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!!
Posts Tagged → being an idiot
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.
Stomp The Neithercut
Monday’s are usually a shit show for me, and this Monday would try its hardest to bring fecal matter to the dick-tip of this week’s production, but I counter attacked with some fecalness of my own. WIN!
Right out of the gate I had an 8 AM appointment with my eye doctor. Afterward, I would have plenty of time to ride, fuck about, or actually get some work done, but I declined. Instead, I packed my camera and boots and after my appointment, I drove straight to the Neithercut Woodlands about 25 minutes north of town to get a few miles of hiking in.
Unseen
[PHOTO OF BARN,DIRT ROAD, COW OR SOME SUCH FARM ANIMAL HERE]
Looking Down
I had hoped to return to the dirt roads for some miles on Tuesday morning, but heavy thunderstorms overnight and morning rain had me thinking otherwise. The idea of the fresh dirt put down by the county combined with heavy rain was not something I felt like putting myself—or my drivetrain—through. So, I headed into the wet woods to stomp out a couple of miles with my camera before getting home to do what I do. Which is hard to put into words, so I won’t.
Frogs & Yoga Pants
My morning ride time lurched towards me like a salt covered slug and I was thinking of a reason—any reason—not to ride other than “I just want to drink coffee and watch our Nation continue to burn down around me on the inter-web-o-sphere and then go hide under the covers and wish it all away.” Well, it turns out that some oncoming thunderstorms would have a say in my decision.
Monday Quickie
I’m pretty sure I rode my bike last Thursday; yeah, yeah, that seems right. My ass was scared and bloody and then I spent three days driving to various points around Michigan to watch B-Man play footy whilst hoping the crusty scars on my ass didn’t open and bleed through my pants.
After three days off the bike, I FINALLY got out for a couple hours today. Sadly, it got off to a rocky start…
A Different Way
I’m not sure what happened, but I nearly lost track of what “stuff” I did this earlier this week. I truly forgot; until I remembered.
Is it Spring?
Three rides in four days and two flabby, sunburnt granny arms have me thinking that it just might spring here in mid-Michigan. Of course, we’ve had snow flurries in May some years, so I’m not gonna bust out the little J-Man’s banana hammock just yet.
Old School Renewal
If I could have had added a subtitle to this post I think the full title would have been Old School Renewal, The Good, The Bad, and The Goddamn Ugly.