One Angry Duck

Wife just called. He is in the driveway and won't move. Seriously.

Should have made a coyote yesterday.

Moving In.

He was in front of my house in the street this morning. The duck that is.

I wonder if they will read these posts in a haunting and foreshadowing kind of way when they do the 20/20 special on the man killed by an angry duck...

My First Stalker

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

You know, because if you write sometimes offensive stuff and put it on the internet you are bound to piss someone off eventually. There was that incident a while back where I got banned for a few weeks, but I never thought that I would have a real, live stalker.

Well, I am pretty sure that I do now.

I woke up early Saturday morning to the sound of him circling the block like 5 times. I gotta say I was a little bit miffed. I mean, if you want to stalk me fine, but can you at least do it quietly? I only have so many chances to sleep in and there you were ruining it.

Bastard. Get a life.

So yeah, there he is circling, and circling fairly quickly I might add. I knew it was a guy because, well, girls sound different. It went something like this…

quack, quack, quack, quack, quack

quack, quack, quack, quack, quack

quack, quack, quack, quack, quack

quack, quack, quack, quack, quack

quack, quack, quack, quack, quack

Finally the little crapper must have gotten tired and went away, but I had a feeling I would see him again.

So yesterday one of our toilets broke. The cheesy plastic arm thing that connects to the cheesy plastic flusher handle on one side, and the cheesy little metal chain on the other side snapped – so I had to get a new flusher lever and plastic arm thing. Lowe’s had several varieties, but they all had one thing in common – the cheesy plastic arm thingy. Why the hell would you make a nice flusher handle out of metal or wood or something, then attach it to a cheesy plastic arm thingy that will need to be replaced in 5 years – and oh, by the way, is not sold separately. Yeah, it’s a toilet flusher racket. They got you by the poo.

Anyhow, when I got back home – there he was waiting in the neighbors yard. See, and you thought all that toilet story was irrelevant. I would have been nervous, but you know, he doesn’t even have opposable thumbs. He is a duck. I am pretty sure he is the duck I wrote about here. I mean, it looks exactly like him.

He is probably pissed because all of the geese read my blog, they saw how nice it is for waterfowl here in Boise, then came and took over the joint. That’s what I am thinking.

He was waiting for me this morning…



That’s him on the neighbors roof. Hopefully I don’t get arrested for taking a picture of the neighbors bathroom window. That would be awkward.
Duck or not, it was disconcerting to see him there waiting.

It’s ok though. I have a plan, I am going to get one of those plywood coyotes.

Asphalt Fishing

My advancing age made itself disturbingly clear over the weekend.

It started on Friday when I played hooky from work and went skiing with a friend. It was the first time in like 15 years that I deliberately skied off trail so much. I dropped off a cornice, went off some jumps, whacked some bushes, and even threw in a face plant.

I knew I didn’t have my ‘A’ game anymore when I had to think about dropping off a cornice. I knew my skills had diminished when I found myself skiing in the back seat a few times. Not even my wreck was very good. I mean, in the old days when I wrecked I would be going so fast that I would tumble down the hill a ways – and more often than not, ski out of it.

This time I just kind of piled up on my head. Like a turd. A big snowy turd.

The fact that I was relieved I didn’t hurt anything when I fell was also indicative of my age. I think my skiing age was about 70.

I had fun though. At least until I got up to go on my cycling team ride on Saturday. Holly crap. Did you know that there are muscles in your butt? Apparently in the backs of your legs too. And speaking of backs, apparently there are some muscles in there too. Yeah, I never notice those things till they are sore.

So I didn’t feel so good during the ride. Just kind of waddled through it, duck style.

Speaking of waddling, why the hell can’t geese fly to the other side of the road?

Near the end of the ride, Johnny Atmos, Keeb’s and myself saw a couple fishing in a parking lot off Morris Hill. You don’t see that every day. Fishing on asphalt. Even more interesting is the fact that they seemed to be catching a wiener dog.
I pretty surprised. I mean, I always figured a wiener dog would fight more like a bass, but this one seemed to use more of a sucker fish technique. Or maybe a squawfish, err, northern pike minnow technique.

I know it’s hard to believe. You know, that a wiener dog fights like a sucker.

John told me I should turn around and get a picture, but that’s how tired I felt. Just too tired to photograph wiener dog fishing.

You won’t believe this, but down the road about a block – there were more people parking lot fishing in a different parking lot. I didn’t see any fish on. Or wiener dogs.

Must have been one of those parking lot fishing tournaments or something.

It got worse, Sunday when I went to Lowes Home Improvement Warehouse I had the store employee cut my particle board to the desired dimensions. Yup, so old that I passed up a chance to use my power tools. I did rally a little later and cut a bunch of crap with my saws-all. I will never be too old to saws-all.

