In the event that my gravestone needs engraving at an earlier date than I expected, let it be known that it should read ' drank himself to life', an aphorism of asterisk-riddled, liver-poisoned pomposity…and to think that I was drunk enough during the composition of the previous post that I mistakenly thought that the Frank Stallone Shady Acres Rim Race was last weekend.
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But at least this gives me adequate time to stock up on box wine and dildos, and enough condoms to wrap around my axles in order to lap everyone *458 times.
One could easily surmise that 10 straight/gay nights of micro-brew abuse would suffice, and one would be correct in such a bold assumption/theoretical observation/postulation. Because, after a 90 degree, ultra-humid day at work and lingering soreness from a 1.5 hour pounding at Swope, I am back on a tea cleanse for a night or two. The storms this evening skirted the central KCMO area so I will hit Swope yet again tomorrow - training for the penultimate challenge of keeping my rim from tacoing Saturday night.
And, speaking of Chinese Ti bikes, it would appear that The Chasm finally got his rolling, albeit with gears, which automatically revokes his 8Lumens membership, even though he paid fees for a lifetime…
…my crew making final adjustments on his bike with the help of Volker of course.
We shall see if the bike ever actually sees the dirt outside of his cul-de-sac trailer park; if the stars align and the Jaychickens recruit an openly Eskimo basketball player that is: 99% chance of NO.
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