Cog Blog

Doing A Heckuva Job Brownie

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 16:39:00 +0000

That pop up says: "Would you like to validate this website?"

I am updating my resume as we speak. Computer skills...heavy. Surely if I can't figure it out Barley's ass can.

I am not lying. I was downstairs working Sudoku. I heard the computer beeping upstairs so I went to investigate. What I found was one brown cat sobre la laptop. On the screen was a string of letters, a screen I had never seen before, and a box confirming the creation of a new website. Oh, and given her age, apparently she had increased the font so it was easier to see.

There are two valuable lessons here. One, I am selling myself short on my skills listed on my resume. If one less than bright cat can create a website in 5 minutes or less...my talents are clearly currently misrepresented. Two, if one less than bright cat can create a website in 5 minutes or less....think of the revenue two cats could bring in while I sit and do Sudoku.

Psst..Parker, pay attention, this is your gravy train!

BalancE

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 03:09:00 +0000

"The guy that can only sleep with his girlfriend, help all his friends, and not be frustrated with himself at the same time."

Seriously? I mean really? Can I google that? Order him from Amazon? Bid on it on Ebay?

Are you yanking my chain?! Could that possibly exist? Well I can't wait. Go figure. I will learn to make my own pancakes damn it. Or I will starve. There you have it.

How hard can it be? Wake up, make coffee, flour, milk, eggs. Vanilla. I love vanilla. In my coffee, in my coke, in my pancakes. No fruit, no chocolate, just syrup. Just the way I like it, thank me very much.

Ah, if you want it done, and you want it right...now, learn to make your own pancakes. I get it! And I know. I like them in the morning, after coffee, at my table. Or for dinner, at my table. The table I made myself, metal, screws, wood. Yes, pancakes by myself. Punk you very much!

Wise words, from a Wiseman. Grab a gear and go.... First a few of my own: don't break the cycle, break the chain. And every cyclist knows comfort lies in taking care of the corr.

Wise words, good goals. Bring mug, have coffee...AND TABLE. No scratchy.

Take It To The Bank

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 04:24:00 +0000

I’ve been thinking. About Share the Road and rewarding behavior, like HOV lanes. I came up with a plan. I’d really like to implement it after being damn near sideswiped by a hulking SUV.

It’s the snow. All over my lane. Bulldozed into spaces in the overcrowded parking lots. Cars idling idlely waiting for spots to buy stuff to replace stuff that will end up in land fills. Lonely tailgating; no game, no beer. Just cars circling spots like musical chairs. Not at all green.

Back to the lanes. That one on the right, beware. It may disappear into the salt and pepper, gritty abyss. It should be for slower traffic anyway. Take University or Connecticut, where there are three.

Here’s my plan….keep three lanes, but make that right one small. Keep those gas guzzlers out of my lane! Give it to the bikers, the hybrids (the economy ones), the smart cars. Start making cars smaller and give them a lane!

Oh, but what about the buses? The violent offenders. You have a valid point. They will have to use that lane. But that SUV would have taken off my visor if I had turned my head. No joke.

Well, the plan may have some bugs but think about it. Positive reinforcement is money in the snow bank.

All Flakes Welcome

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 15:31:00 +0000

Careful what you put out there! They just might take you up on it.

PS the bike rack is covered, park where you can.

Still Stationary

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 15:04:00 +0000

What a difference a day makes.

Stationary Bike Redefined.

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 03:02:00 +0000

Like riding a tree through a cornfield.

Grease On Earth

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 23:14:00 +0000

Okay, I found myself in another Hollywood script. Actually the same one, Trading Places.

No credit issues this time, just the rubber hitting the road....or is it the road hitting the rubber??

Picture it: 20 effingham degrees. Frozen tundra. 4am. Dark. Cold. Beyond breezy. L7, cuz no matter how hard I try I just am.

It takes a crazy kind of bravery to pull off a lobster, but I do. I'm not about to wrestle metal for the second day in a row. I nurse the flat. And nurse and nurse and nurse. I'm racing frames...I thought I put those days behind me??

The pump fails. Here's where I re-enter Trading Places. I consider swiping someone's back tire. Really, I did. I mean, who really locks those...usually it's just the front. And I am desperate to get to work. I just need an inflated back wheel.

I'll bring it back. I'll leave mine. Hell, that's a $200 wheel...it just needs a new tube. That's hardly stealing...it's holiday upgrading, tis the season, ho, ho, ho, merry, merry...why you buggin'?

I didn't steal anything. I rode the rim. I am over due to re-tire!

Proof

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 15:45:00 +0000

They don’t get out much, but when they do, they turn heads. My plates, that is. Sincerely, they are the talk of the town. Everyone notices them. Everyone loves them.

They must. Montgomery County loved them so much they took pictures AND sent them to me. Just like marathon proofs.

There wasn’t any line to choose which pictures you wanted but I went ahead and sent my $40 anyway. Maybe I’ll get all three? Come to think of it there wasn’t even a place to choose what size you wanted.

They’re gonna send actual pictures, right? I mean I paid the 40 bucks. Isn’t that how it works?

