Last Sunday was April 1st, is also known as April Fools Day. It was also a week ago and the last time the saggy lumps of flesh I call an ass hit the saddle of a bike; a cold morning ride that yielded a mere 20 miles and some crap photos.
Archive | Random
Goofiness and Pro Tips
This post is LONG and it has nothing to do with cycling. This is pretty much the stuff that goes on in my mind ALL THE TIME, and it comes out in the form of a crap post like this when I’m not kept busy doing stuff.
Getting High… ish
My ass is finally ready for some time in the saddle, but sadly there has been none. Lots of things have got in the way, mostly me not wanting to ride in 35˚ temps with 20 MPH winds and a bout of laziness.
Avoiding Flesh Stuffing
The past few days I have continued my ongoing silent protest of the relentless Michigan winter by refusing to stuff myself—and the 50 extra pounds of human flesh I haul around on my frame—into various layers of form-fitting gear in the name of a crap bike ride. Those 15 minutes of flesh stuffing can be used better by doing things like Googling an old Judas Priest song that popped up in a recent dream, watching pasta water boil, reheating leftover chili (so good!), staring blankly at the wall, taking photos of Jake (the dog), or waiting for beer to rapidly cool in the freezer while playing EA Sports FIFA 18.
Not Half Good
The ass end of February/dick tip of March was semi-kind to me as far as getting outside to ride my bike. Sure, there was the minor schedule alteration due to an armed suspect at large in the area, a nice helping of psycho winds, and various dad duties to complete but as I’ve said before; at this time of year I am grateful for 1 ride a week and last I got 3! As a chubby, food loving, beer drinking, ex-crap amateur racer that only occasionally gives a shit about anything at all—let alone riding his bike—I’ll take that all day long! But then that ended.
Lockdown Activities
Friday was not the day I expected on so many levels.
Lost Romance
No, this isn’t a post-Valentine’s Day entry about lost love. However, it has everything to do with losing the excitement and mystery of travel.
Little Game of Ketchup
Three tomatoes are walkin’ down the street.
Papa Tomato, Mama Tomato and Baby Tomato.
Baby Tomato starts lagging behind, and Papa Tomato gets really angry.
Goes back and squishes him and says: ‘“Ketchup.”
—Mia Wallace, Pulp Fiction
Indoor Living Stuff
After Tuesday’s short—but sweet—ride, things turned pretty pear-shaped. First, the wind kicked up on Wednesday and was blowing hard enough to bend some trees and rattle some shutters. There was no way I was going out in a cold wind like that, that’s just not fun to me. Then, come Thursday, the temps sunk into the mid-teens and the wind continued to blow. Screw that!
Despite not getting outside over the past two days, I kept quite busy indoors.
Vegetarian Eating With Fish (and Meat)
It’s been 5 days since the Suckest Ride of 2018 v.1 and I’ve had little interest in returning outside since. My mind hasn’t been in the right place, not to mention the days have been all over the place this week due to the MLK holiday, B-Man having 1/2 days due to finals most of the week, an appointment, and a general slack and disinterest about most things not involving sleeping 18 hours a day.