my new years eve started as i headed over to sheps to swap some booze and babysitting for a turn at the laundry facilities. fair trade, trust me. i ain't all that good at laundry, and it's much more fun to play with his kids instead of the children at the laundry mat. you get the darn-dest glares when you do that. not sure why that isn't acceptable, but whatever. oddly enough, i get the same look at Chuck E Cheese.
that would be blackberry jam and honey glazed ham on wheat with the crust cut-off. no, i did not try it. the smaller of the two chill-rens seemed to enjoy the shit out of it. as you can see, no shit in sight. i wanted to share this, cuz i thought it was kinda gross. and that was the highlight of that.
shortly after, i made my way outta his house, and on the way back to my huas.
rivaling kris kringle, i jumped on my coaster deuce and headed out for the new years eve late afternoon ride home. luckily, it was around 4:00pm, and most everyone out was frantically attempting to procure food booze hookers drugs fireworks puppies diapers handsanitizer condoms and crack. knowing better than to even think about getting involved with those lemmings on any main roads, i took the twisty turny safety route through the hood. the temps had dropped and with a million pounds of hot laundry on my back, i was rather chipper to say the least. ...and that's when it happened.
some one lost their tree, right in the middle of... well, you know that exact spot. dead center of the apex of a blind turn going downhill. the location of the instant you stand up and charge into the transition, for it turns skyward just a few pedal strokes around the bend and losing momentum makes for a shitty ascent. and with my bag exploding with the girth and weight of freshly cleaned and dried clothes, i was really haulin' ass. oh what fun. (photo is a recreation cuz ifin i had my camera in my hand, there would be a lot more red stuff and and torn stuff and hospital looking stuff in this here post)
the moral of this story: tie your shit down you idiots. it's a fucking tree. not a mattress.
so i drug it out of the road and went on my merry way to complete the next task for the evening...
being smarter than the average bear when it comes to procuring libations, and knowing that there is an art to getting in and out quicker than the first time you got a chance with your girlfriend in her parents house, i took a brisk stroll down the road and collected the things that help me get through the day without choking the shit out of somebody that really needs it. and seein' as how i get so much joy from those who publish job losing, marriage ending, incarcerating, gunna wake up with warts on yer junk pics, i know better than to share mine. so that's all you get.
the first day of the new year i awoke to a short drive to a pleasant breakfast, followed by a long drive to the start of a gravel ride. old buddy Bryan has been putting them together for quite some time, and his success is really making waves. and as with most group rides composed of people that like to have fun more than they like to be assholes, it was just a great time.
the scenery was beautiful, the gravel slick and wet, and the air cold and drizzly. it had rained on and on and on and off and on for the last few days making the typical quick splashes much more enjoyable in the summer. the mud puddles were thick and zesty, the climbs slimy to the point walking happened, and the descents fast and thrilling. whether weather worried weary souls, our mettle was metal and we all should get medals for meddling in the muddy messy menage. yeah, say that three times...
only once did we stop in our tracks with mother natures dirty shower water higher than bottom brackets. and not only did i not want wet shoes, i'm riding record and am unemployed. so two of us males decided it would make more sense to remove our dry and warm foot gear, save some money on bearings, and just saunter across.
and with all of the women plowing through like there was a clearance sale on the other side, our masculinity was challenged. you ladies rock! and don't you forget it.
all in all i started the next year of my life riding high and sinking low with people who like to do the same things, i guess. well... they like riding bicycles and drinking beer, and that's good enough for me.
ifin you would like to join in with this here type of tom, dick and hairy foolery, just head on over to fakebook and give a shout to Bryan. the more the merrier they say, whoever the hell they is.
i digress... deep within the confines of a 4 and 8 year old that have been out of school for more than a week and always enjoy an audience, overfilling the dryer, having a few too many, and forgetting something else i still can't remember, i was introduced to something my red draped eyes had never witnessed:
that would be blackberry jam and honey glazed ham on wheat with the crust cut-off. no, i did not try it. the smaller of the two chill-rens seemed to enjoy the shit out of it. as you can see, no shit in sight. i wanted to share this, cuz i thought it was kinda gross. and that was the highlight of that.
shortly after, i made my way outta his house, and on the way back to my huas.
rivaling kris kringle, i jumped on my coaster deuce and headed out for the new years eve late afternoon ride home. luckily, it was around 4:00pm, and most everyone out was frantically attempting to procure food booze hookers drugs fireworks puppies diapers handsanitizer condoms and crack. knowing better than to even think about getting involved with those lemmings on any main roads, i took the twisty turny safety route through the hood. the temps had dropped and with a million pounds of hot laundry on my back, i was rather chipper to say the least. ...and that's when it happened.
some one lost their tree, right in the middle of... well, you know that exact spot. dead center of the apex of a blind turn going downhill. the location of the instant you stand up and charge into the transition, for it turns skyward just a few pedal strokes around the bend and losing momentum makes for a shitty ascent. and with my bag exploding with the girth and weight of freshly cleaned and dried clothes, i was really haulin' ass. oh what fun. (photo is a recreation cuz ifin i had my camera in my hand, there would be a lot more red stuff and and torn stuff and hospital looking stuff in this here post)
the moral of this story: tie your shit down you idiots. it's a fucking tree. not a mattress.
so i drug it out of the road and went on my merry way to complete the next task for the evening...
being smarter than the average bear when it comes to procuring libations, and knowing that there is an art to getting in and out quicker than the first time you got a chance with your girlfriend in her parents house, i took a brisk stroll down the road and collected the things that help me get through the day without choking the shit out of somebody that really needs it. and seein' as how i get so much joy from those who publish job losing, marriage ending, incarcerating, gunna wake up with warts on yer junk pics, i know better than to share mine. so that's all you get.
the first day of the new year i awoke to a short drive to a pleasant breakfast, followed by a long drive to the start of a gravel ride. old buddy Bryan has been putting them together for quite some time, and his success is really making waves. and as with most group rides composed of people that like to have fun more than they like to be assholes, it was just a great time.
the scenery was beautiful, the gravel slick and wet, and the air cold and drizzly. it had rained on and on and on and off and on for the last few days making the typical quick splashes much more enjoyable in the summer. the mud puddles were thick and zesty, the climbs slimy to the point walking happened, and the descents fast and thrilling. whether weather worried weary souls, our mettle was metal and we all should get medals for meddling in the muddy messy menage. yeah, say that three times...
only once did we stop in our tracks with mother natures dirty shower water higher than bottom brackets. and not only did i not want wet shoes, i'm riding record and am unemployed. so two of us males decided it would make more sense to remove our dry and warm foot gear, save some money on bearings, and just saunter across.
and with all of the women plowing through like there was a clearance sale on the other side, our masculinity was challenged. you ladies rock! and don't you forget it.
all in all i started the next year of my life riding high and sinking low with people who like to do the same things, i guess. well... they like riding bicycles and drinking beer, and that's good enough for me.
ifin you would like to join in with this here type of tom, dick and hairy foolery, just head on over to fakebook and give a shout to Bryan. the more the merrier they say, whoever the hell they is.
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