Tag Archives | journal-ish

Lighter Fare

After spending most of my free time pondering and writing about the death of one of my favorite writers and personalities, I have little left to offer other than a few pics and words from what was a pretty good Thursday of “doing stuff.”

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I Am Your King

I shall henceforth be known as The King of The Morons, for my stupidity knows no boundaries, my idiocy no limits, and my moronicness remains supreme above all others. I am the absolute ruler of all things absurdly stupid. You, my fellow morons, shall address me as King or as Supreme Ruler. If you’re not a moron I encourage you to just step over me as I lie in the gutter slack-jawed with sick on my shirt. BUT ALL OTHERS SHALL BOW BEFORE ME AND ADDRESS ME SO!!

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Am I Really Doing This?

After nearly a week or more of being off the bike due to weather, a weekend of soccer tournament festivities, and other crank blocks I finally got some saddle time in on Wednesday.

I did a loop south of town and it felt great to be back in the saddle. Due to some issues with the Boone, it wasn’t the saddle I thought it was going to be, but the PrOcal’s saddle is still a saddle and I was in it, that’s all that matters.

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Getting Stupid

At the end of my last post, I talked about heading into the woods to do something stupid that morning. Me doing something stupid in the woods might lead readers to believe that I was going to be cooking up meth in an abandoned hunting blind or having sex with a woodpecker hole riddled tree carcass. While both of those things are stupid, and more than a little fun to entertain thoughts of doing, I did not. It was stupider.

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Back to Bundy

I woke up Tuesday morning to find that we once again enjoyed another night of rain. Yeah! More muddy dirt roads and more fuel for the ever growing grass of my yard which I seem to be mowing twice a week these days.

With little motivation for riding on the muddy dirt roads, and even less to deal with cars on the paved roads, I put my camera’s battery on charge and waited for the caffeine to do its job before heading out for some more time stomping around the wet woods.

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Every Inch (of my love)

Me last week:

I know that some back and hip pain a few years ago, combined with the lack of a need to “train,” derailed my mountain biking but I’m not sure when I just gave up on it. In any event, I don’t plan on letting that happen anymore. I am promising myself to return to riding trails once a week at the very least.

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Short Stomp

The great thing about being a non-racing, chubby dad-bod type cyclist is that sometimes, even on a perfect spring day in Michigan, you can say “Fuck it, I don’t feel like riding.” Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do something outside.

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