laying low,
not having any fun.

You know, because there really is nothing better to do....

Wackemall News Network is made possible by grease. And cholesterol, lots of cholesterol guaranteed to kill us all long before the Fast Food Wars ever end.

What, you thought this story was going to have a happy ending?

Aug 30, 2017

It's About That Time


The time has come,
I need a break,
no more regrets,
no more mistakes.
So saddle up, boys,
it's time to go
to mountains high
and valleys low.

So twist those throttles,
let's hear 'em roar!
Tell the world
we want no more.
Give me freedom
or give me death,
just give me wind
my every breath.

So saddle up, boys,
let's make our way
to places that
we dream today.
Tie your gear
on back your steed
for that is all
you really need.

Give me freedom,
just thin white lines,
vistas wide,
no troubled minds.
We've waited months,
it's time to go
on back your steed
your mind aglow.

The time has come,
I'll meet you there.
No more regrets,
no more dispair.
Vistas wide
and monutains high,
we'll make our mark
upon the sky.

Aug 29, 2017

Special Delivery: Part 4, Damsel In Distress

Continued from Special Delivery and Special Delivery: Part 3, The Men Behind The Many Curtians

 Ronny and Frank met at their favorite watering hole, parked their Harleys our front and bellied up to the bar. "Frank," Ronny said,"You ain't gonna believe who left my house right before you called."

"I might," Frank replied, "Run it by me."

"The FBI." Ronny answered.

"Let me guess," Frank said, "They was wantin' to know if you knew what Billy was up to."

"You got it," Ronny agreed.

"They come by my place about 2 weeks ago," Frank recalled, "I reckon they're talkin' to everyone Billy ever knew."

"That'll keep them busy," Ronny laughed.

"At least 50 years," Frank laughed as he finished his beer. "Now you really ain't going to believe who I just talked to."

"Who?" Ronny inquired.

"Too many ears," Frank answered. "Let's ride."


Major General Erik Kurilla sat in his office in Fort Bragg, North Carolina looking over reports. It just didn't make sense to him. A terrorist entity led by two people with no violent histories had previously fired four GPS enabled mini missiles into key locations in Washington, DC, never made any demands, blew up the nation's capital by wresting control of a hidden ICBM away from the military, and was now on a nationwide rampage setting off IUDs in seemingly unconnected public places all over the country. And according to his medical records, Billy Jones should have died months ago.

Erik Kurilla believed what was left of the United States Government was chasing ghosts. But there was no one else to chase. "Who is running the FBI now?" he asked his secretary.

"I don't know, Sir," his secretary replied.

"Well find out," General Kurilla ordered, "and get that person on the phone."

"Yes Sir,"

"And find out why everyone is being so nice all of a sudden. All these nice solders are giving me the creeps."


 Working in her office at Peterson Air Force Base in El Paso County, Colorado, General Lori J. Robinson was still puzzled as to how a single ICBM had been fired without prior knowledge by anyone at NORAD. Bur what was even more puzzling was the fact that the nuclear missel that had long been hidden beneath a barn in northern Virginia wasn't even listed in NORAD's inventory of nuclear weapons. "How many more are out there we don't know about," she said to herself.

"Excuse me," her secretary asked, "I didn't hear what you said."

"Find me everything you can find on strategic arms reduction treaties," General Robinson ordered. "I want the locations of every missile silo the US Government ever decommissioned, and the names and whereabouts of every single buyer."


When Carley arrived at Frank's shop to drop off her van and pick up her scooter, Frank introduced her to Ronny, Paul Resh, and Paul's son Dusty, "Wow," she said, "I wasn't expecting so many people."

"We got to thinking," Frank said, "you can't continue to go bumming all over the country. You need a place to stay a while, get a job, and save up some money. Sooner or later you'll get caught shoplifting or something and you'll end up in jail."

"Well yea," Carley agreed, "But what else can I do?"

"That's where Dusty comes in," Paul said. "You and Dusty are about the same age. He can introduce you to his friends and help you find a job and a place to stay."

"But if I try to get a job I'll have to show my ID and give them my social," Carley exclaimed.

"No" Ronny said, "you have to show then somebody's ID and social."

"And it just so happens," Dusty grinned, "I know a guy who knows a guy who can make you exactly what you need right over there in Burlington."

"Wow," Carley exclaimed. "Y'all sure know how to make a girl feel welcome."

"Let's go see how that scooter fits," Frank smiled. "We might need to adjust the handlebars or something to fit you better."

Parking Meters Complain: Adding Insult To Injury

Ever talked to a parking meter? Billy does it all the time and records their replies as the world's first and only parking meter poet reporting for the Wackemall News Network. Today Billy talks to parking meters in Greensboro, North Carolina to get their reaction to all those ugly green bicycles that have been left lying all over town. 

What's That, A Bicycle?

Please don't leave it there.
Chained to me I cannot see
and just don't think it fair.
It's bad enough you need not pay,
you add insult to injury.
There you go walking off
your two wheels chained to me.

But it's not my job!

And to think, you thought he made this stuff up.

Aug 28, 2017

Why Did Old Cars And Trucks Have Carburetors?

When I was 16 I bought a 1955 Ford F-100 Pick-up with a 292 V8 engine. When it came time to rebuild the carb I was at a complete loss as to how to do so. I found books and studied.

While I was studying I became curious as to the need for a carburetor. And being the carb was already off my truck I simply stuck the loose end of the fuel line down the intake and cranked that bitch up! RAN LIKE A RAPED APE!!!!!

Problem was: it only knew one speed.... you guessed it-- flat out wide open.

So by dragging the brakes, slipping the clutch, and turning the ignition switch on and off repeatedly I destroyed a set of bias ply tires sending them up in smoke, got her back to the house, and resumed my studies.

That was when I learned not only the need for carburetors but how to rebuild them.

No, you don't need
carburetors or fuel injection to make a car go, but you are going to need something to make it go slow.

Armageddon Strikes

Hello, this is Burger N. Fries reporting to you live for the Wackemall News Network from an undisclosed location with the latest updates from the Fast Food War. Stay tuned for fat!

The Calm Before The Storm

Big Mac laid upon the road,
a truck had mashed him flat.
The Burger King called for the hit,
said, "I've had enough of that."
Taco John stood just outside
the white castle of the king,
said, "Wow, these guys, they play real rough,
I hope nobody sings."

