Something Wankerish

I am not calling the prosecutors wankers, but there is something wankerish going on here...

I'm no phsycologist, but it seems people get most defensive when they think they may be wrong.

Happy Boo Day.

Day Old News

So I get home from work on Thursday and sit down to read the day old news. I look at the front page and turn to the second. I don't have to worry about picking which stories to read because the statesman ranks them so I know which ones are most important. There at number 8, right before 3 articles about the economy, and the article about the Red Sox winning game one of the World Series in an article in regard to Wal-Mart selling urns and caskets.

I know the Red Sox aren't in the World Series, but really, a Yankees loss is the same thing as a Red Sox win isn't it? I still believe.



So yeah, Wal-Mart is going to sell urns and caskets online. Um, that’s a bit disturbing.

You ever noticed that at Wal-Mart you can get anything in the special NASCAR edition? Yup, it's only a matter of time before you can get your Jeff Gordon, Jimmie Johnson, or even #3 memorial accommodations. Hey Jimmie, did your parents miss that ‘and sometimes y’ rule? Just wondering.

You know that somewhere in Mississippi there is some dude sitting on top the TV (right next to the rabbit ears) in his Dale Urn-hardt. That just ain't right.

Wow. After that I turn a few pages. I come across the little section where you can email in your health care questions and a medical professional will answer them. Question number two:



My husband was diagnosed with colon cancer. Is it contagious?

Are you freaking kidding me? OMG. Unbelievable.

I can’t believe I live in a community where someone is dumb enough to ask that question. I mean seriously. What, have you been sharing polyps? I can’t believe I live in a community where someone is dumb enough to publish this question. I mean someone gets paid to produce and edit this, Nice.

Can you imagine being the guy with colon cancer?

Docotor – I am sorry to have to tell you that you have colon cancer.
CC Guy – shock, fear, worry
Wife – scoots the chair a little to the right.

The guy needs some support, some encouragement, maybe even a LiveStrong. He gets – is it contagious? I’m thinking you made a bad decision in regard to your relationship a few years back bud.

Running?

I have always contended that running is a survival skill, not a sport. That is, until last Friday. See, last Friday I discovered that running may not be a survival skill, rather I think that running may be a method of committing suicide. It still isn’t a sport.

I realized this when I saw an enormous woman ‘jogging’ on the gb last Friday. I am pretty sure she was going to keel over. It was like one of those moments like on ‘The Biggest Loser’ where one of the enormous people collapses. Just like that. Only this woman hadn’t collapsed. Yet. It was going to happen, there was a kind of miasma about the gb that day.

Look! I used the word miasma.

I love ‘The Biggest Loser’. It is probably my favorite show. That and Phineas and Ferb. I would say that I like it because it makes me feel better about myself watching the large ones exercise, but that isn’t true. I know it isn’t true because watching the large ones work out while I sit on my butt and eat makes me feel somewhat like a toad. I would say that I like it because Jilian Michaels is hot, but she’s not. In fact she kind of scares me. Scares me right through the tv.

Anyway, yeah, I am rocking down the gb the other day and see this enormous woman just killing herself. Death by running. She was probably a code 4-0-0. You don’t see that every day.

What made it really interesting was the camera crew with her. Yeah, one guy with a fancy video camera on a stick kind of running in front of her and another guy running beside her shouting instructions.

Please note, I am using the term ‘running’ loosely here. Very loosely.
So I role up behind this little running circus. So do is this a situation where I need to yell ‘on your left’? Should I just ride past? Should I shout encouragement? Should I say the first thing that comes to mind? No, no not that one. I was on camera after all.

I just rode past and tried to look cool, well as cool as you can when you are wearing spandex.

Dings, Rings, and Things

Have you ever really looked forward to something for a long time, and then when it finally happened it wasn’t nearly as good as you thought it might be? Or maybe it wasn’t even good at all? Yeah, that’s never happened to me either. It’s all roses around here, let me tell you.

Last week I started commuting by bike to work again after a long layoff. I was pretty excited about it because I have pretty much run out of things to blog about, and there is always good blog material on the commute.

I gotta say, the first day I was a little disappointed. Nothing really happened. It was dark, and it was cold, it made me a little crunchy around the edges – but that was it.

