Ahhhh...the sweet stench of failure farts in my face yet again, the racing at Wyco today less than glorious, my speed less than fast, but overall a fun, dry course with tons of climbing and a bit too much gravel for my single-speed. The company was stellar, though, and many of my butt-ass ugly mt. biker friends were present for the suffering; only the dust in my schnoz was grittier. After the post-race gluttony of tacos and heroin, I felt like partying again and had a personal moment on the drive home listening to the newest Ventura cd which rocks my cock into a shriveled stack of dimes...At least my lover from another mother was there to succor me pre-race, and then smoke the field in the pro event...
Thanks go out to El Blanco Miguel - http://www.beatsbikesandlife.blogspot.com - for all the Paparazzi
photos and for supplying the pre-race attendees with some hard ass crashing on uphill gravel. Surely one of his *34 concubines will give him a 20 hour sponge bath with multiple happy-endings when they see his bloodied body; which was akin to Medusa on her period.
My Krampus was the only thing between me and drooling in the gravel...
Next time I "train" for a race, let it not consist of 8 hrs of driveway tarring...my wrists felt like I had jacked-off 1000 donkeys by the time I crossed the finish line.
Ghost Boner out.
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