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An iced-out 21-speed sensation: The Moves are
all up on your handlebars.
CtJust give me one thing I can play for. EyDisco boys on bicycles. FcSo what if too many times we have been here, both
lost in our machinations... ScPoetic Retrospective WrThe Weather votes for Kelly Clarkson.
Criticism. Essay. Fiction. Science. Weather.
week: 1The disadvantages of having a hole in your
foot, a cat named Buckley, and falling in love. 2Come eat it.
Or don't. 3Wine, Shoulder, Bolt, Socket. 4Mothbombs 5On the road with your only soul. 6One woman's trash is another woman's treasure 7Aliens! Right here in America! 8It's not as crazy as it sounds
or, music is as music does 91) Sign.
2) Hope for the best. 10A friendship in a bottle. 11A five-year-old tries his hand at action adventure. 12Will the circle be unbroken. 1390ways' first Quaterly Review rages on:
2 samples of Fiction. 14Muscles and fat.
A thin layer of sweat. 15Fiction goes serial. Part 1 has sex and drugs.
You know you want to stay tuned. 16Our fiction serial concludes to cure your
vertigo from last week's cliff-hanger. 17An iced-out 21-speed sensation: The Moves are
all up on your handlebars. 18We're all in this together.
Except those bastards in administration. 19Jilted, laughed at,
and in the air. 20Swirling and swirling... 21You can't make yourself like them, but you have to pretend because they are your family. 22How well do jewel cases retain odor?
About as well as you stink. 23It's black and white. It's old world.
It's photo time. 24Piggy calls, wanting to sell you insurance.
This is what's on the other end of the line. 25A long pause, then, 26Fiction's Second Qaurterly Review
can speak Italian. 27It's only bread, after all. 28It's job search time at 90ways. 29George W. Bush's resting heart rate and a bum in a green sweater. 30Antique weaponry and teenage angst.
Together at last. 31One-hundred-fifty-three syllables
of October fun. 32there is only
self 33She's cold to the touch.
Cold and pebbly. 34Gut-wrenching love.
And wallabies. 35Building a habit out of ivies and orange flowers. 36A 90ways exclusive sneak peak at the
new and groundbreaking Alphabet Book. 37Type it with one hand and
see what happens 38A face any susbsitence farmer could love. 39The Quarterly Review: read it again for the third time. 40For every task, someone is the best.
Sometimes that's impressive. 41I didn't get a computer;
I moved to Indiana. 42The deepest of mistreatments, in three. 4390ways has new concerns about identity theft. Lock up the children and your sense of self. 44time. eyes. deep sighs. 45I know there's a place 4690 stars are born. 47I had to ask. 48It's about sex.
But isn't that always the way with classical music? 49The epistolary form in the 21st century.
Complete with neuroses and unpunctuation. 50There is no end to the party. 51Rockin to the sweet sounds of prepared food. 52Of or pertaining to. 53Including spaces, this blurb is 90 characters. Ways, words, characters. It is a leitmotif. 54Minnesota. Miami. Poetry in 90ways' Fiction.
It's the best of all worlds. 55It lives and breathes and is hungry for carnival food. 56Manhandled, womanclutched, or otherwise attended. 57The curtain is being pulled back... 58Up in the Fiction house! It's a bird. It's a plane.
It's an illustralogue! 59The hat, in all honesty, is a private matter. 60Putting up with all the doth. 6190words strike terror into the hearts of the longwinded. 62Return of the illustralogue! 63Take one down, pass it around,
blow your nose. 64All any of us want is a little approval and some light stalking. 65The First Quarterly Review wants
you to meet its little friend. 66From our servers to your ear buds!
It's misguided enthusiasm, in podcast form! 67Questions for the man himself.
Plus, the podcast adventure continues. 68No one would ever use Starbucks
to define their identity. Right... 69Don't you remember the rose clipped under my windshield wiper like a butterfly under a pin? 70Oh, it's nothing.
Oh, it's life-threatening disease. 71It's not you. It's me.
And my Eurasian captors. 72Root, root, root for the brisk
sale of anything possible. 73Look within the very bowels of the soul.
Or at least your mother. 74We're not strangers any more. 75He knows of what he speaks. 76I find that often times I'm quite
mature enough to enjoy a few beverages. 77He is licking me.
I don't like it one bit. 78Our favorite stuff is coming 'round the mountain, again. 79A wooden-back brush and a homemade bowl of oatmeal. 80A man's home is his... 81Fack to the Buture. 82This dude pulled back on his nose
and mucus and unleashed a city. 83The polls are in. 93% of respondents do not approve of the monkeybone lodged in their lower lip 84Like a thirsty man in the desert 85Taxpayer dollars wasted on broken egg. News at eleven. 86She loves her red octopus.
She will chew it to death. 87Bubbling, gurgling, fighting a moment to stay afloat. 88Molting our pasts into the air... 89The Return of 90 Words 90It comes but once a... ever. 91Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, the end of the Fiscal Quarter. 92The 540 word circle is now unbroken. 93An emptying out of the animus, perceived as tranquility 94All roads lead to South Dakota. Or at least the I-90 does, anyway. 95He laid down his whittling knife and he and his brother took up arms in rage. 96Drinking manhattans made with a good bourbon, and strong. 97Living white and pudgy, I never expected much for myself. Now, I could tell that was true. 98A few gestural lines towards the thought of death. 99Rest in peace.
I know I will. 100And then we played baseball and then we played army and then we were best friends. 101We torn holes in sheets and became ghosts for each other's pleasures. 102I looked at the pictures of you, twenty years old,
sometimes skinny and sometimes your face a soft moon. 103Fingers clutching little trinkets of the day... 104All roads lead to South Dakota. Or at least the I-90 does, anyway. 105Everywhere signs of an interstice arriving. 106What you see and what you believe are two different things. 107It was as if a million literary ghosts poured from its pages, moaning to be set free. 108So what if too many times we have been here, both
lost in our machinations...
 