Friday was my second day on the ol bike commute. I was about a mile in to my 12 mile trip when I heard a sound to my left. I said to myself ‘self, that sounds a lot like cars running into each other’. Sure as hell I look to my left and about 15 feet to my left and there is a car with its front inserted into the back of the car in front of it. Nice.

Yup, someone going all Jeff Gordon and bump drafting in the 20 mph school zone. It wasn’t too bad, but there were bits of car scattering about. I hit the brakes as the cars maneuvered to a stop in front of me. Huh, you don’t see that every day.

That made for a good day (for me, not for Jeff Gordon). Little did I know that Friday would get rich on my way home.

So rocking on the gb towards home I come across that bad guy from Scooby doo. You know, the one that says “… and I would have gotten away with it…”. Yeah, that guy. He was riding his bike coming the other way and as I get close to him he start gesturing and saying something about ‘over there’. He looked and sounded just like Scooby doo guy. I am pretty much positive it was him. Well, I assumed that the guy was hassling me. I was about to tell him where I thought he should go when I looked the direction where he was gesturing.

There was this guy down on a knee proposing to a girl. At least I assume he was proposing. I mean, what else do people do on their knees along the gb? Well yeah, there is that – but that is a few miles downstream on fantasy island, and at night, besides didn’t the police sting put an end to that?

So anyway, yeah the Scooby doo guy go’s nuts trying to show me the proposing couple. Or at least the couple that seemed to be partaking in some proposalage. I guess the guy had never seen a proposal. I guess I haven’t either. Now that is something you don’t see every day.

I was still contemplating my good fortune when I pulled off the gb in Garden City. I hadn’t been on the road long when the sound of a car driving slowly behind me shook me out of my revelry. If you ride a bike you know that nothing good can come of a car driving slowly behind you.

This car drives up alongside me. I look over. Holy crap! There it is! A chick exposing a jublee! I know its hard to believe. I hardly believe it myself! Really! Exposing a jublee with one hand, kind of leaning over to facilitate such exposure – and oh yeah, trying to drive with the other hand.

So yeah, there it is a little jublee in a whole lot of Honda Civic. A Honda Civic that seems to be getting closer to me by the minute. Nice. I am getting flashed and run off the road all at once.

I gotta admit I was a bit dumbfounded. Maybe more than a bit. In fact, I haven’t been that dumbfounded since road rage guy called me a ‘pretty little Mormon boy’- which I still haven’t figured out.

Anyway, it was over as fast as it started. I continued to role, in fact, I rolled up next her car at the next stop sign. You know, by the bible college. How nice is that – in front of the bible college. Anyway, there she is laughing and taking a picture of me with her cell phone.

Wait! I thought I was the one who was supposed to take pictures.

So yeah, I am probably on the internet somewhere with the subtitle of ‘Dumbfounded Guy I Flashed’.

Seriously.

I still can’t believe it.

Flasher girl, if you ever read this, not to sound ungrateful, but I have some ideas to improve the experience for both of us. It would go something like this…

You roll up next to me (give me 3 feet please). Roll down your window, then say…

You - ‘Pardon me, would you like to see my jublees?’

Me – ‘Yes, yes I think I would thank you.’

Then you drive up the road a few blocks, get out, and pull up your shirt. There is no need to go halfway – you lose the full effect. As I roll up I will give you an appropriate compliment, you know, like ‘nice jublees!’

Then I will stop, and we can each take pictures, you know, for evidence that we can show our friends.

Yes, I think it should go something like that.

OK, at any rate, that was a hell of a way to kick off my commuting season. Like a 9 out of 10 on the angry cyclist scale of bicycle commuting bizarity. Now that is something you don't see every day.

Ahhh Nuts

I have been pretty sure that I wasn’t going to get the swine flu due to an aggressive hand washing campaign in the bathrooms at work. You may remember that I wrote about it a while back.


Well all that changed yesterday. Someone removed the ‘urinal guy’ sign from the bathroom. The other one is still there; urinal guy is gone. All that is left is a sticky residue. I am afraid without the urinal guy sign there that no one will wash their hands, and someone will get swine flu from their bits. I mean, why would I wash my hands without urinal guy there?

Someone stole it. It didn’t just fall on the floor and get thrown away. It was really stuck on there. I know, I tried to take it off. I was going to scan it, but it was really stuck, so I took a picture. Taking pictures in a bathroom is creepy. For some reason it made me feel like Larry Craig.