What the?

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 17:06:00 +0000

4 legs 2 heads.

Downsize

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 03:02:00 +0000

Escort your own self out.

Moving On Up

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 02:55:00 +0000

DEAR ELIZABETH:

Your rise is a crime.
Behind bars of this rhyme
Seeking reprieve
Forced to take leave
My words lost, out of time.

Half filed in a drawer,
Half talk to the floor;
Your method obscene
Like a misguided teen
On track to simply Produce more.

Never a word found in kind
Slumped by the wheel of this grind.
This exchange has turned petty.
Dear God I am ready
To leave this brown box behind.

names have not been changed to protect the guilty

Roll With It

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 04:19:00 +0000

'til you can't

52.4

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 00:14:00 +0000

Alan Bean. Astronaut. Artist.

Moon Marathon. Yeah, moooon marathon. That's what HE said. I like the sound of that Bean. A marathon. On. The. Moon. My joints collectively say, aaaaaahhhhh.

I can see it now. The runners' Shuttle. The start line. The newly discovered water station. The finisher's medal. Moon rock on a tether. Come to think of it let's make it a double. A double marathon. 52.4 moon miles.

Oooh, but think of that entry fee. Steep. And what on earth (ha) would you wear? How could you possibly dress for that weather. Temperature controlled space suit anyone?

ToWed?

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 04:31:00 +0000

Ordinarily not a problem, but I wasn't sure how to lug an entire tire to the tire store via bicycle.

Give me a second, I'll figure it out...it's round for Pete's sake.

Cuz you know I want to lock my bicycle to this sign!

The Long and Bumpy Road

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 00:24:00 +0000

Life is not always what it seems. What's that saying...better safe than sorry? You don't always know and you're not always right. Everything I ever needed to know I learned from my bicycle.

I got lost. Then, I got a flat. Or did I get a flat and then lost? Either neither, neither either; let's call the whole thing *cough*

Regardless, I whacked my back wheel. HARD. You know the kind, where you obsess about the pressure for the next 8 blocks. You glance back, you question the air, you actually stop, dismount, and push on the tire. Yeah, like that.

Lo and Ecce! I was ridin' on the rim. Did I mention late? I was also L7. So I tried the down and dirty: pump 'er back up. Back on the rim in two. Gonna have to pit it.

So I strip the tire, yank the tube, and....hesitate. The conscientious cyclist would check the tire for punctures; you know, run your hand along the inside to feel for glass and sharp matter. But this was a pot hole casualty and I was pumping the pavement. I needed to make like Opal.

But I stopped, and humored myself. I ran my fingers over the rubber. *ouch* What the? Industrial staple. Chomping on my tube. I may have whacked my wheel, but the tube held. It wasn't a pot hole after all, but a sharp metal object that flattened my kicks.

So let that be a lesson, or two, or three. First, don't assume that you know. You don't know what you don't know to quote Rumy. Second, take your time do it right, so says SOS Band. And thirdly, look thoroughly for the problem and find a way to fix it. Who said it? Aren't you listening...I'm saying it!

A Puppy In The Road

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 01:32:00 +0000

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that, the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

Thanks For That

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 01:22:00 +0000

Let’s talk etiquette. Race day fan etiquette.

1. Try not to step on feet…runners are gonna need theirs and I don’t want you on mine.
2. Port-0-Johns at the start line pre-race should be for runners. Could you maybe hold it 10 more minutes so a racer isn’t late?
3. Tall in back, short in front. Really just apply this across the board.
4. Stay off the course, especially en masse.
5. If your racer is 2 hours away, yield the curb Biotch

Okay seriously, this will cover the next 5 and pull up a chair:

Most of us are out there to see a runner. There are 30,000 runners. I know it’s important to see each other, I’ve been on both sides. But there are 30,000 runners. Chances are you are trying to see ONE. I am also trying to see ONE.

Finding each other is key. Your tall funny hats are great and cute…get in back! You’ve seen your runner….get in back! Your sign, oh your sign! Just get in back!

Seriously, your sign is huge. You are standing in front, in the course, with a HUGE sign over your head. I just missed 15 runners because of you. My photo opportunity….not even photoshop can solve this one.

I know it says RUN BRIAN RUN. Rude. 30,000 runners, you’re blocking 50 other fans’ views, and your sign isn’t even generic? Meanwhile runners are passing, missing their support, and it may cost them the race. Thanks for that.

Is Brian even near? I suppose some Brian could be, at least it’s not Haliz-Ewan. I started keeping track; I saw quite a few. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to pink slip your sign!

Oh, and balloons? Good like tall goofy hat. Get in back! If a runner has to duck to avoid your prop and again and again….you are in the course, rude, selfish, and need to
GET IN BACK

I am so not a fan.

Soyce

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 05:35:00 +0000

That's using your feet?

I would have gone further but my thumbs got tired. Thumbs. They haven't the practice of being heels.

Seems somewhere between P1 and 2 my gloves got displaced. Misplaced? Replaced.

You do what you can to get by. Funny thing is I think they may have been warmer than most of my gloves. Then again, it's wasn't that cold.