To cap it off, I watched Rambo on Sunday night. Not the one where the young-ish Rambo goes around killing red neck cops. Or the one where the middle aged Rambo kills Vietnamese and rescues prisoners. Not even the one where the over the hill Rambo goes to Afghanistan and kills Russians. Yeah, I watched the one where the old Rambo goes around and graphically kills miscellaneous Asians.

After Rambo killed about 1,000 guys I decided that the movie was just too gory for me. Too gory? Yup I am old.

Trikking?

So I was rolling back from a nooner yesterday and I - I mean a noon time ride. Yeah, I was on my way back from a noon time ride, a noon time bike ride, when I saw these people rocking down the gb on some of those stand up trike gizmos.

When I say rocking, I mean rocking as in back and forth – you know, the trikes are one of those things that move forward when the rider moves side to side? Like those skate boards that only have 2 wheels? The ones with the wiggly bastards on them?

So yeah, there they are rocking about 4 feet from side to side for every foot they moved forward. I love it when people weave back and forth on the gb.

At least these people weren’t going very fast. I think I saw a guy with a walker pass them. It may have been because of the wind. The headwind was a bitch yesterday.

Anyway, I was able to squeeze past by zigging when they were zagging.

I did a little googling because they surely have a name besides standy uppy trike gizmos right?

Turns out they are called Trikkes. Yup, one k wasn’t enough. Check out the video…



Um, yeah.

Wiggling is for strippers and those guys that hold the clearance signs on sticks – not for propulsion.

I will admit though, it does look kind of fun. Fun until, you know, you hit something. Hit something like this guy who apparently got scared and forgot to wiggle…



“you’re not going to cry are you?” Excellent.

No wiggling? Broken wrist? There goes that guys career as a sign wiggly guy. He had the look too.

Damn, such a waste.

My googlethon also turned up this - which is largely unrelated but just too good not to share. I particularly like the sexy in the city part...



Because what could be sexier than wrestling a 3 wheeled weed wacker through the city.

Watcha Gonna Do

I was out riding the other day and saw a few different fellows riding their time trial bikes while rocking baggies.

Believe me, I can understand the allure of a time trial bike. So sleek, so smooth, and curvy in all the right places. The not so pretty places cleverly hidden where it won’t matter. Yeah, time trial bikes are a lot like… Um, time trial bikes.
So yeah, it doesn’t surprise me when I see people rocking around town on them. I mean, who doesn’t want to be seen with a hot, fast bike.

Besides the fact that they generally are hard to steer, the wheels are delicate, and they can be somewhat uncomfortable to ride they are just perfect for commuting or general riding.

It was the baggies that bothered me. So you go to the shop and buy the sweetest, fastest looking tt bike because, you know, you want to go fast. So there you are hopping on your ‘go fast bike’ just like freaking Fabian Cancellara.

Except for that parachute you are wearing to cover your ass. I am no engineer, but I am thinking your parachute more than cancels the several grand you spent on your bike. You better get a tt helmet. Nothing makes you look cool riding around town like a giant sperm tt helmet.

Not to mention that when you are rocking your parachute, err baggies, on your bike it all kind of blows up, exposing your pasty whiteness all the way up to your bits.
How come whenever I hear a siren I can’t stop myself from singing ‘bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you’. Man that makes me crazy.

Anyway, yeah, your parachute all poofs out and exposes your pasty whiteness and your bits to anyone coming the other way. I really didn’t need to see that bro. I am thinking I would prefer you wear spandex. I am thinking that much exposure may be illegal in Boise.

That is, unless you are wearing pasties. I think then it is ok.

Anthropomorphism Gone Wild

So there is this local bike racer, Erik Slack doing some bike racing in Europe this summer. All I really know about Erik is that he used to beat me in cat 4/5 and cat 3 bike races before he moved up. That, and he bitched at me once for riding too fast on a training ride when he stopped to pee, so he had to pedal harder than he wanted to catch up.

So yeah, I don't really know the dude - but I am living vicariously by reading his blog while he is in Europe. The other day he showed a picture beverage that they drink over there - it was called Orangina.

Of course, you know, me having the maturity of a 12 year old read it as Orangina instead of Orangina. You know what I mean. You did it too. You know you did.

I'm like WTF? A little google action later and I come across this...



I have seen a lot of deer before, but never, ever, like that one. Holy crap. Its like anthropomorphism gone wild. Is that bambi's mom?

So a little more looking and this comes up...



I know, I should have stopped at the deer. Thank God for fig leaves - I have no desire to see were-bear bits. Oh man. And I thought that the little Microsoft Office paper clip guy freaked my out when it winked. Whoa. Wrong on so many levels.

If you are feeling brave check this out...



For some reason I keep thinking of Montana when I see these. I don't know.

I do know if I ever stumble across a some Orangina it's gonna be hard not to try it.