Thursday, October 24, 2013

Oh irony, you dirty skank...


The problem at hand, or holy penis, is simply this: to get to most of the mt. bike trails from my house - which is centrally located here in KC - one must, because of limited time, drive a car to the trailhead. Now, you purists who ride to and from the single-track on your geared, carbon, skinny-tired, 25 pound crotch rockets take heed: I am just too busy to ride my SS Fatties the extra 1-2 hours round-trip. And so we arrive at the impetus for this provocative, albeit brief,  editorial: my fucking 10 year old VW Diesel is on the shits and I am forced to wait the 4 days for a part to come in. This car has been quite impressive overall, but when he/she/it decides to take a crap, it is a blowout that gets all 4 sides of the stall. Cue Urethra Franklin...maybe he can come by and grab me tomorrow and hit up some dirt so I am not forced to ride down to Roanoke and smack up the short and stubby rocks designed by the Shoffy; not that these trails aren't grooving, it just that I'd rather spank Kill Creek or Landahl. Time will tell, and in case you forgot to turn off the lights, keep flipping the switch until Jesus finishes...











(A peck of Rothko for your Friday...)




And now for a brief update on Mr. Fisk and his knee injury from the Ride for Death: it would seem that he had quite the compression injury from his botched bunny hop over a * 23 foot-wide concrete ditch; his knee - more precisely his ACL and Tibia - were smashed like taters at a Ms. Idaho competition and he will be off the bike for at least 3 months- possibly 5 before he can get on a mt. bike. I paid he and his  family a visit to express my condolences - and drop off a couple Blvd. Smokestacks - the other night and tried to piece together the chain of events through a drunken haze. Let's just say that the ride itself was sufficiently dangerous to break anyone's face, so the fact that only one real injury occurred is amazing in and of itself...but wait, El Blanco Miguel huwt his wittle shins and bwed in his wittle sockies, how could I forget: services and a visitation will be announced...









No comments:

Post a Comment