Carl Jr., he was waiting there
as Big Mac hit the road.
Could have stopped it but he didn't try,
at least that's what I'm told.
And Ronald, yes he's running fast
while the fries, they weigh him down,
and the Dairy Queen is waiting,
hoping Ronald comes to town.

Barnacle Bill and the Eagle Boys
came to do the dirty work.
Black Dog, he came from Brazil
to hit 'em where it hurts.
Dixie Lee, she said to me,
"It's going to be real bad
'cause Brek is on the Chef Express
and they say he's really mad."

"Georgie Pie, he had to die,
Carnivores, they are long gone.
Bembos ride the subway
singing Spanish fighting songs.
Fazoli's in the Philippines
but they say he's coming too,
with Mango Brutus at his side,
better watch out for those two."

But all is quiet as we wait--
Everyone has taken sides.
A calm before the storm erupts
as Telepizza cries.
A golden fork stuck in his back,
Wimpy sings a different song
while Gino sleeps with Roy
wishing Biff would come back home.

Aug 26, 2017

An Ally To An Unjust Cause Is An Invader Just The Same.

Need I explain?

And people ask, "What did we ever do to them?"

Dodge Dart

My wife was homesick and had been wanting to visit her family in Florida so I promised I get her a reliable and practicable car to make the trip. Dodge Darts were practical when I found one in the classified ads of the local news and fishwrap that only needed a little work. I bought it explaining to my wife that given a few weeks I would have the car in excellent condition ready to go anywhere. All I needed was a few more paychecks. Six cylinder, 3 speed on the floor, clean car, needed very little work-- just tires and the clutch arm that ran from the engine to the frame. Took all the money I had to buy it so I promised I'd fix everything with the next 2 pay checks.

Honestly, I would have liked to keep the car for myself but I had a pick-up and a Harley so I thought it only fair I buy her a car.

Friday came and I went home with money in my hands. She and the car were gone. I figured she was just over at a friend's house. Ten o'clock that night my phone rings. She's in Rockingham, North Carolina about 90 miles south of Greensboro with her second flat tire and no more spares.

I call my Daddy who is a close personal friend of the owner of what was at that time the largest used auto parts company in the Southeastern USA. By eleven my brother and I are headed to Rockingham with a good used tire mounted on a wheel.

My brother and I worked out a plan. When we get there we bullshit her into thinking we need to move the car a few feet to make it easier to change the tire even if we don't need to move the car. My brother moves the car. I jack it up, change the tire, and the instant the car hits the ground he drives off leaving her stuck with me. She'll not go to Florida that night. I put the flat tire, jack, and lug wrench in the back of my truck.

She's mad as hell but comes back to Greensboro with me. I mean, it's 1:00 AM, she's already walked miles to and from the phone, what else was she going to do?

Early the next morning I put 4 brand new tires on her car and promise that if she will only wait one more week I'll fix the clutch and the car will be ready for anything.

The next Friday I collect my paycheck, go buy the parts I need, and come home from work only to find her gone... again.

Three days later she calls me from his sister's house in Florida. Car is broke down and an alligator ate her cat. "What am I supposed to do about it?" I asked.

"Send me some money to fix the car," she says, still crying over the loss of her cat.

"How much?"

I don't remember the price she told me but it was far more money than what I had and more than I had invested in the entire car. After much discussion I learned that some friend of some friend was going to take out the entire transmission and install another type of transmission there in her sister's yard.

Now being a pretty good wrench bender myself and already knowing what the problem was, there was no way I was paying for that. I insisted she find someone else but the idiot had already pulled the good transmission from the car. I told her to "Get a job."

I miss that car.

Aug 25, 2017

Special Delivery: Part 3, The Men Behind The Many Curtians

Continued from Special Delivery and Special Delivery: Part 2, A Girl's Gotta Do...

General Lori J. Robinson,  Commander  in charge of NORAD, sat at the head of a long table of United States Military Officers from every branch of service answering their questions. "The missile that was fired on Washington, DC was not fired by anyone inside the United States Military,"General Robinson insisted.

"So who fired it?" another General asked.

"Yes, who fired it?" an Admiral asked.

"We've told you everything we know," General Robinson  answered.

"So the entire United States Government including the Pentagon and the Joint Chiefs of Staff are all wiped out and no one knows anything?" Major General Erik Kurilla of the US Army 82nd Airborne asked.

"It would appear so," General Robinson answered.

"And who are these people who are running this so called government in Chicago?" another general asked. "Who put them in charge?"

"They're a consortium of international bankers," General Robinson answered. "They put themselves in charge."

"By whose authority?" the Admiral asked.

"By the authority that they control the world's economy. They control our funding. They're the banks. Without their money we can't pay our troops." General Robinson answered. "Right now their gun is bigger than all our guns combined.

"So what about this Billy Jones and Carley whatever her name is?" the admiral asked. "How long are we going to continue to allow them to continue to run wild all over the country blowing things up and killing people?"

"We don't even know if Billy and Carley ever really existed," General Robinson answered. Everyone that could have known died when that ICBM struck Washington."


In Greensboro, North Carolina, therapist April Forsbrey LPC had spent the entire day in the local FBI office answering questions about Billy Jones. As his therapist, April had probably spent more time talking to Billy in recent years than anyone had. She had been hesitant to talk to investigators but as she had been presented with a warrant the first time they came to see her, she really had no choice. Ms Forsbrey answered every question honestly. "Thank you for your cooperation," the FBI agent told her. "If we need anything else we'll be back in touch?"

"Can I ask you a question?" April asked.

"Sure," the agent replied.

"I know Billy would be long dead by now," April said. "And I know the FBI has all his medical records so why are you still chasing him?"

"Honestly," the agent replied, "I don't know."


Folks in and around Greensboro were becoming nicer every day. The nice gas that had laced almost every carbonated beverage sold for miles for miles and miles around the city was effecting almost everyone. Even the local Coca-cola, Pepsi, Canada Dry, and RC Cola bottling plants had taken in loads of laced carbon dioxide and distributed it for miles around. Knowing that would be the back-up plan was Carley's reason for going there.

But Carly needed to get rid of her minivan and find something that was cheaper on gas-- something that didn't identify her on a license plate should they ever figure out her last name. Before he died, Billy had told her of an old friend, a fellow biker named Crazy Frank who bought and sold a few bikes and cars and just might be able to help her out.

After hearing her story, Frank Turner could only shake his head. "That's the craziest thing I ever heard of," he said.

