The panic in S’quatch’s voice was evident as we topped the rise of the first hill at Munson. I was not supposed to be there, on his wheel, breathing down his neck. In hindsight I probably would have enjoyed the ride more if I had sandbagged a little, allowing him to think that he still held a solid advantage over me. After that moment, it was breakneck, frantic, pell mell screaming through the woods blindly. He flew like Ichabod Crane before the Headless Horseman. I dispatched one of the killer robots-Mystery the Untameable Robot- to rein him in, but soon it will be I who does the reining, and the reigning.
I am Juancho the whittler, and I am steadily carving on the hickory knot of victory.
more like a balloon knot of puckery…
Go gettum’ tiger. Reminds me of the time you turned on your heels and chased that bully right out of your yard. By the way, today I spotted a 30 year old Raleigh LeTour 10 speed road bike being sold by the original owner. Brought back a lot of memories but alas it had a heavy steel frame and it was priced like it was titanium. Besides I’m past riding in traffic.
Dr. J
Like the new look, Juancho. Man, it’s REALLY been a while since I’ve seen you.
Was the whittler a character on the original Batman? That was a nice post.
Normally I would be rooting for anyone attacking the squatch, but after seeing how mean you are to him I sorta feel sorry for the big hairy BASTARD!
w.b.
You tell him, W.B. — that ornery bastard!
Whittling is a harmless hobby, and perfect for retirement.