Might as well turn it up and rip the knob off. This channel ain’t changin’.
I made some sort of invisible cut tonight. I got to ride that secret trail everyone’s been yammering about. Nice. Brutal and rough- but nice.
Big Jim Slade was sporting the finest collection of gnats nestled in pus I have seen in a long time on his knees and elbows. What can you do? People get on bicycles and race them on the roadways. This is a fact. I can do nothing to change it, but Lord have I tried.
Is anyone still watching the Tour? Like lots of things in life, I am afraid Professional Cycling might be more fun with the pharmaceuticals. Don’t start your “Dopers Suck” rant over here, I can barely find time to deal with my own ranting as it is. Of course I am still watching, and yes I know how hard they are working, and that the appreciation for the sport requires a subtle understanding of pain and reaching beyond pain. I get it. The drama however, remains rather subdued.
Fat Lad will no shit be here in Tallahassee in 76 days or so. Y’all better be ridin’. We need to send him home with an inflated image of our collective abilities.
Not to mention Uncle Todd, who will be here in less than a month. We got company coming folks. Pass the EPO.