It makes me wonder what happened to the sign. Did urinal guy see it and was offended? No, I don’t think so. He looks pretty good humored. Good humored for a guy that carries a urinal. I bet the swine flu took it – damn you swine flu! It figured with that sign out of the way we would be easy pickings. I bet he put it on craigslist. Even the swine flu needs some extra cash. The economy sucks. I am going to look. On ebay too.

Anyway. So yeah. Swine flu here I come. Sucks to be me. Maybe I should make my own sign. Something like ‘Swine flu is on your bits! Washed your hands?’

Simplification

I am totally simplifying. I deleted my twitter account. I deleted all the mail in my email inbox. I deleted some crappy music off my hard drive. I even deleted a facebook friend.

Don’t worry. It wasn’t you. Well, I mean, It probably wasn’t you. If it was, well, sorry about that – I don’t really like you.

It was all quite liberating. I feel so free and untethered. Actually that isn’t true, but I do feel less tethered. You should try it (except delete someone else, not me).

Its going to give me at least 30 extra seconds every day. Seconds I will spend riding my bike, because riding my bike makes me a better Mike. And every second counts – Lance Armstrong taught me that.

Anyway, I was thinking about retiring from blogging. You know, to remove the incredible burden that it is for me to be a sarcastic smart ass. It really is a stretch you know.

So yeah, I decided to retire – but not before I reach an all important egotistical goal. I need to complete my little mappy thingy. It shows all the countries that have someone who visited my blog. I realize that most of the people accidentally visited my blog when they were searching for cycling underwear, and then quickly left – but I am ok with that. In fact, it kind of cracks me up.


I will retire when I get a visit from all those countries that I don’t have one for yet. Quick, someone go to Africa! Or at least someone go to South Dakota and visit my blog – I don’t have any visits from there either. They do have internet there don’t they?

Yep. Fill up the map and that’s it. At least until something ticks me off and I need to vent.

Pop Quiz

A. This rig belongs to Butch.
B. This rig belongs to a butch.
C. This rig belongs to two or more guys named Butch.
D. This rig belongs to two or more butches.
E. This rig belongs to someone who is a fan of Butchs, which could be a,b,c, or d above.
F. This rig belongs to the highest elected official in the great state of Idaho. By the way, how do you get Butch out of Leroy?
G. All of the above.

Answer: Hell, I don’t know. I should go back to school and learn that grammar thing, especially that plural/possessive apostrophe thingy – maybe then I would stop running into conflicts like this. Nah.

Wheel of Dreams

You guys can have your Zipp's, your Edge's, and even your HED's. This is what I will be rolling with next year. I mean, that is, if I win the contest.




You see it right brothers and sisters, yes, a Natty light disc wheel. When I win I will be rocking that badboy in time trials all year. And yes, in case you were wondering, I will be rocking it on the front.

Steering, who needs steering?

Maybe I will carry a Natty in my bottle cage too, you know, in case I get thirsty.

Here We Go Again

So last week Ada County Highway District commissioner Sarah Baker accused her fellow commission members of being Stalin.


Here we go again.


Whats with the politicians playing the communist card whenever they feel they have been wronged? I mean seriously, its not 1980 anymore. A few things have changed. A few people obviously have not.

OK, to be fair Baker didn’t flat out call her coworkers Stalin. She said “You know, I am not accusing anyone here of being Stalin, but this is exactly what Stalin did during his reign”. Wow. You know, if you ever start a statement by saying ‘I am not …’, and then follow up with ‘BUT…’, you are most definitely saying ‘…’. Yeah like, I am not saying Sarah Baker is a wanker, but, her behavior is very much wanker-like. See how that works?

So anyway, she is a bit miffed because her name was left off a plaque on the new Park Center bridge. The bridge that was dreamed up 20 years ago. The bridge that has been debated and battled for the last 10 years. The bridge that was under construction before Sarah Baker was elected. Yeah, that bridge.

Somehow she thinks that her name not being on the bridge is falsifying history. Like Stalin. I am no expert, but I think Stalin made people disappear and then erased evidence of them ever existing. Maybe its just me, but that isn’t quite the same as not putting someones name on a project that they had nothing to do with – in fact, putting someones name on a project they didn’t participate in may even be the opposite.

Wait, I’m confused. Who is Stalin here?

