Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Cold Front


No dammit, you're not even listening to me, I said COLD FRONT.

Ok that's better. The morning temperatures here have been sniffing near the crack of frozenness this week, and I for one am not used to it. All that nonsense about growing up in winterland doesn't mean you don't get cold, although people wearing coats and/or biking with facemasks here when it is 60 degrees is another story.

What kind of a world do we live in when a grown man can't hop on his excessively nice road bike, don his nancy spandex tights, and put on a silly headband without getting a chill?

4 comments:

Inspector Javert said...

wake the fuck up, put on yer fanny pack and git going, Mary. VeloCache Monterey! BAM!

DaveO said...

I had the pleasure of meeting the 'Hook' at the Union Bar many years ago. He was standing at the then newfangled snack machine with the white spiral things and alpha numeric code for your snack. The Hook looked at the machine for a few seconds and then turned to me and asked, "How do ya'all get de chips ouch dis muthafukker?"

reverend dick said...

You cannot lie to my computer face and tell me lies like "velocache is out of my budget" when I see you, shaking that ass, riding down a street in the town where you live. Because in that town and towns so near it as to be practically (for all real world uses) the same town there are caches hidden and waiting to be found out.

Some of them contain good treasure.

reverend dick said...

velocachemonterey.blogspot.com