The Cure: Beer & Beans

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The photo above is not from today, nor are the ones below. They could’ve been from today, but they’re not, they’re from a week or two ago when I was rolling dirt roads and shooting film with the Holga 135. One reason they could’ve been from today is because the sun FINALLY showed its face here in mid-Michiganderburgh again! Lord Jesus! But the main reason they’re not from today is because sadly, I did not ride. Boo!

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The Waste of a Week

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I had high-ish hopes for riding this week, especially with most of next week being occupied by Christmas travels and festivities madness. Unfortunately I came down with some sort of flu-like crud on Monday night and most of my time over the past few days has been spent coughing under several layers of blankets in the stinky confines of the Chamber of Farts. With that said, I haven’t been on the bike since last Sunday and I am starting to feel like I have a giant, cottage cheese filled ball sack for a chin and an extruded stomach that bounces and sways when I walk. In other words, I feel like the Great Goblin from the Hobbit.

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The Crud

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Last night, right after I hit the publish button on what will surely be known as the most widely unread blog post in Soiled Chamois history, I popped my normal shot of ZzzQuil and headed up to The Chamber of Farts that is my bedroom. An hour or so later I was still awake; I tossed, I turned, I coughed, I was hot, I was cold, I was sweating, I coughed again. “Wait, why do I keep coughing?” I thought to myself. Then it hit me…. I’m getting sick… I’ve got the crud! OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

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Crush Pasta IV

Last week I made some pasta with (jarred) marinara sauce and homemade meatballs. As soon as I started eating it I found myself on my knees shaking my fork towards the food gods above, cursing them for letting me make pasta and jarred red sauce. Almost every time I eat it I end thinking it’s too salty and an evil bout of indigestion will be waiting for me within minutes of finishing. The only red pasta sauce I REALLY like these days is my homemade Bolognese sauce. With that said, I was in the mood for pasta today and remembered a recipe I made once last year that was pretty darn good and avoids straight up red sauce.

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Fogged Up, In, Whatever

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The past two days seem more like one long, soggy day. Both days featured pretty OK temperatures (for December in Michigan), gray skies and a fog so heavy that it coated all of Michiganderburgh like cold, stank, three-day old, dirty dishwater. In fact, after two days of riding through the fog on muddy, dank, dirt roads, I feel pretty much the way the photo above looks. Everything is cold and wet and we’ve not had actual rain or snow since Monday! What the stink?

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Studless

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Monday night we got an inch or so of super wet, super sloppy snow. Here in town it is pretty much all gone. In fact, I hadn’t even thought about it since Tuesday morning when I was outside cleaning it off the driveway in my PJs; until I hit the dirt roads today.

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A Love Affair

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I may or may not have mentioned this before, but in the world of beer (in which I am a well steeped lover), Dogfish Head Indian Brown Ale just MIGHT be the beer that has retained most of my affection over the years. I could seriously make love to this beer… it has everything I could ever want in a beer and more. I don’t drink it all the time, but GODDAMN, when I do I sort of get all tingly in the nipple and crotchial regions.

That’s it, carry on, a more thorough blog post about nothing is forthcoming.

Later.

Photo: Soiled Chamois file photo from last weekend.

That Sort of Day

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Yesterday was my typical and not-so typical Monday. Typically, I was super busy with stuff through the day but oddly enough, in the evening I found myself out at a local watering hole with a couple of friends. Believe me, that is NOT a typical Monday evening for me, but Wifey was throwing a “welcome party” (I had to Google that) for a woman she works with that just adopted a little boy and wanted me out of house, as was going to be overrun with lady folk, and she was pretty sure I would just sit around farting and burping while they were here. As luck would have it, a couple of my college teaching friends were up for going out since their students are doing nothing but taking finals right now and they can goof off a bit.

So, I was able to waste a couple of hours, catch up with some friends and drink a few good beers on Monday night. An unusual Monday night for me, but fun nonetheless.

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A Slow Sunday Quicky

I was up a bit late last night doing stupid things and up early this morning to do more stupid things like watching footy on TV, and I had little desire to ride. Until I thought about NOT riding and that made riding seem better. Strange.

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The Stroke Face

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Word on the dirt street was that today was Global Fat Bike Day. Even as a fat bike owner and rider I don’t know what that means, and since I’ve never been one to do what the masses do, I rode my El Mariachi for two hours on dirt roads north of town.

Twas swell… ish.

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