"You don't believe me?" Carley asked. "Billy said you'd help."

"Oh I believe you," Frank laughed. "Billy is the only person I ever knew that could do something like that then up and die of natural causes before he got caught. Besides, Billy never did like to hurt nobody."

"So you'll help me?" Carley asked again.

"I'll find you one of them step through scooters," Frank said. "They're dependable and easy to ride but folks 'round here don't ride 'em 'cause they look like mopeds. I'll even put tags and insurance on it. And I'll give you a good price for your van. Come on back in a couple of days and I'll have something ready for you."

"Thank you so much," Carley said. "Billy told me you were a good man."

"Too good," Frank said to himself as Carley drove away. "Why is it that every time I drink a soda-pop I feel like giving everything away? I need a beer. I think I'll call ol' Ronny Talley and see what he's been up to. He's not going to believe this."

Please continue reading Special Delivery: Part 4, Damsel In Distress

Why Wasn't It A Problem Before?

A lot of people have been asking this of late. Allow me to put it into terms that even us men can understand.

So your wife's Chevy is 4 quarts low on oil but that's not a problem because she doesn't check the oil and you are unaware of the fact that she doesn't check the oil. But very soon it will be a problem-- an expensive problem.

Your lack of awareness does not mean that problems don't exist. Your lack of awareness just means you won't be prepared for the pain and expense these problems will bring when they manifest themselves into your lives. Learn, discover, check the dipstick for yourself once in a while, Dipstick.

Aug 24, 2017

Where There's Smoke There's Burgers

Epic Proportions

Burgers and fries, burgers and fries,
time to choose weapons, burgers and fries.
Ronald and Wendy, BK, 'Jangles too,
they're ready for battle, the prize me and you.

All the King's horses could not fill the meat
so they danced on the tables right out in the street
for the new revolution, the call to wage more
of epic proportions, it's super-sized war!

And so begins my tale, the story that would last a cholesterol laden lifetime, the battles, the mystery, romance, intrigue and yes, the fat that would someday be called Fast Food Delights, the story of the Fast Food War a story that begins in the middle, goes both ways, then circles back around the the beginning. Or is that the ending? I'm never sure. Go ahead, take a bite, taste it for yourself.

Aug 23, 2017

Special Delivery: Part 2, A Girl's Gotta Do...

Continued from Special Delivery

Carley had been on the run since the death of Billy Jones, doing anything she could do just to stay alive. Life had become very different than Carley was used to. Having grown up on what had once been a Virginia plantation, schooled at Berkley, and worked in Silicon Valley she had thought herself ready for anything life would throw at her but how was she to know she would be branded a terrorist for a nuke attack on Washington, DC. that she knew nothing about.

I guess that's what I get for trying to save the world, Carley thought to herself as she slipped a can of mixed vegetables into her purse inside a busy convenience store and walked out without paying. Like a lot of people since the worldwide economic implosion that followed the explosion in Washington, Carley's main source of income was bartering what she could shoplift.

She had taken Billy back to the desert north of Barstow but by the time they got there everyone was gone and everything had been bombed out. Since he couldn't walk she made shelter and cared for him the best she could until finally he just stopped breathing. Then she set out on her own knowing that as long as the same group of international bankers based out of Chicago continued to run the country she would always be considered a terrorist, and always be in hiding.

Meanwhile, the media continued to report that she and Billy were carrying out terrorists attacks throughout the country. "If only I were as dangerous as they make me out to be," Carley mumbled as she walked away from the store.


In a restaurant high above the City of Chicago, Jamie Dimon of JPMorgan Chase & Co. and Douglas Flint  of HSBC Holdings PLC met for dinner. "It's a shame the radiation levels are so high in New York." Flint said.

"I know," Dimon replied. "I would have rather made the new capital there instead of here."

"These Midwesterners are hardly any different than Southerners," Flint exclaimed. "They're such a nightmare to work with.

"I suspect at least half of them are Southerners," Dimon agreed.

"So what are we going to do about Billy Jones?" Flint asked.

"We're not going to do anything."

"We're not?"

"Not a thing."

"Do you mind explaining how we can continue to allow this terrorist to keep running around blowing things up?" Flint asked.

"Billy Jones isn't blowing anything up," Dimon answered. "He's been dead for months."

"How do you know?"

"Found his body in the desert."

"So who is going around blowing things up? Flint asked. "Pray tell it isn't us. Is it?"

"Well," Dimon explained, "as the real terrorists seem to have lost their nerve someone has to make sure their work gets done. Someone has to keep the military-industrial complex in constant need of more loans to buy more weapons, right?"


Wayne Washburn, the inventory control manager for Airgas National Welders in Greensboro, North Carolina was shocked that the FBI was in his office and asking him questions about Billy Jones. Wayne and Billy had both worked for National Welders many years before but it had been years since Wayne had seen Billy. While the FBI assured Wayne that he wasn't a suspect and that they were simply gathering as much background information as possible about the man they claimed was now running all over the nation blowing things up, Wayne couldn't help but feel just a little bit nervous.

What Wayne was completely unaware of was that while he was talking to the FBI, a tanker load of Carbon Dioxide gas as is bottled where Wayne works and sold to soft drink vendors all over the area, was being unloaded in the back. And that tanker load of CO2 had been laced with the same nice gas that Billy had previously fired in the 4 tiny missiles he launched in Washington, DC.

This method, while not as fast as getting the government to release vast quantities of nice gas to the atmosphere, would still allow Billy's friends to eventually spread kindness to hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people. And why not begin in Billy's home town?

Please continue reading Special Delivery: Part 3, The Men Behind The Many Curtians

Cult Assembles Downtown

Raleigh, NC-- Journalists for Wackemall Network News are in the State Capitol today as thousands of cult members gather to protest the unjust working conditions forced on meters here in North Carolina where Minister Onda Pole had the following to say,

Offerings For The Parking Gods

I just stand here waiting
on top of this pole--
don't have any pride,
don't have any soul
but I'll get your money
just you wait and see--
the price you must pay
for parking by me.

Your offerings to the parking gods are tax deductible.

Aug 22, 2017

Two Eagles Talking

"You're wrong."

"No, you're wrong."

"That's not what I said."

"Yes it was."

"No it wasn't."

"I know what I said."

"I know what you said too."

"Oh yea, what did I say, then?"

"You said what I said you said."

"No I didn't, I said what I said you said."

"Hey, that was pretty good."

