The Joys Of My North Carolina Roots

So last week, I did the inevitable: I broke Trikeasaurus.

That’s the bad news. The good news was that while attempting to fix Trikeasaurus, the whole episode turned into a simple yet immensely satisfying return to my North Carolina* roots.

You see, as I don’t like cars much, I miss out on one of the great joys of my cultural heritage. Luckily the following image (after the jump) is as close as I’ll ever get to a certain primal yearning that was programmed into me from my youthful surroundings:

Trikeasaurus Up On Blocks In My Front Yard!

(click for closeup)
My life is complete!

(fear not Trikeasaurus fans – we’ll be back & boomin’ soon)

*or “North Cack-a-lackey” as we like to say – but where the hell does that phrase come from?

5 thoughts on “The Joys Of My North Carolina Roots

  1. nice!

    as to the roots, liz found a possibility from the urban dictionary (#4):
    … As a matter of fact we believe that Cackalacky Spice Sauce (A.K.A. “The official zest of the Carolinas”) may actually be the eponym for the famous gustatory destination.

    Old Cackalacky Sauce jingle: “Wherever you go, there you are! And wherever you go, there you’ll be – with a bottle o’ Cackalacky!”

  2. You’ll really be back to your roots when you have two or three broke down bikes in your driveway!

  3. and when you lean over to work on the trike your butt crack creeps out of your pants. At least that’s WVa style!

  4. New York, North Kackalacka, and Compton
    Checka checka check it out!

    -Charlie Brown w Tribe for you, old skool.

    I didn’t realize you were from there, too! Represent!!!

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