making shit

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I learned to use a machine, but I suck at it.  I keep screwing it up.  It could be the machine.  But it’s likely just me.  Inspired by two things, I pulled out the sewing machine and worked on stuff until I broke the second from last needle in the apartment.

Like I said, I was put into motion by two things.  One, a good thing.  Matt’s awesome bike bag.  Two, a bad thing.  I am going to leave out the name of the manufacturer.  But I have a new messenger bag that was a month coming, and it’s Okay and all.  But in addition to outsourcing and an obviously second-rate production job, my frikkin strap is fraying because its’ cheaper than my old ones by the same company.  It gets bound up with the cross strap, and it jams in the cam buckle.  But, of course, they cost more now.  Unfrikkinbelievable.

I think I might do what I’ve been flirting with doing for a year.  I might put a frikkin milk crate on my rack. I did think about taking my rack off last week, since I would never use it with a large messenger bag.  And I love bike racks and milk crates and all things Fred.  I mean, I never say, “Hey, look!  That chick has one of them there messenger bags!”  I do, however, shout when I see an awesome milk crate or otherwise something good happening on a bike rack.  I hope it would not get in the way of my seat, since I’ve had loads do that.  And those 700s leave my rack riding very high.  But it might be worth a try.  I think I have occasion to hit a store to buy hose clamps tomorrow.  And a family member, ahem, who, ahem, reads this blog, ahem, is in possession of a sweet Greenspring Dairy crate in green that would look frikkin sweet on my rack. Sweet rack.  Frikkin sweet rack.

Can I say FRIKKIN anymore in a post?