Open Face

I put together two fresh roasted succulent bike rides on top of two slices of Saturday and Sunday, then slathered the whole thing in some afternoon golf and boy, was it delicious.

S’quatch and Topsie pulled me around by the nose out in the forest on Saturday where the Twilight trail was the consistency of pancake batter sprinkled with dirt. Those are good training miles, which is really all I can say about that. It paid off, because yesterday morning Hambone, Mystery the thoroughly tamed Stallion, and I rode some real trails on the North side and I felt much stronger for the previous day’s suffering. We passed some folks toiling on some bike-related projects at the Redbug trailhead, but we kept our heads down, avoided eye contact, and nobody is any worse for the wear. Advocacy-it’s what’s for dinner.

After a quick change and some Publix sushi, I was right out the door to the links. I’m going to be so active this summer, I now refer to my house as the transition area.

While reclining apres golf at the local dining establishment
The Fourth Quarter I overheard a group of disheveled rummies applying their considerable forensic talent to the reconsideration of the OJ Simpson case. One particular gentleman was not at all convinced that Mr. Simpson committed any crime, noting the viciousness of heroin dealers and claiming to know more than a little bit about Mrs. Simpson’s personal tastes and desires.

His companion simply muttered,”Mark Furman baby, Mark Furman.”

It is a real nice place and I suggest you frequent it frequently.

Bushie and Tom T are back from the 12 hour of Tsali, and I expect a more detailed report from them tonight, but to my knowledge they acquitted themselves respectably and got a nice taste of the Tsali scene.

Me? Oh yes, I am back!


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