"I know, if we keep practicing we'll soon be ready to run for office."

This edition of Two Eagles Talking, an exclusive of, was made possible by feathers. And bird poop. Lots of bird poop.

Photo credit: Tim Van Horn.

Aug 21, 2017

Gently Used Eclipse Viewer

It's not every day you find ads for eclipse viewers on Craigslist so as soon as I saw this one I saved it and stashed it away in the Lost and Found along with all the other stuff no people left littering the Internet.

But $100 seems a little steep even for a box of cereal that's only available to astronauts.

Aug 20, 2017

Burger Boogie Time!

Fast Food Beats

Wendy rang the Taco Bell,
Burger King, he played guitar,
Ronald clowned on center stage,
sang, “I’m gonna be a star.

Chick Filet, she danced so fine
showing off her perfect thighs,
teasing Big Mac, “If you dance with me
I’ll give you my surprise.”

But the Fries, they’re still dancing,
fries dancing in the street,
dancing to that funky sound,
boogie to the fast food beat.

Big Mac said, “Babe, I can’t dance
for I fear I’ll fall apart,”
So Chick, she danced with Wendy
and broke poor Big Mac’s heart.

And the party lasted hours,
all day and through the night
while the Combo Classics played their tunes
and dodged the French Fries’ fights.

But the Fries, they’re still dancing,
fries dancing in the street,
dancing to that funky sound,
boogie to the fast food beat.

Then finally come morning light
when the party had died down
fast food scattered everywhere,
strewn all about the ground.

But the Fries, they’re still dancing,
fries dancing in the street,
dancing to that funky sound,
boogie to the fast food beat.

dancing to that funky sound,
boogie to the fast food beat.

A lull in the battle? The USO of fast food armies? Perhaps. Stay tuned to Wackemall Network News for complete coverage of the Fast Food Wars made possible without the support of Spike Magazine.

Aug 18, 2017

Where Your Rights End

You have the right to have an opinion. What you don't have is the right to force your opinion on others. And the fact that you continue to do so proves you have no compassion for your fellow man.

Get over yourself, you're not that important.

Aug 17, 2017

Special Delivery

It was hot. The kind of hot that no matter how long you ran the cold water from the faucet it still ran warm enough to bathe. I'd be taking my pills with warm water just as I'd done most every morning since I began my trip almost 3 weeks before.

I hadn't slept well. Besides being hot, the air conditioner in my motel room just outside of Washington, DC was noisy. This room would have rented for $59 in most places but here in Arlington it was $259 and I was lucky to find it. Camping in Washington suburbs is a good way to get found so I thought it better I spring for the room. I hadn't rode a borrowed Triumph Speed Triple all the way from the deserts north of Barstow, California to the suburbs of Washington, DC. to get caught now.

Why a bike? Because they would be looking for a truck. No one was ready to believe my friends had figured out how to build 4 missiles small enough to carry across the country on a motorcycle. Why four? One each for the White House, Senate, House of Representatives, and Supreme Court. Was President Trump ever going to be surprised when one of those tiny missiles came crashing thru the windows of the Oval Office.

So why weren't we firing on the Pentagon? Because if our plan worked the military would think our plan had failed until it was too late to stop us. Besides, since 911 the Pentagon has been reinforced to the point that our tiny missiles would never penetrate its massive walls. Our tiny missiles can simply fly right through windows and doors of those other buildings.

And if our plan failed? Well if you're alive to read this you've already experienced the worst. At least I hope the worst is behind you. If you're reading this it is because I am already dead for whatever reasons befell me.

Why had the trip taken me so long on such a fast motorcycle? I avoided major cities and interstates all the way. The makers of these tiny missiles were concerned that the electronic signals given off by their components might be detected if I spent too much time near major cities where airports, military installations or other high tech electronics might be found. That's why I had stashed the missiles and the launching equipment on an abandoned farm near Old Tavern, Virginia about 50 miles west of Washington before going on in to check things out. I'd obeyed traffic laws all the way across the country. Want a challenge? Try riding across the country without breaking the speed limit while riding a Triumph Speed Triple. Another reason they wanted an old guy like me to make the trip.

From my motel I was able to watch the local news, access the Internet and make numerous trips into DC so that I would know where everything was at and how everything was going to work. Political schedules aren't posted very far in advance and I had to coordinate everything so that I could ride back to the farm, pick up the missiles, ride to DC, launch them while Congress, Senate, the Supremes, and President Trump were all in, and get the hell out of Dodge before everything lit up just in case things didn't go as planned.

So how did I end up involved in something like this? Well for starters, I'm not a terrorist. And unless something goes wrong these missiles won't kill anyone. A lot of other people were better qualified to do this job. A lot of people have a better chance of making it out alive. It's just that when the doctors tell you that your life is going to be ending soon and there's nothing they can do to stop that from happening, then you get to thinking about what you can best do with your time. Me? I decided to save the world.

You see, these 4 tiny missiles I was transporting weren't some kind of mini nukes or anything like that. Like I said, if things went wrong they could kill but there wouldn't be scenes of the White House being scattered across both sides of the river. Worst case scenario only a few people killed by any one missile. I was delivering what my co-conspirators jokingly called nice bombs.

These nice bombs were chemical weapons that change how people think. This group of peace activists out on the west coast had been working on such a project since the 1960s and finally they believed they had it figured out. The government believed they had it figured out too. That's why it had to be delivered in short range mini missiles such as the ones I was carrying. And it had to be done before the government found out where they were hiding. If we could change the minds of the 4 branches of the United States Government then we could get the government to explode larger nice bombs everywhere.

And finally there would be no more war-- ever again.

Well that was the plan. After 2 miserable weeks in Washington I finally had the timing all worked out, so long before daylight I rode back to the farm, loaded the leather bag containing the missiles and the launcher into the saddle bags and made my way to Fort Dupont Park where I parked the bike, grabbed the leather bags holding everything I needed to change the world, and made my way through the woods to a clearing just big enough to get the mini missiles into the air where GPS and computers would do the rest.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the one number I could remember. A voice on the other end said, "Delivery department."

"I'm ready," I replied.

"We're go here," the voice ordered, "make it happen,"

I put the phone back in my pocket and launched 4 tiny missiles one right after the other. The whole thing took less than a minute. Each missile flew straight up a few hundred feet until the GPS and computers took control then turned horizontally towards their respective destinations just like cruise missiles do.. I put the launcher in the bag, tossed the bag into the woods and walked back to the bike where I sanely rode back to my motel room in busy Arlington.

