Joined
·
838 Posts
I'm sitting here at work...looking out the window...it's hour 27 of a 48 hour shift...
A paved bike path wanders in front of fire station 20 (ok...this part of it is actually sidewalk..but still)...I see riders of all shapes, sizes, colors, and speeds pass by the window...as I wish I were out in this wonderfully unseasonable weather of early August...there goes a mom on a fisher with full roadie outfit and helmet, with Jr. close behind in clothes and steed that match mom...it looks like a twisted MiniMe / Dr. Evil'ism. They only move at about 5 mph...but that's alot faster than this damn office chair.
Then I come to the realization that the reason I am stuck in this prison is that I am returning a favor to a coworker that saw fit to help me out and work while I went to Devil's Head with a bunch of Fun Hogs to drink beer, ride bikes, (crash said bikes), and partake of general debauchery.
So I sit and think about whiskey and ginger ale...and then just whiskey...I think about bent rotors, taco'd wheels, sommersaults in boulder gardens, scavanging parts to get racers on the trail...the taste of oak bark....about how some flat pedals and certain brands of crank arms suck huge, and brittle v'brakes that have vague ownership issues...about veggie wraps and keg'a'cues...about psychos and mouthwash...about hanging onto sideview mirrors in lieu of operating ski lifts and about losing grip of the bike once the lifts started running...about how unattended hamburgers quickly mutate into charcoal briquettes...about hot vietnamese chicks and large SRAM sales reps (not at the same time)...about portapotties and sh*t-tickets...about cigarettes at 1 a.m. and whiney assed "white trash" at 8 a.m....about pop up tents and smoke and ashes...
All the sudden....paybacks aren't such a b*tch....the smile that slowly appears on my mug as I think about such things is worth being stuck here for an extra 24 hours.
thanks guys...BGR rules!
A paved bike path wanders in front of fire station 20 (ok...this part of it is actually sidewalk..but still)...I see riders of all shapes, sizes, colors, and speeds pass by the window...as I wish I were out in this wonderfully unseasonable weather of early August...there goes a mom on a fisher with full roadie outfit and helmet, with Jr. close behind in clothes and steed that match mom...it looks like a twisted MiniMe / Dr. Evil'ism. They only move at about 5 mph...but that's alot faster than this damn office chair.
Then I come to the realization that the reason I am stuck in this prison is that I am returning a favor to a coworker that saw fit to help me out and work while I went to Devil's Head with a bunch of Fun Hogs to drink beer, ride bikes, (crash said bikes), and partake of general debauchery.
So I sit and think about whiskey and ginger ale...and then just whiskey...I think about bent rotors, taco'd wheels, sommersaults in boulder gardens, scavanging parts to get racers on the trail...the taste of oak bark....about how some flat pedals and certain brands of crank arms suck huge, and brittle v'brakes that have vague ownership issues...about veggie wraps and keg'a'cues...about psychos and mouthwash...about hanging onto sideview mirrors in lieu of operating ski lifts and about losing grip of the bike once the lifts started running...about how unattended hamburgers quickly mutate into charcoal briquettes...about hot vietnamese chicks and large SRAM sales reps (not at the same time)...about portapotties and sh*t-tickets...about cigarettes at 1 a.m. and whiney assed "white trash" at 8 a.m....about pop up tents and smoke and ashes...
All the sudden....paybacks aren't such a b*tch....the smile that slowly appears on my mug as I think about such things is worth being stuck here for an extra 24 hours.
thanks guys...BGR rules!
