Headquarters for the Slender Fungus Cycling Association

Headquarters for the Slender Fungus Cycling Association
Brewers of Hardy Rides.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Day off riding, finally!

Gettin tired around mile 40. That wind got me today!

Colors are changing. Soon it will all be harvested and it will look like Beef Gravy Brown Crosscheck.


Took the Bomber-mo-bile to Velazquez Brothers in Dekalb to get the Brakes fixed and a Tune-up done. They are by far the nicest people to deal with if your automobile is down. I had the Screamroller tied to the roof and after dropping the car off I just rode home. No need to bring another car and another driver. Yes, it can be done. I was also able to take Giugi to school with the trailabike and pull up to the lady who always has her SUV idling, with the windows closed and yapping away on her Dumbphone. Free gas? Allergies? Something urgent going on every morning at 8 am ? I guess my ignorant ass will never find out. I try to refrain from giving her dirty looks but I do anyway.


Rode back home and got ready to go burn it out on the screamroller all the way to Kirland, the land of make believe. I tromped on the pedals and fought a stiff wind that finally broke me. I took refuge for a while at Potawatomi forest preserve only to get creeped out for some reason. Back to civilization at the Marathon Gas station in the hunt for some good stories for Erico. I did see a full Gothed-out kid dressed in black with chains and chains and rivets and a very long tailed coat with a very long t shirt with a huge print of David Bowie. Sitting on a tin can..........


Man those were the days.


I also had fun calling the wife from the payphone in Kirkland. I felt so cool, so ghetto, so drug dealer doing it. She called me a nerd, but I was enjoying my 50 cents worth of fun. All in all I got in the 50 miles on fixed gear that I promised Dr. Giggles. I was running a 42x17 and got sick of that gear. I came home and went for the manly 42x15. I want to fly.


Tomorrow its back to work and back to think of more stuff that I got brewing in the old cranium.




Less computer time, more time bleeding on the bike.




best,




Ari
Em-bro-ca-tion
Cy-clo-cross
ba-rriers
frites
beer
cow-bells
jum-ping
hopping
ca-rry-ing
Cy-clo-cross
BEL-GIAN
Cy-clo-cross
Mud
Material Post
Sven
Stybor
Cy-clo-cross
Cy-clo-cross
Fly-overs
Cyclo-cross
PSI
Can-ti-le-ver
Sporza.
Good night.

2 comments:

Eric said...

I appreciate your effort to retrieve stories from "the land of make believe". Your description of the goth kid painted a vivid image in my mind that I couldn't help from laughing at. "Screamroller" is an ingenious name. All in all, this post made my night. Thank you Ari.

-Eric

Jay said...

Dude, stare that lady down...knock on her window and yell at her! also, I like how oldschool you are and that you called from a pay phone telling the wifey to get the cocaine ready for delivery...hahaha