Ugh. I am not saying someone should just quit, but there are plenty of other things to do. You know, listen to ’99 Luftballoons’. Watch ‘Red Dawn’. Read some Tom Clancy. And then maybe you can make your hair poofy. Especially in front...

I'm just say'n

My Dogs is Bitches

I awoke Sunday to the sound of water being poured from a pitcher into a glass. Even semi-conscious I knew that nothing good could come of liquidy sounds in morning, so I sat up and looked around. My wife was in the bathroom, but the sound wasn’t coming from there.

Turns out a dog peeing in a shoe sounds exactly like someone pouring water into a glass from a pitcher. Yup, there was little black dog (lbd) peeing into a croc. As I flew out of bed, corrected the dog, drug her downstairs and threw her out the door I thought to myself, ‘self, at least it wasn’t your shoe’. That’s true. It wasn’t my shoe.

So yeah, lbd pee’d in a shoe. My wife’s croc to be exact. This is the same dog that fought with the sprinkler system twice this summer (dog 2, sprinklers 0). The same dog that pulled one of pumps out of my backyard waterfall and destroyed it (don’t ask, I don’t know). The same dog that found the buried power cord to the other pump in the backyard waterfall and chewed it in half (yes, the gfi works). The same dog that is now in the middle of her second tour of dog training. And oh yeah, the same dog that occasionally escapes the backyard to go romp in the neighborhood.

Just to be clear, this is not the dog that ate my sons homework (really, she did. I wrote a note to the teacher. I got one back that was all water damaged. I think she laughed so hard she cried on it). Not the dog that once ate half of a Costco chocolate cake. Not the dog that always poops within seconds of me picking up all the poop in the yard. And not the dog that eats apples by the dozen, especially when I act like I might pick them all up off the ground. Not the dog that until Sunday morning I suspected of peeing in the house. No, that dog is big yellow dog (byd).

My wife has like 100 pairs of shoes. Normally I exaggerate a little, but in this case I am not. I promise. On Sunday morning at least 18 pairs of those shoes were laying around on the bedroom floor, you know, waiting to get pee’d in. So really, what are the odds that my wife comes out of the bathroom while I am throwing lbd out – and puts on the shoes that lbd just pee’d in? It’s a long shot right?

I know why crocs have those little holes in the sides now. I used to think it was for ventilation. Now I know that it is to give the pee somewhere to go when you slide your foot in a pee filled croc.

It’s a good thing I was still downstairs when my wife screamed, because I might have smiled. I may have even giggled a little. That would not have gone over well. Trust me. I composed myself by the time she got downstairs. Composed myself to give my standard response for when my wife is pissed at someone who is not me – ‘those bastards’! Except this time, this time I rolled with ‘those bitches’!

Open Letter to Cartwright Fence Guy

So some friends mentioned it may be a good idea to leave a note for the Cartwright Fence Guy. Well, I don't know if it was a good idea for ME to do it, but I did do it and stuck it to the fence. Hopefully it stays on the fence, it was a bit windy. Would it be ironic if my letter about roadside debris ended up as roadside debris? Anyhow, an open letter to the cartwright fence guy...

Dear Cartwright Fence Guy,

First, let me say thank you for the service you do in picking up other peoples junk and affixing it to the fence here. There is way too much stuff thrown out of cars (and from cyclists pockets) – and anyone who helps to clean up after these morons is a good person in my book.

I have enjoyed riding past this section of fence for several years now, seeing what new interesting garbage was affixed to the fence. I would have enjoyed it more if there hadn’t been steep freak’n hills on both sides. Anyhow, it has been like a roll through garage sale or even ride by second hand store – while I haven’t made any purchases yet, I’m sure that the right item will come my way soon.

I must admit that I rode past your sign here several times before I stopped to read it. I figured it to be a rant about cyclists and their trash, and after a long summer of hearing rants about cyclists I really didn’t want to subject myself to more.

Well one day I rode past 3 times (that’s a lot of nanocalories), and decided to stop and read it. Well, I was right, it was a rant about cyclists and their trash. The unexpected part was that it was a well written and witty rant about cyclists and their trash – not to mention the fact that it was spot on.

So you see, I agree. I have an anger that burns inside about roadside debris as well. When cyclist contribute it really ticks me off. The Gu packages are irritating, but what really gets my goat is when some wanker leaves the old tube when he changes out a flat tire. Ugh.