Once back in my room I turned on the television and checked the Internet for news. All the networks and all the blogs were reporting terrorists attacks but no one had any details. There were no reports of any deaths and only minor injuries due to flying glass and debris. Lots of people had been taken to the hospital after having been exposed to some unknown gas assumed to be a toxic chemical weapon, but as far as anyone knew it hadn't produced what they believed to be the intended results.

For days the talking heads talked about what they thought the attack was supposed to accomplish. The general consensus was that the missiles had been fired by a new Islamic terrorist group who was seeking to prove themselves capable of attacking anywhere at any time. This terrified the media and the public more than we had ever imagined it would.

Adding to the terror was that no one in Congress, the Senate, the courts, or even President Trump himself had anything to say about it. Political squabbling stopped. The politicians simply weren't talking about it. They weren't talking about anything. Republicans and Democrats were all suddenly the best of friends as if none of what had happened in the past had ever happened before. The media proclaimed that our entire government was somehow either being bought off, blackmailed, or scared into doing whatever it was, whoever it was, wanted done. The US Military around the world was being ordered to stand down, pack it up, and return home ASAP. And while the media was driving the entire nation into a frenzy, no one in Washington cared one way or the other.

I made several trips back to the farm while I was waiting around DC. There was a van there with gear and money for me if I needed it and room to load the bike inside to make the return trip easier. I remembered asking my friend who loaned me the bike, "Are you sure you want to risk your bike for something like this?"

"I believe in the cause," he smiled. "Besides, I've got a $300 deductible, I can always report it stolen if things go wrong."

I admit, I was a skeptic when my friends first recruited me for this job but when I witnessed them test one of the tiny missiles on a house full of gang bangers in Compton, and all the gang bangers came outside, laid down their guns, and started giving all their money and bling to everyone in the neighborhood I was convinced they'd worked out the formula.

That's how I spent most of my time while waiting on that call to tell me when to come back-- just thinking about how it was I came to be involved with the people who recruited me, our friendship, and how happy I was to be able to spend the last of my days contributing to such a great cause.

I also figured the reason for the van was that I was supposed to bring back something other than just myself and the motorcycle. No one had told me so, it just made sense. I figured I was waiting around for someone to place something in the van, upon which time I would finally get the call to head back west.

It had been almost six weeks since I started my trip when I saw on the television that President Trump was going to be making an important announcement from the White House Rose Garden early the next morning. I called the motel switchboard and arranged an earlier than usual wake up call so that I'd be up to watch it live. Then went to bed early.

I got breakfast early the next morning and brought a second cup of coffee back to my room to drink while I watched the press conference. President Trump had brought the Vice President, Speakers from the House and Senate, and a couple of Supreme Court Justices to appear with him for his big announcement. As no one had heard anything out of government in almost 3 weeks, everyone was trying to figure out what Trump was going to say.

"My Fellow Americans," President Trump began, "as you all know something very strange happened here in Washington a few weeks ago. Something like nothing that has ever happened before. And I want you to know that it was the best thing that could have ever happened to us. The greatest thing that could ever happen to us. So great that you cannot possibly imagine."

President Trump went on to explain how the 4 tiny missiles that had been fired had contained a gas that was a first thought toxic, but was later found to be beneficial to life on Earth. Then he dropped the bomb, "Folks, this chemical is so beneficial that Congress, the Courts, and I have decided it is in the best interest of the United States of America and the world that we start releasing this gas to the atmosphere worldwide as soon as possible."

Reporters started shouting questions but before I could hear the President's reply my telephone rang. "Hello," I answered.

"Get the hell out of Washington right now," a voice on the other end shouted. "Get to the farm, get the van and get out while you are still alive! Just do it!"

And then he hung up.

I went straight to the bike and made my way to Old Tavern not concerning myself with speed limits any more than necessary not to get stopped. Less than an hour later I could see the barn in the distance when suddenly the entire barn exploded and a real missile, the kind used by the military, came crashing through the roof,  headed towards space. I slid the bike to a stop, turned around and about a minute later the missile crashed into what appeared to be Washington, DC. sending a giant mushroom cloud high into the sky.

Seconds later the roar and the winds were like nothing I'd ever before experienced, knocking down me, the bike and everything that wasn't tied down.

I picked up the bike, pushed a mirror back in place and looked it over. It was banged up but appeared to be rideable. As the barn had exploded I figured the van was gone so I just started riding south only to see a black military style helicopter come over the hill straight at me, machine guns a blazing! There was nowhere for me to go so I rode straight at them.

They stopped firing. They want me alive, I thought. This is worse than being killed. Fearing torture, I decided to see how well I could ride the Speed Triple. By the time the chopper had made its turn I was at least a mile ahead of it but even a Speed Triple wasn't going to outrun military choppers. Especially not with an old man hanging on to the handlebars.

I pushed the Triumph as hard as I could hold it on those Virginia back roads. Traffic was picking up as more and more people were taking to the road to escape any potential fallout. In and out of traffic I weaved taking chances like I've never taken chances before, leaning into corners until my knees just brushed the road, hoping the tires wouldn't slip.

At some point the helicopter gave up the chase. My guess is that the chase was getting too public so they just backed off planning to pick me up somewhere later. But not knowing I wasn't still being chased I was still pushing as hard as I could go.

And then it happened. I went in the curve deep, really deep, almost against the white line on the opposite side of the road. But a bump I hadn't anticipated pitched the bike into the air just enough to cause the tires to lose traction. I landed on both wheels almost completely vertical but quickly running out of road. I made the choice to low side the Triumph, kick myself away from it the best I could and follow it off the road and down the embankment.

Damn that hurt!

I don't know how long I was out but when I awoke I saw the mangled Triumph on the other side of the creek and I was laying half way in the creek and half way out. I tried to get up then discovered I'd broken my right leg. "Well," I said to myself, "can't stay here. I guess I'll crawl."

I really don't remember crawling up the bank, I just know I must have done so because Carley found me on the side of the road. Who is Carley? She's the key to this puzzle though she didn't know it right away. "Are you alive?" Carley asked looking down on me on the shoulder of the road.

"Not for long," I answered looking up at a young woman standing over me, "Are you here to kill me?"

"I'm here to save you," she answered. "Can you get up?"

"If I could get up I wouldn't be laying on the road."

