With the smattering of inner-resentment that has infiltrated the guilt index of the Left over the last 10 days or so - political correctness back in vogue - I have decided, on the eve of the embarkment to Arizona for SSAZ2015, to throw all shame aside and come out of the diplomatic closet: I am a Republicratatarian. In other inane words, Fug the Sistem; let us now party like we're high on Koch and buried under the tar sands. There is no question to be asked that is more feral than whether or not I am a Socialist in both resolve and nucleus: yes dear readers I have a heart, and it is bleeding from a shot that my spleen took from a rooftop in Sweden....All the patriotic/hegemonic fervor that has leaked like a corroded lead pipe since the Sniper/Eastwood propaganda piece landed at a 156-TheaterPlex-in-a-suburb-near-you set foot in the consciousness of the masses, the temper of our nation and it's fear of stable foreign policy has yet again been stoked into a hissy fit not unlike a Lohan/Spears MMA fight. But what to do with our budget of billion-dollar forces of peace? Colonialism will only end when we give up the ghost of Plutocracy...or smash it blindly into a deficit of diffidence.
Now that I am sufficiently imbibed, I shall inherit the wind and review the last few days in the days of days of events here in the KC cycling scene -as manifold and multifarious as they were...
Street Cred #2 was Saturday - though I had to worketh - and was officially officiated by the Fuzz.
The weather has been, well, weatherously-schizophrenic but at least I have been able to get three rides in over the last 4 days, fartsy ice pictures be damned...
Made a pit-stop in at Velo+/Maps Coffee Roaster to drop off some hats and chat about the upcoming NAHBS trip of debauchery...
And, was able to attend the Doan benefit at KC Bier Company with my fellow 8Lumens Luminaries...
...and a few stops at The Bier Station for good measure.
Again, I have no idea where I stole this image from, but suffice it to say that this dude's week
was about as bad as it gets, outside of a brothel in Iceland.
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