While I was cleaning up the junk on my Blackberry, I came across multiple, uh, inspiring photos of Swap that I had snapped off when he wasn’t paying attention…or conscious. Here are two that are particularly telling of his dedication to motocross..and bowel movements.

We’ve started a war. But this war may be able to clarify some things for you, so perhaps its a good thing. Swap and I have declared a PROP war. The guy who has more PROPS at the end of the month owes the other dinner. It is SO on! PROP my sh@% people!

I’m sure that you’ve all questioned, or even scoffed at, the Prop Value displayed on all the posts and users on the site. What is that? How does that help anything? Basically, if you like something, prop it. Lame? Is getting free stuff lame?

See, PROPS are good, because I plan on giving stuff away to those who are loading stuff and getting props for it.

But, more immediately, be sure to avoid propping anything Swap posts. Instead, prop my stuff…just mine. Haha.

It’s no secret that I am, well, the slowest rider at the office. Unlike Swap, I did not come up through the illustrious ranks of ATC racing as a child then graduate to dirt bikes. Oh, I had a 3-wheeler when I was a kid too, but my “racing” background is more putting the awkward thing around our land with a chemical sprayer and dowsing overgrown “morning glory” with Round-Up than it was railing around some track. No, my racing career started late in life and, thus, it is a discouraging feat to run with Swap.

So, since I cannot expect to run Swap down and roost him anytime soon at the track, I figured I might be have a chance to gain some satisfaction from outdoing my boss at something else; namely golf.

I don’t claim to be much more than a hack, but unlike my racing career, I did start playing golf at a relatively young age. Sure, he’s played with Bubba and given him a run for his money, but I can take him, I thought driving out to Hidden Valley Golf Club in Corona, CA. Besides, he rides dirt bikes at every waking moment of his life. He can’t possibly have that much green time under his belt.

And such was my attitude until the putting green on the first hole when he sunk a 30-footer while texting on his Blackberry. Damn. Well, so much for one-upping my boss. I hope the beer cart girl cruises by soon.

Truth be told, neither one of us are serious about golf. We didn’t even open up the score card. But something did happen; both of us want to play a whole lot more now, and I know that once we start playing a lot, stakes may make their presence known. And I will go on record to say that if and when we do open up that card, I won’t be the one getting roosted. Just because Swap’s driver has a bigger face than Stewie Griffin doesn’t mean he can keep it on the fairway.

Yeah, I said it.

C