Carley helped me into her minivan where I laid down in the back while she drove me to a quiet spot where she could put a proper splint on my leg and give me something to kill the pain. "So how did you find me?" I asked.

"Your friends installed a tracking device on the bike in case something went wrong," she answered.

"How long have you been following me?"

"Since you left California."

"Are you with the government?" I asked.

"No," I'm a peace activist.

"How's that working out?"

"Not the way we'd planned," Carley answered.

"So was nuking Washington part of the plan?" I asked.

"It wasn't part of our plan," Carley explained. "Somebody nuked Washington to stop our plan."

"So how did you get involved in this?" I asked.

"I own the farm where you...," Carley answered.

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "How is it you just happened to own a farm that happened to be a launch site for an ICBM? Most Virginia farms aren't hiding ICBMs, are they?"

"I grew up on that farm. My mother used to tell me stories about when she was a little girl, how my grandfather let the government build a missile silo under the barn, and how Grandpa padlocked the barn and never let anyone go inside. All my life my momma refused to open the barn and let me go inside. Momma was always kind of crazy and believed in all kinds of conspiracy theories so I just let it go thinking she was making the whole thing up."

"So how did you get involved?" I asked again, still unsure of what I had just heard.

"I went to college at Berkley," she answered. "Then I got a job in Silicone Valley where I met some of the guys involved in this project."

"So when did you finally look inside the barn?"

"After Momma died and left everything to me I bought a pair of bolt cutters and broke in," Carley replied. "There was nothing in there, just a big empty barn. When we started working out the logistics and found we needed a place to hide the van it just seemed like the right spot."

"It's not like you were running a farm, right?"

"That's right," she agreed. "The farm was just sitting there empty."

"So why did they keep me in DC for so long? Was there something I was supposed to haul back?"

"We just wanted to avoid suspicion," she answered. "The bad guys always run away. If anyone suspected you they would be expecting you to run."

"Wow, was I ever the pawn?"

"Apparently we're all pawns," Carley added. "Even the people in charge are pawns."

I woke up early the next morning somewhere near Jackson, Tennessee. Carley was sleeping in the driver's seat. She had driven all day and about all night to get that far. The roads were all bumper to bumper traffic with people stopping to rest everywhere as everyone was trying to head west to avoid any nuclear fallout that might be coming our way should a storm blow in off the coast. Thankfully the sun shined brightly and the winds blew west to east for the next few days sparing most of the country. Of course you already know about the millions who were affected by radiation to the east and north of Washington.

The talking heads on the radio couldn't make up their minds if it was the North Koreans, Russians,  Chinese, or some other country that had fired on Washington. Of course they were oblivious to the fact that while the most of the United States Military remained completely intact, the US wasn't firing on anyone. And why would the United States Military risk starting a world wide nuclear war when the military knew full well where the missile was launched from?

As usual, even after all this, the media was simply talking to fill up empty air space with no idea of what they were saying.

Some group of international bankers based out of Chicago announced that Chicago was the new Capitol and that they were forming an interim government. That's probably what eventually happened but all of you know the military was really in charge.

Anyway, Carley and I kept heading west. Exactly where I won't say because lives are at stake. We thought we could bring peace to the world but as you know that's not anything like what happened. I don't know how bad it actually got for the rest of you because my disease finally caught up with me and if you happen to be reading this on the Internet it's because Carley and some of the others made it long enough after my death to post my story on line.

If you're reading this it means the government or whoever has taken charge still wants you to think I'm alive and has branded my friends and I terrorists when in fact we never killed anyone. It means my friends are still trying to figure out a means to spread large numbers of their nice bombs all over the world while the people who run the Military-Industrial War Complex continue to try and hunt them down.

God bless America, girls like Carley, nice bombs, and Triumph Speed Triples! It was a hell of a ride,

Please continue reading Special Delivery: Part 2, A Girl's Gotta Do...

Downtown Or Uptown, She's Always There... Waiting

Montgomery, Al-- Today journalist from Wackemall Network News offer an exclusive from a Montgomery, Alabama parking meter explaining the relationship between parking meters and meter maids.

Rita And Me

Lovely Rita, meter maid
and me, we have a deal:
She don't take your money
and I don't lock your wheel.

This morning's PMN (parking meter news) update is made possible by the one and only surefire way to never worry about parking tickets again-- sell your car and walk.

Aug 16, 2017


Opportunities are often ugly. One who cannot see opportunities when opportunities arise is not capable of leading. One who does not seize even ugly opportunities when seen, isn't trying.

Aug 15, 2017

Why Wait For The Eclipse?

Why do we wait for eclipses? Eclipses are the norm rather that the exception. Eclipses are happening all the time, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, always forever, for as long as the sun, planets and moons continue to exist. It's not that eclipses are rare, we are rarely in the right place to see them.

Every second that a planet or a moon continues to remain in orbit an Eclipse is cast on its dark side. And yet we are unable to see it just as we are unable to see the darkness that exists in ourselves. Not seeing the eclipse is a matter of not being in the right place at the right time, but not seeing the darkness in ourselves is a choice. Why do we choose only to see the darkness when it becomes convenient, an event, a spectacle, and not as it exists-- a part of our everyday lives?

Aug 14, 2017

Are You Afraid Of Clowns?

Not everyone loves a clown. Many enlightened children are able to see through the nonsense and peer into the dark souls of the clowns they meet and it's with good cause these children become scared and start to cry. In the Fast Food Wars it was no different except the clowns were even more villainous than they are today.

Clowns Plotting Overthrows

BK and his courtesans laid piled upon his bed
while Ronald, court jester, stands upon his head.
But Ronald, the villain, the red headed clown
lives but for the day he steals BK's crown.

Aug 13, 2017

Tribute On Two Wheels

Breaking Through

Sunday morning, the engines roar,
top off the gas, check the oil,
lube the chain, it's time to ride,
break on through to the other side,
break on through to the other side,
break on through to the other side...
See you on the road, Jim.

Aug 12, 2017

Barber Gets Time Off To Attend City Council Meeting

Greensboro, NC-- Greensboro City Councilman
Mike Barber, shown wearing his County issued orange jump suit, was recently given time off to attend a Greensboro City Council meeting where the at large councilman argued in favor of placing known child molesters in residential neighborhoods.

At-large Councilman Mike Barber, who also is running for reelection, said Friday that the Interactive Resource Center, an agency that houses at least 6 registered offenders "needs to be relocated away from the children's museum and the library" because of the presence of sex offenders.

