Monday Morning Blog-a-thon
What did you do this weekend? I saved the world from imminent doom and total destruction. How? By doing nothing of consequence for the whole weekend. You see, if I would have tried harder, or been successful, I would have become greedy with the resultant power, success and incredible sexual prowess. Then I would have eventually taken over the world. And when you rule the world, what happens? You kill things. Lots of things. Look at god. He rules the world, and he kills shit all the time. So by avoiding taking the necessary steps and not filing the necessary paperwork, I have temporarily thwarted my plans for world chaos. Everybody should thank me right now.
Friday night I helped set up the TT course. Woohoo. Saturday I worked at said TT course. Clubbers are now the current Mills Apple Farm TTT world champions. Even though our TTT time was much slower than 'Druber's blazing individual time. And we were the only entry in the A race. But you've only got to beat who shows up. As soon as we finished out ride, the heavens fell on us. Hard. Like an Acme brand anvil on Wile E. Coyote.
Made it just in time to the Tom Petty concert to get a warm beer and no pretzels. His music and lyrics are pretty simple, but good. And he has a funny voice. And some drunk girl fell and nearly punched me in the nuts. Her excuse? "I tripped over my feet."I think I spent as much time trying to get out of the parking lot after the concert as I did at the concert. I should bring a cooler full of beer to the concert just so I can sell it in the parking lot afterwards.
Made it to the Winghaven race in time to watch the kids races. These races are what allow us to have the big boy races. Otherwise we're just a bunch of assholes that want to close the roads for no good reason and don't say thank you often enough.
It seems the Clubbers have been making a bad(?) habit of having just as many racers at the race who are not racing as there are Clubbers who are racing. With Andy (2nd place cat 3) and me (King DNF) racing that meant that Dawson (stye in the eye) and Shoemaker (hangover with a story to tell) had a green light for sitting on the sidelines. Of course, this can also be seen that we're not too pussy to come to a race even if we ain't racing it. Cause races need spectators. Also, it can be seen that we are multi-dimensional. You see, we drink at least as hard as we ride, if not harder. And we talk trash on each other even harder than that. Come by our tent next time for some minor verbal assault. Or we're just a bunch of alcoholics that liked riding our bikes to the bar so much we sometimes ride even without the liquor.
While cleaning my bike before the race I found a 1.5 inch crack in my rim. That's probably why it doesn't stay very true anymore. So I cornered one of my campy-equiped brethren and got him to loan me a wheel. Later in the race I watched as the loan shark (Johnny Merli) took to the other side of the roundabout so he could empty his stomach on the course. It was pretty fun to watch. It was fun, until I was behind him on next uphill and I got hit with a large splash of something wet. I thought he was throwing up on me. Echhh. As it turns out, someone was throwing water on the riders and I was coincidentally in the wrong place at the wrong time. It freaked me out for a moment thinking I had puke all over me. I kept smelling my gloves and looking at my legs trying to reassure myself it was just water. Later on, I got dropped.
I think I'm going to start saving it all for cyclocross. Anybody want to go to Colorado with me?
Friday night I helped set up the TT course. Woohoo. Saturday I worked at said TT course. Clubbers are now the current Mills Apple Farm TTT world champions. Even though our TTT time was much slower than 'Druber's blazing individual time. And we were the only entry in the A race. But you've only got to beat who shows up. As soon as we finished out ride, the heavens fell on us. Hard. Like an Acme brand anvil on Wile E. Coyote.
Made it just in time to the Tom Petty concert to get a warm beer and no pretzels. His music and lyrics are pretty simple, but good. And he has a funny voice. And some drunk girl fell and nearly punched me in the nuts. Her excuse? "I tripped over my feet."I think I spent as much time trying to get out of the parking lot after the concert as I did at the concert. I should bring a cooler full of beer to the concert just so I can sell it in the parking lot afterwards.
Made it to the Winghaven race in time to watch the kids races. These races are what allow us to have the big boy races. Otherwise we're just a bunch of assholes that want to close the roads for no good reason and don't say thank you often enough.
It seems the Clubbers have been making a bad(?) habit of having just as many racers at the race who are not racing as there are Clubbers who are racing. With Andy (2nd place cat 3) and me (King DNF) racing that meant that Dawson (stye in the eye) and Shoemaker (hangover with a story to tell) had a green light for sitting on the sidelines. Of course, this can also be seen that we're not too pussy to come to a race even if we ain't racing it. Cause races need spectators. Also, it can be seen that we are multi-dimensional. You see, we drink at least as hard as we ride, if not harder. And we talk trash on each other even harder than that. Come by our tent next time for some minor verbal assault. Or we're just a bunch of alcoholics that liked riding our bikes to the bar so much we sometimes ride even without the liquor.
While cleaning my bike before the race I found a 1.5 inch crack in my rim. That's probably why it doesn't stay very true anymore. So I cornered one of my campy-equiped brethren and got him to loan me a wheel. Later in the race I watched as the loan shark (Johnny Merli) took to the other side of the roundabout so he could empty his stomach on the course. It was pretty fun to watch. It was fun, until I was behind him on next uphill and I got hit with a large splash of something wet. I thought he was throwing up on me. Echhh. As it turns out, someone was throwing water on the riders and I was coincidentally in the wrong place at the wrong time. It freaked me out for a moment thinking I had puke all over me. I kept smelling my gloves and looking at my legs trying to reassure myself it was just water. Later on, I got dropped.
I think I'm going to start saving it all for cyclocross. Anybody want to go to Colorado with me?
posted by Pigpen at 6:40 AM
1 Comments:
Imagine sitting in the UMB traffic jam when you didn't even get to see the concert.
I think Bobby would be willing to go with you to Colorado if he could stick his moped in your trunk. From there he could just about make it to Baja Mexico.
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