Stopped by burkheimer headquarters yesterday, two t-shirts were thrown directly into my face and i was instructed to try them on as they run a touch small. duely noted- the first one i tried looked like a sportsbra, Heads up.
I was then instructed to follow one of the worlds foremost rod builders to his pickup truck where a blue rod sock held something special just for me. I waited and watched while one of the most subdued and beautiful slabs of jet blacked graphite ever created slithered its way into my mitts. My hands vibrated from the power, like a thousand anxious hornets trapped inside. Thirteen feet four inches of “hand rolled soul” as the t-shirt declares. I must name this dark horse… she isn’t even in my possesion until next week..in my dreams, i see her, black and powerful, looking to party hard as hell. soon, you mythic whore…. soon.