The ideal new spot, he said, would be on Maple Street, near the Guilford County Social Services building and one of the Greensboro Police Department's substations."

Neither Councilman Barber nor Greensboro City Attorney Thomas Carruthers replied to questions as to what charges Councilman Barber is facing or how long he will remain an inmate in the Guilford County Jail.

What Are You Ladies Scared Of?

Remember: No women were harmed in the filming of Deliverance.

Feathers And All

Today's Parking Meter Poem is made possible with support from worn out tires and bad brakes. (It's complicated, don't ask...)

You Can't Park There

This is insulting,
shoo 'way you old bird!
Don't crap on my head.
I don't like your turds.
You don't have no pockets
so you can't leave no change.
Stop parking up there!
I'm getting deranged!

Inspired by the picture, King Of The Parking Meter by Catnapping.

The End Of The Fast Food War?

And now, time for the news! Brought to you by smelly feet and the Piedmont Center for Sustainability where we grow, share and live.

Early reports are that the Fast Food Wars are finally over with Ronald McDonald, the last superpower, soaking up the grease. And while we wait for confirmation we bring you ruminations of a time during the lead up to the war. Stay tuned to Fast Food Wars for continued coverage of the Fast Food Wars whatever the outcome may be.

Fortune Awaits
Or Ruminations Eating Fast Food

“Fortune Awaits. Peel Now.”
But peeling reveals only Baltic Avenue
and the B&O Railroad--
a street I can’t drive
and another train whose whistle I can’t blow.
What about the free food,
fries, burgers, shakes,
and the promise of a fortune?

I know, fortune awaits...
And I'm still looking for Boardwalk.

This is how they lure us in, disguising their disgusting intentions using our cash to finance their wars on our very lives, with banned weapons that kill us from the inside out. And except for me, no one is watching them... yet.

Aug 11, 2017

Because Sometimes The Sun Just Has To Shine

For Julia

"If it makes you happy, it's not a waste of time."
Somebody said it, it's not a line of mine.
But I'm so inspired I thought I'd write it down,
and start this morning with a smile and not a frown.
So make yourself so happy you'll smile forever more,
and know that's why you came here, and why you we adore.

Aug 8, 2017

Capitalism Isn't The Problem

Greed is the root of all evil today. Even if you ever manage to eliminate Capitalism, greed will still remain and the problems will still be the same. Greed permeates all systems of commerce and government.

Problems are solved when we attack the problems instead of the symptoms.

History Of Wackemall, Part 69: Abraham Lincoln

An accomplished orator, Abraham Lincoln, the popular American President who fought to save the Union, free the slaves, and died at the hands of John Wilkes Booth  on Good Friday, April 14, 1865 during an intermission of the play, Our American Cousin at Ford's Theatre in Washington, DC, was known for saying many great things.

While not widely known, some accounts of that night lay claim that Lincoln's last words before being shot in the back of the head was when he turned and said to his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln and said,

"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him Wackemall."

It was assumed Lincoln was suggesting he and Mrs Lincoln slip out of the theater early and retire to the Lincoln Bedroom. If only he had made his amorous suggestions sooner.

The History of Wackemall explores history in ways you've never seen history before, putting into perspective people and events in ways few ever knew existed. This edition of the History of Wackemall has been made possible without the financial support of the Piedmont Center for Sustainability but they're laughing just the same.

Aug 7, 2017

Because Once You Wackemall You'll Always Want To Go Back

Vertical Twin

A country road,
alas clear air
as all that was
is left somewhere.
A twist of the throttle,
the pipes, they roar
and all my troubles,
they are no more.

Two Eagles Talking

"Have you ever wonder what it's like to drive one of those really fast cars they drive?"

"What's a car?"

"You know, those machines humans use to kill deer and other animals with."

"And leave them lying there dead-- why would I want to kill something I don't plan on eating?"

"Good point. Driving a car does seem pointless now that you mention it."

"Are you kidding, everything humans do seems pointless from up here on this branch."

"Think we should get closer, change our perspective?"

"And risk getting killed by a human with a car?"

"Yea, I think I'd rather try riding a motorcycle anyway."

"Now you're talking."

Get the Eagles perspective of Two Eagles Talking right here at I mean, haven't you ever wondered why eagles don't drive cars? Now you know.

Photo credit Harry Pherson Photography

And if you'd like to save 5 cents per gallon on gasoline while helping me same money on gasoline... Well Shell shall tell you how it is done.

Aug 5, 2017

How To Look Smarter Than You Really Are

One of the things that has annoyed me to no end for my entire adult life is to ask someone a question only to be given an answer to an altogether different question. Politicians regularly do this when they'd rather not answer the question that was asked of them.

Other people do it too. Sometimes because they're hiding something.

But quite often people-- especially women and young people-- will reply to questions with answers to questions other than the question that was asked.

Some are trying to steer the conversation in a direction he or she finds more desirable. Others are simply afraid of being thought of as less than intelligent because they don't know the answer.

When I ask you a question and you don't know the answer: prove to me you're intelligent enough not to waste our time with bullshit answers to different questions that weren't asked. Trust me, you'll appear much smarter and more credible for having done so.

This Is Being A Father?

Like a lot of you I often get... how shall I put it... ah, unusual friend requests from people I don't know on Facebook. But this request from someone identifying himself? herself? as Nana Felsa has to be among the strangest I've ever seen and certainly worth pitching into the Lost and Found before I delete his? her? Daddy's? request.

"Being a father has been, without a doubt, my greatest source of achievement, pride and inspiration. Fatherhood has taught me about unconditional love, reinforced the importance of giving back and taught me how to be a better person. Join me here"

Obviously a trick to get around Facebook's automated censors, I could never make up stuff this good. And believe me, I've tried.

Aug 4, 2017

Mmm Mmm Good

Soup Can

As sure as I'm a man,
I cannot understand
why I never penned
a verse about a soup can.

Its virtues all know well.
Its story none will tell.
Its history as secret
as a G-man.

From in the Yucatan
to far beyond Spokane
all can understand
they only need to scan

as the label holds the plan,
a recipe in hand
for a meal so hot you'll fan
until if finally cools enough to eat.

And now I know why I never penned a poem about a soup can.

Rehersals Begin At 9:00

Parking meters are highly trained professionals who stay on their posts 24/7/365 and deserve your respect. They've come to me expressing concerns about the way so many of you abuse their passive nature and have asked I pass along the following message. Please take heed as they are no longer the small minority they once were and will soon become a major political force known as the Silent Majority. Ka-ching!