Can someone take my picture? Anyone? Anyone?

Carwinian Effect

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 22:54:00 +0000

You are going to want to sit down for this one. I am about to spit one for the automobile.

I champion pedestrian safety maybe more than the next guy, but even I have my limits. There is a difference between accident prevention and protecting stoopid.

Here's a thought: if you're gonna jaywalk, be smart about it. If you are wearing an ipod, molesting your phone, or just plain NOT looking, I should get to hit you. No questions asked.

OK, maybe not. But I'm just saying....and I know I'm not alone in this. And really, me, the quiet, pedaling pixie poses much less threat than the clunky car careening down the street.

That you would hear, right? I mean if you weren't jammin' an ipod and getting to second with your cell. But a motorless bicycle slips right by; while you note, you'd notice an automobile noising through the neighborhood.

Have you ever heard of a Hybrid? Amazing. More efficient, less pollutant. Air and noise. Did you hear that? No, I don't guess you did. It's a Hybrid, and it's quiet. Really quiet.

Yeah, wait it out. Enough idiots will step in their paths that Nadar will step in and make them crash Dummy proof. Soon enough Prii will come with sidewalk sirens--standard.

So much for Survival of The Fittest. Passing on your LEFT!

SOP

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 04:59:00 +0000

Shitty Or Priceless. How would you define your life? What is it worth? An extra 5 minutes? One dollar off?

Metro prides itself on safety and has been eating crow. They have been throwing employees under the bus. Their union stood up and said no.

They are reverting back to Standard Operating Procedures. At the cost of time?!? But bikers will beat the buses. Are they crazy, bosses don't understand. They never do.

Unions are in place to protect America. Not just the workers, but you and me. The UAW ensures that cars are made in a safe manner. IBEW keeps electricity flowing safely. The ILGWU made sure wardrobe malfunctions never popped out a nipple during a half time show.

SAG gives us good entertainment. WGA makes sure of it. When they strike, we suffer. Or get amazing things like Dr. Horrible. It's a win win win so to speak.

But we sacrifice safety for convenience. I for one am glad to see SOP back on top; it was created for a reason. And I will ride 14th a little more confidently instead of wrestling with Merto buses. I hope it sticks.

=equal=

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 18:56:00 +0000

Almost 20 years ago I marched on Washington with my girlfriend. She was a lipstick lesbian who protested everything. I had an L on the breast of my shirt, but I popped in and out of the closet like an episode of Laverne and Shirley.

I saw an S & M group behind the White House. I gawked at cross dressers. I questioned why such a small group excluded bisexuals. I watched the media circle the freaks. The NPS play down the numbers. Governor Clinton make his rounds. That was before he didn't ask and we didn't tell.

Two decades later we are still fighting the same fight. I lost the girlfriend, married, and divorced. I lived the legal life. It ain't all it's cracked up to be. The gays aren't destroying what the homo sapiens have already exploited.

Today I still refuse to define myself. Labels are for clothes and clothes live in closets. But I was a flag flying fag friend all the way up 14th Street. People looked, they smiled, they honked. No more stone throwing, threats, or curses. I would have proudly held my girlfriend's hand.

We fight the same fight, but times have changed. People are people and families all look the same. No one wants a bedroom policed. Everyone wants to be loved. How is this still an issue?

BKEWEEE

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 12:05:00 +0000

Makes me want to drive more.

Lit Out Of Luck

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 03:18:00 +0000

I don't care what they say, I got skills. Mad Skillz. Crazy McGyver skeels.

I can make fire with a stick. I can make dinner with condiment packs. I can make love outta nuthin' at all. Out of nuthin' at all!

I can fashion safety from a flashlight, zip ties, and foam. But back lighting will kill you. It ain't a lick a good under the burning ball of gas of day.

You can show a man a stop sign and teach him how to brake. But you gotta make him look. Mission Accomplished. One simple, loud HEY! Late, but he looked. Stopped dead in the street and looked me straight in the eye. And put it in reverse.

First I watched him yield through a stop, turning right, looking the same, never stopping, never looking left. See, I'm smarter than the average gas pedal. I knew what he was up to.

Then I screamed in his open window as I rolled up on his driver's side door. I know how to use my brake. He froze, there in the street, looking at the cyclist he almost turned into Flat Stanley.

Thanks for that!

Rue Knowles

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 03:17:00 +0000

Trail Bail

noreply@blogger.com (ycycle) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 03:16:00 +0000

Here’s a thought. You get so mad when I’m not utilizing the trail. Unfortunately the trail speed limit is 15mph.

It has come to my attention that DC drivers rarely have the opportunity to travel at speeds greater than 15mph. In fact oftentimes you all drive under 5mph.

I’m willing to share. Feel free to drive on the trail. I mean sometimes you guys drive on the sidewalk; go on, take the trail. Remember 15 mph and you still have to yield to pedestrians.

We’ll take the road. You take the trail. Let me know how that works out. I mean you always want to know why we aren’t on it. Figure out how to get to work and the store and a doctor’s appointment… hell get me a bikable google map.

Have fun.