I will say that I do like some roadside debris though. I have quite an eclectic collection of music cds that I have collected in the last year. I do somewhat enjoy listening to those. I have a new appreciation for rap.

Anyhow, thanks again for what you do. I promise not to purposely leave crap on the roadside, and to ridicule other cyclists when they do.

TheAngryCyclist

P.S. Thanks for saying me and my carbon fiber bike look good. I know it is a lie though, my wife even makes fun of my spandex. One time a kid with a violin kid made fun of me. Yes violin kid made fun of me. Nonetheless, I appreciate the compliment. I mean that in a manly sort of way of course, especially if you are a guy.

Butt Crackers

My son called me a butt-cracker this morning. That’s pretty good, no ass hat mind you, but then he isn’t allowed to use potty words – so butt cracker is pretty solid. I just don’t know where this behavior comes from.

Speaking of butt-crackers, I heard that we aren’t allowed to call the swine flu the swine flu any longer – we have to call it H1N1. Apparently someone in the pork industry is afraid people won’t eat pork because they are afraid it will give them swine flu. Which it wont. Trichinosis yes, but no swine flu. Swine flu, you get that from your kids. Sorry pork industry, I just can’t memorize the codes for different viral strains of the flu – I am sticking with swine.

I’m not too worried though (about the swine flu) because someone at my work has put up little signs in all the bathrooms telling us to wash our hands. First came this one, which appears to encourage leisurely hand washing at work.

That’s ok I guess, I am all for leisure at work.

A few days later the chaser appeared…

This one I am not so sure of. I mean I assume that the guy in the picture is the fifth guy, you know, the one who didn’t wash. No wonder he didn’t wash, I mean he is carrying a freak’n urinal. Have you ever tried to wash your hands while carrying a urinal? I mean really. Its not like you’re going to put that bad boy down in the bathroom so you can wash right? Someone might pee in it!

And the part about ‘lets talk to the fifth guy?’ What the hell does that mean? No, YOU talk to the fifth guy ‘bathroom sign hanger upper guy’, not me. Last time I talked to a guy carrying a urinal it didn’t work out so well.

Another thing, if washing my hands after I potty helps prevent me from getting the swine flu am I to assume that I can get the swine flu from my bits? I mean, I keep pretty close track of my bits – I know where they are pretty much all the time. I think they are pretty clean too, I mean they get washed daily in the shower along with the rest of me. I don’t know.

I wonder why my son thinks I am a butt cracker.

Ties Ribbons To Bushes Guy

It’s the time of year when I don’t ride my bike so much and do other things more. You may have noticed that the last several days I didn’t do any blogging. You probably didn’t notice, but you may have. Its ok if you didn’t, but you probably should have.

So anyway I took a little blogcation and did some other stuff. Two days last week I walked around in the woods with my gun. Actually I only walked around in the woods with my gun one day. The second day I walked around in the woods without my gun because, well, I didn’t need it anymore.

OK, to be completely honest I may be exaggerating the walking around part a little bit too. See, my old man procured a new 4-wheeler – so now he has a matching set. Being old, he is more fond of riding said 4-wheelers around than walking. So yeah, deferring to him I drove around a lot with my gun and walked a little bit with my gun. The second day I mostly just rode around without my gun and got off to pee every once in a while.

It was a good time in a ‘spending time with the old man’ kind of way, but not so much in the ‘walking in the woods with a gun’ kind of way.

Have you ever seen those Family Circus comics? The ones where the kid is somewhere and he says ‘I bet I am the first one to ever be here’ – but there are little ghost dudes representing all the different people who have been there through time? I feel like that when I walk in the woods sometimes. Especially when I walk in the woods with my gun – cause I usually don’t walk on trails – just walk where ever.

Every time I feel that way though (like I am the first one to be someplace) I look around and see little pieces of ribbon tied to bushes. Dooouuuugggghh, that damn ‘tie ribbons to bushes guy‘ has already been here. The bastard. I really don’t get it. He has tied some ribbons in the damndest places. Pink ones, orange ones, yellow ones, even striped ones. Dude either likes to support a lot of causes in obscure places or has some secret government job. Makes sense to someone. Someone isn’t me.

Know what else doesn’t make sense to me? Went to the gym today (other things). Saw a guy riding the exercise bike wearing bike gloves (to protect his hands?) and flip flops on his feet. Yeah, seriously. Bike gloves and flip flops. WTF?