No Rehearsals Allowed

This bit of verse
I shan't rehearse
except to speak to say,
"Put your money in the slot
or just be on your way."

Parking Meter Poetry is made possible with support from reindeer. No, really.

Aug 3, 2017

Things I Found On The Web Today: Part 25

Today I discovered that beetles taste like apples,
wasps like pine nuts, and worms  like fried bacon.
Don't ask me how I learned that.

Owls are the only birds who can see the colour blue.
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain
and women blink nearly twice as much as men.

Try not to think about penguins.

In 1936, a movie ticket cost 25 cents, the biggest stars were Shirley Temple
and Clark Gable, and the Hollywood studio system was near its peak.
But Star Wars had yet to be released?

I found the 11 best online collaboration tools,
26 killer travel gadgets every geek needs,
and tried not to think about penguins.

There were 4 ideas for styling a small living room.
hot springs, portraits of iconic people,
and penguins, lots of penguins.

The Case Of The Mystery Meat Pizza Toppings

Stay tuned for continuing coverage of the latest news from the front in the Fast Food War. Gentlemen, choose your crust.

Shanghai Pizzeria

Papa John came walking in
and with him came the works.
Meats. Italians, Hawaiians, Alfredo--
he brought-in all the jerks.

They walked in to the Chicken Club,
Garden Fresh was dancing there
with Baby Portabella.
Papa John could only stare.

A cheese stick waited in the car.
Papa's sweetreats waited too,
while China Swirl, she worked the bar
dipping sauce in Papa's brew.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming made possible with support from Santa's Reindeer and dreams of cooler days.

Aug 1, 2017

XS 650 Spin-on Oil Filter Instructions

I'm installing one of these on my XS650, Nothin Special. Previously I had concerns about the filter sticking out the side of the engine but now that I've added crash bars it's not a worry.

Above photo and instructions via 650Central.

Note: I've edited their content below and added pictures to make the job less intimidating.

In the Kit:

(1) spin-on adapter
(1) gasket
(2) ¼”x20x¾” socket head cap screws
(1) Loctite 620

You will need:

#7 or 13/64” & 1/4” drill bits
J-B Weld
Acetone or lacquer thinner (J-B Weld prep)

Installation Instructions

1. Drain oil.
2. Remove side case oil filter cover, gasket, oil screen, and oil
screen gasket.
3. Remove footpeg, kick starter lever and tach cable.
4. Remove primary cover taking care to secure the four copper washers on the bottom screws.
5. Carefully clean all gasket surfaces, taking care not to damage the aluminum mating surfaces.
6. Test fit the adapter in the in oil (screen) filter recess. Some hand fitting of the raised edge lip may be necessary to get the adapter to bottom in the case. The photo below shows my final test fitting.

7. Using the two ¼”x20 tapped holes as drill guides, drill the case with a #7 or 13/64” drill.
8. Remove adapter, and drill case to ¼” using the pilot holes you have just drilled. I had to drill mine slightly larger to get the cap screws to line up.
9. Clean out any chips paying particular attention to the oil galleys.
10. Place the gasket in the oil filter recess and bolt the adapter in place with the two ¼”x20x¾” socket head cap screws, using the Loctite 620 supplied. I had to cut a bit of paper from the gasket to get the screw holes to line up. Here's the view from the reverse side showing the 2 socket head cap screws (Black) that hold the adapter in place.

11. Clean the OEM cover securing holes with acetone and a q-tip. Let dry completely.
12. Fill the holes with J-B Weld, leaving it just above the mating surface where the filter seals against the case. Here's a photo of the JB Weld in the holes.
13. Before the J-B weld hardens, (wait approximately 45 minutes) sand the surface smooth and blend in with the gasket mating surface. You can use the old cover as a sanding form.
Note: As JB Weld will sometimes shrink when curing, you may find a second application and second sanding is necessary. When I filled the holes the JB Weld rose above the surface but was below the surface after curing. In other words, you might need to repeat steps 12 and 13.
In the next photo I'm almost finished sanding the JB Weld.
Oil filter in place but not screwed down. Do not tighten your filter until final installation.
14. Reinstall clutch cover, with a new gasket and make sure to replace the four copper washers on the bottom screws.

15. Use the filter that came with your kit or pick one of the filters from the list below. Put a light coating of motor oil on the rubber seal on the mating side of the filter, install oil filter (and safety wire, if applicable).
16. Reinstall kick start lever, tach cable, and footpeg.
17. Fill with oil.
18. Kick or otherwise spin your engine a few times to move some oil into the filter then start and idle engine and check for leaks. Re-check oil level.
19. Enjoy.

With a little help from some threads at and, I determined that the following off-the-shelf filters might replace the filters that come with the kit, which weren't in my second hand kit because the guy who sold it to me on ebay forgot to toss the filter in the box even though he remembered to leave his receipt from 650Central. That said, I'm always fondest of motorcycle parts that can be bought anywhere auto parts are sold.

*Hi-Flo Filtro HF 303
*Mobil 1 M1-108 and M1-110
*K&N KN 303
*K&N (automotive) is a hp -1008
*Fram Ph6017A
*Purolator L14612, is shorter than PL14610
*Purolator PL14610, extended length, flows 7-9/9-11 gpm - conflicting info on flo as Purolator recommends against using automotive oil filters on motorcycles.
*AC Delco PF1237
*WIX 51365
*Hastings LF-113 short and LF- 240f is the longer version
*Amsoil EAO 103
*Napa Gold 1358
*NAPA 1356, flows 9-11 gpm, which is the equivalant to the Purolator PL14610 flows 7-9 gpm (but if you type in "PS" before any of the NAPA numbers, you come up with the powersports series which in the case of the NAPA 1365/PS1365, same as the PL14610 except about .825" shorter.)
*Purolator L14612
*Fram 303 is the shortest for the ZX14 (wonder if the hi-Flo 303 is the same height?)
*Walmart ST6607 and ST7317,,, they are made by Champion , same mfg as the Mobil 1 and Bosch filters.
*EMGO 10-82210 (May only be available in motorcycle shops and online.)

If I could read Dutch then I'm sure filter calculator this would be helpful.

Let's Ride

Take Us There

On the edge of Fall
while wasting time
we cry out through the glass,
"Take us there, take us now,"
as all goes rushing past.