Daver's right on the subject. I thought I was good even back in day after I'd been on smashboards for a little while. Truth is, I sucked. Actually, I still do suck, but way not as much........err.....wait! NO! I'm best in the world! I could 4 stock Ken, Isai, and Eddie all on a team vs me, team attack off, my handicap 1 and theres 9. Don't doubt...Beleive.........
Anyways, here's a little story while I'm bored since my legs are temporarily out of order. I've only gone on like 3 bike rides this season. If you didn't know, my fat *** actually is an avid biker. Anyhoo, the last bike ride I took was only 8.7 miles (I have one of those sweet mountain bikes with the little computer thing on it...It's so bad ***), and my legs felt like they were gonna fall off then. So today, at about 9:15, I figured it was a beautiful day, so I'd go for a morning bike ride. Anyways, it was so nice, I ended up going to metro beach. Now by that time, my legs were pretty sore, but the sight of the ****ing gorgeous women rollerblading and walking made me not care about my legs. Funny, just like the bloodiest, stinkiest of fish chum attracts sharks like nothing else, a nice warm spring day is like hot biznatch attractant. So I was in a good mood, but my mood soon shattered when I found out that the whole ride back I'd have the wind in my face. Not to mention it was a dtrong wind, so peddling the bike was excrutiatingly painful. I find a pay phone to call pops to pick me up, just to find out that they upped the price of a call to friggin 50 cents!!! Oh well, I had $1.30-ish, so I was cool.
First phone: No long distance calls. Give me a ****ing break! It's only roughly 20 miles between phones. How is that long distance? Stupid *** phone service long distance....uhh....stuff!
Second phone: Eats my 50 cents. ****! Gotta find a new phone, which I don't come into contact with until about 3 more miles.
Third phone: Busy signal. Who the **** is on the phone?!?! Call back 5 minutes later, still busy. 5 minutes after that, busy. Son of a ****ing *****!!! Oh well, even though it'll suck, I'll pedal another mile into fast winds.....
Fourth phone: Eats my 50 cents. Now I can't make a phone call to pops unless I stumble on to some money. I go in the gas station to cuss the guy out, and tell him to fix his ****ing stupid *** ******* ***** *** **** *** phone. I'll pedal a little more down Gratiot. There's gotta be another gas station in another mile. What the ****, I've come this far. What's another mile?
5th phone: I'm at 14 and Gratiot at a shell gas station. Nobody around but fat girls, no joke. I walk across the street to Hooters, which had a few perverted shmucks standing around in the parking lot. This cool black guy was nice enough to give me a quarter, and even though I shouldn't be smoking, a cigarette. So I walk back to the Shell, and try to call home. No answer. 5 minutes later, still no answer. Finally, 5 minutes later, I must have let the phone ring like 50 times. My dad answers! Thank the Lord!!!! So I sit down on a curb, and I saw a dime just sittin there, so I picked it up, went inside, and bought a pack of the most kick *** gum ever, Juicy Frizuit. 15 minutes later, pops pulls up with the truck, and my *** is home free!
When I finally got home, pops was nice enough to hook me up with 3 vicodins, which I ate immediately. Right now as I type, they've kicked in, and my legs feel like they aren't going to fall off my torso anymore!! Plus, I have a teeny tiny buzz to accompany me. Since I'm no longer a morphine addict, 3 vicodins actually gave me a buzz! Not to mention, I have the ultimate farmer's tan going! I checked the computer on the bike, and I rode for a total of 2 hours and 50 minutes, I averaged 10.2 miles an hour (going against the wind ****ed up my average! It was at like 14mph when I first got to metro), and my total mileage was 26.5 miles. A few more 18-20 mile rides, and I should be able to do the full 32 mile ride again. Hopefully pops'll hook it up with a few more pills tomorrow, because if it hurts this bad today, tomorow will be 10 times worse. Oh well, all for the love of the bike ride baby!
Morale of the story: If you're a fat ***, don't go for a 26.5 mile bike ride after your lazy *** hasn't done a **** thing all winter. If I was still smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, my heart probably would have exploded at about mile 15.
If you read that whole thing, you must be REALLY bored!
THE END!
