What's In Your Mary Poppin' Pants?

Drag. That sucks. I got stuck in Annapolis. While my basement was flooding. Not really. It's still dry. Although....still raining!

But I did get stuck in Annapolis. I considered trying to slip underneath the tree...it would have never worked. This never happens with my bike! It does, howEVEr, always happen when I leave EVE. I'm just sayin....

Two boys in an Explorer rode up to my rescue. An axe, rope, ratchet, pallet, yes PALLET...and close to an hour later we were free. Let's see you pull that out of your Swiss Army Pants!

It's true. McGyver wasn't gettin' us out of this one. I thought maybe as a climber I could be of some help. To boys in Annapolis?? Hardly. They have rope, webbing...and they know how to do use it. Even the girl on the other side put me to shame. All in flip flops. It was Annapolis after all!

And can you believe the basement was dry on my return? Indeed. I take chances. I like to live on the edge. I did laundry. LAUNDRY! In the middle of a rain storm? AND took a shower!

Put that in your pipe and smoke it!

Banks of de Nile

Trenches, ditches, reservoirs. I want a solution that doesn't involve a spade.

The weather dude says rain is coming. No doubt. For hours, days even. Exit stage left. Not to be a Snagglepuss.

We plot. We plan. I plead. Heavens to Murgatroyd! What will we do? How will we keep the water from flowing???

HE comes up with a complex solution. I shrug it off. "It will be fine. It'll be fine. It's not going to be a problem."

"Oh! Not going to be a problem she says, " he says. He wanders off in an exaggerated huff spanning the newsroom. "I guess I'll change my forecast then!"

Put the R in RAAM

Jure Robic
1965 - 2010
5 Time RAAM Winner

Don't Touch That Dial

Don't let the smile fool you. He's wicked cute, emphasis on the wicked.

Dog sitting. Standing really, I didn't actually sit. Can we talk about the house? Someone should call the Humane Society, dogs shouldn't be exposed to such trash.

As soon as you walk in, you are faced with it, it's right there, right inside the door. I know dogs like it, it keeps them company...but Channel 9, REALLY? ALL day long? For THREE days straight? It's criminal I tell you. You'd have to pay me to sit through that!

I told Topper he had a fan. He said maybe the dogs were trying to impress me. Hmmm? I got one that won't pee and the other eying my wrist like an intruding rabbit. If that is 'impress' someone should buy them a thesaurus. On the other hand, call Nielsen, our ratings are up!

Does anyone know Spanish for please, don't gnaw off my hand? Good Doggie.

Heart Attack

My house has been over run with hearts. And notes. And smiles. Life is good, thanks for asking.

Break Broken

Here we go again. Are you ready for some Football? Can't wait. Brought to you in part by...Can't Broadcast Shit.

Let's talk about my local break. :94 of paycheck quality air. That's 3 commercials to the layperson. I foxtrotted two of them. That's 33% success...complete break FAIL.

Let's be real. The contingencies require the aid of a translator. And an octopus. If game A ends at 19:17:56 do X. If game A ends at 19:18:01 do Y. If you are thrown to game B 19:17:00-19:28:56 put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye.

I was never good at word problems. Always rocked the numbers, but add all that alphabet in the middle of it and my brain starts to smoke. Train A leaves the station and Train B leaves NY, somewhere around 19:16:54 there will be a train wreck at 4100.

Miranda. There's that name again. And here I am without my helmet. Incoming Acorn! For those of you unfamiliar with blogs past...Miranda is a squirrel who is really a switcher. The gadget putting the pictures in your plasma box. And she is evil. She hates me. The feeling is somewhat mutual.

She's the reason I lost my job. But I'm back and she's bitter. And so when I ask her to do certain things for me she often sticks out her tongue and throws an acorn at my noggin.

But I love to write up my discrepancies with phrases like: "the switcher wasn't set up to handle my request therefore there was no button to take the source to air" and "the settings deep within the menu left the audio channels on mute causing the spot to air with no audio."

To recap, I aired one spot with no video. The next, no audio. The third, just right. Tech 1 Miranda 2.

Incoming...

Nuts and Boobs

Christ on a Kestrel! What in tarnature was that? It sounded like a tree limb fell on my head!

An acorn. An acorn? I think it dented my helmet. Thank god I was wearing a helmet.

Indeed, it's good practice on a mountain bike (especially) to protect your melon...I mean, just in case. Or if you answer to the name JDawg. It's just a suggestion. A mere mention. Something to think about.

