I’m nearly out. Shit got done around here this morning. Up at 6:15. Feed the daughter, help out mom. Get everyone sorted. Kiss wife in driveway. Drop off said daughter. Call grandparents and thank them for dinner last night. Go by shop, get there same time as door opens for first time this week, leave message for slackdick co-workers on bench, mind store front till salesmen shows, bounce the fuck out.
Get a full tank of gas, oil change, bag packed, shit piled in car. Two peanut butter sandwiches, half a dozen homemake chocolate chip cookies, six bottles of water, 100 pairs of drunkcyclist socks, $200 in cash, and a can of sprite.
I think I’m ready for Vegas. Bring ’em on!
And, yeah, this one needs mention:
We don’t know how we missed this. Apparently Bill O’Reilly had dinner with Al Sharpton recently at Sylvia’s in Harlem and had a big aha! moment. Turns out black people are pretty much the same as white people! “I couldn’t get over the fact that there was no difference between Sylvia’s restaurant and any other restaurant in New York City,” O’Reilly said on his September 19 show (Click here to hear the audio via Media Matters.) “I mean, it was exactly the same, even though it’s run by blacks, primarily black patronship.” Perhaps most surprising, O’Reilly’s meal of meat loaf, coconut shrimp, and iced tea was not once interrupted by spontaneous gang violence, singing, dancing, or jive-talk. “There wasn’t one person in Sylvia’s who was screaming, ‘M-Fer, I want more iced tea,'” he marveled. “You know, I mean, everybody was — it was like going into an Italian restaurant in an all-white suburb in the sense of people were sitting there, and they were ordering and having fun. And there wasn’t any kind of craziness at all.” Yeaaaaaah. Sounds like the craziest person there was you, dude.
Bill has a hard time telling the difference between Vaudeville and Reality. Go figure.
I’ll leave off with this – score one for the good guys:
Shortly after 9 a.m., I was among 15 cyclists heading north on St. Mary’s Road on an extension of the XXX Racing-AthletiCo team ride. After turning right off of Everett Road, we were going about 25 mph single-file on the solid white line of the shoulder. A white pick-up truck driven by Thomas Francis Lynch passed us, veered to the right and, either to scare us or to maim us, applied its brakes. There was no way to avoid a pileup, and as soon as one started, Lynch sped away.
…As we were preparing to leave, 30 minutes after the attack, the driver returned to the scene to turn himself in. After speaking with the deputy for a few minutes, he was in cuffs and being escorted into a patrol car.
According to the deputy, Lynch claimed he had braked to avoid a squirrel. The deputy told us this was, in the professional parlance of law enforcement, “bullshit.”
Aight, fuck all, see you bastards in Vegas. Death to non-believers.