Week 17 was bike week at 90ways.com.
Let's Ride
The Moves
Let's Ride is a musical video fiction by The Moves. Produced by The Moves. Instruments: Josh Nugent. Drum programming: Brian Rogers. Hand claps: Anne Nugent and Tony Rogers. Lead Vocals: Brian Rogers. Intro, Outro, Background Vocals: Josh Nugent. Bike bell: Josh Nugent. Lyrics by The Moves.

click here to watch video

Lyrics
I like
no socks tight jeans flip flips
big hips dark hair no fucking botox
I like
no makeup and no hair dye
big lips deep kiss I'm just that kind of guy
I like
women who don't watch much TV
need entertainment? hey baby, just get with me
I like
ladies who might give me a chance
no breast implants I just want you to dance

i pulled up, rollin' on 26 inch rims
she saw my ride, hooked my heart and reeled me in
she could not be missed and i could not resist
so I stepped up and told her girl you don't know what you're missing

leather seat
gold chain
chrome wheels shining
i'll tell you what im gon' do
i'll pop a wheelie for you

girl let's ride on my bicycle
i've had my eyes on you and you deserve to ride in style
all up on my handlebars or sit in my lap
i want you girl and you know what we gon do

well, she said,
first of all your ride don't impress me
i've been doing bunny hops since 1983
you got a nerve to try to step with your tricycle skills
'cause after this you're gonna wish you had training wheels
furthermore, i got my own transportation
called an iced-out 21 speed sensation
so the real question's do you wanna be in MY crew
and i'll race you round the block just to prove it to you

tears in my eyes fire in my chest
we crossed the finish line and she said boy i'm impressed
let's go make out, get some take out,
have our own private stakeout
you gon' sweat me if you let me girl, all i wanna say is

let's ride
south side
uptown
worldwide
i'll tell you
what i'm gon do
i'll ride forever with you

girl let's ride on our bicycles
i've had my eyes on you and you deserve to ride in style
all up on my handlebars or sit in my lap
i want you girl and you know what we gon do

let's ride (so get your make out on)
let's ride (so get your take out on)
i know you wanna make out

to all the coffee shop girls out there in the world
throw your hands up
to all the sexual intellectuals
throw your hands up
if you got no cash and you want some ass
throw your hands up
if you're on the dance floor and you want some more
throw your hands up and say bring that beat back
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