You could be inducted into the OTB Club. Endo. Get intimate with a tree. Rock the va-jj on the top tube, which is NOT the latest dance craze.

OR, you just might be assaulted by an angry squirrel, who if you know me, is also known as Miranda. And Evil. And unrelenting.

True, a helmet only protects your brain bits. Depending on which position you prefer, you could still end up with bloody gashes, sore shoulders, and bruised boobs...yes, boobs. Sorry, Baby. Oh,or sterile.

Don't ask, Don't tell was ruled unconstitutional. Suck it up. Read here, no fear...Get used to it!

Kettle: Black

You can buy more bike than you need, or you can train to be a better rider. I'm just sayin'...

I'll keep my front suspension thank you very much. This is the East Coast not Moab. I don't need all that tail. I've got plenty of squish in my own.

Those who have it rave. And think everyone who doesn't is an idiot. I'll save the cash, enjoy the weight, and use my muscle a little bit minus the full suspension.

It takes a little more handling. A little more strength. Basically better skillz. With suspension in the back you can get lazy, rely on your frame, skimp on the skill.

It's a bit like reporting. You can either be a better reporter, or use the little sumpin' sumpin' you got instead. You can dress professional, prepare questions, and walk respectfully into a football locker room. I mean, to take an example from the headlines...

OR, you can paint on some jeans you have to shave to get into, drop your cleavage out your v-neck, and flip your hair from in front of the microphone. Trust me, you'll get the interview.

Either will work, but don't cry 'sexual harassment' when the testosterone responds. Please. Speaking of tail...

Tyop

It was on the bike listserv so it IS bike related. I've had complaints that my blog veers off topic. It does...DEAL.

This is not. It was bike related and the author felt the need to correct an error on a post. He misspelled typo. I thought that was hilarious.

That is all. The End.

I Say Ride

It's funny. People seem to be in such a rush to get to work. Then they go home and make a list of things they want to do before they die.

You can either make a bucket list or enjoy the ride.

Love/Hate Relationship

DC, I am sorry. You are as bad as I claim, but the grass is pretty green in my own backyard. You get a bad rap...the traffic, the drivers, the effed up traffic patterns.

Do Not Enter 7:30-9:30. One Way 4-8. Closed on Weekends. 2 lanes when the sun is between 78 degrees latitude and 6 degrees from Kevin Bacon.

Who can keep it all straight? It's a creepy crawly journey 'round the bulging waistline regardless. Errands fall between the schedules of others never your wants and desires. The heat is stifling. Congestion suffocating. In a word, it SUX.

But tonight I cruised down Wisconsin; flew really. I sat on the river. I watched planes bank along the Potomac. The sights, sounds, and smells of the city within arms reach. The ride home was quiet, dark, romantical. I fell back in love with my city.

Tis the cycle.

You Say Nailed, I Say Screwed

Yowzer. Who piled all that gravel there at the corner of the trail? THAT can't be good. Not good at all. First you say it, then you do it.

Spilt me. Me in my brand new, non-shabby, grabby cleats. Figures, when I need to bail, I can't. I'm thinking ,"that's gonna leave a mark". And, "here we go again".

My brain was 3 miles back. Over here I was distracted by the hardware sale back on Forest Glen. No joke...either a bomb went off tossing shrapnel all over the asphalt or Strosniders has a unique new way of advertising. I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest, it's not going to work. Unless, it's Radial...then, perhaps, very effective.

Probably just a tin of fasteners jumped off the back of a tailgate. Nails and screws everywhere. E.V.E.r.Y.w.H.e.r.e. And instead of paying attention to where I AM, I was thinking about where I WAS...and look where that got me: nailed but not quite screwed.

JuJuJooce

Thanks for the jersey, did you want what you left in the back pocket, or was that for me too? I mean I assume it was in the pocket, I never looked. Was it just not washed or might you have left a little sumpin, sumpin back there?

I suppose it could have been sweat residual. I'm not sure where pedal juice collects. I only know it works. Really works. I flew like the juju was in me.

I've always eaten hills for snacks. But breakaways on the flats...that's all juju. I like it. How do I stretch it over a longer span of road? How do I make it last? Where do I keep that reserve? In the pockets? Can it be cloned? How can I hoard that so I never run out?

I have too many questions. Would you mind answering all of them, take your time. If you don't get around to it, would you mind joining me for the ride. All of them. You can sit on my shoulder. Just as long as you yell gogogo in my ear when it's appropriate. Don't over do it.

Happy Birthday Eve.

Orange You Glad...

There's a porn star in my house!