Sitting here before you, today finds me not only furiously addressing envelopes in preparation for the kit’s arrival (which from this point forward will be known as “Stretchypantsageddon”), but I have quarterly taxes to prepare as well, and I’ve found that hand scribbled notes to myself don’t officially count as actual receipts.
An image plucked off the internet to illustrate what I would look like if I had a tie on and two men were standing behind me, also with ties. The only exception is I look alot less enraged and alot more like I’m about to cry.
With that being said, I should apologize in advance if this week’s posts might seem either
A) lack luster,
B) not here.
I will attempt to maintain momentum, but with the current state of affairs, I can’t promise anything.
And speaking of hangovers, I had the pleasure of spending the evening with my old friend the Bike Snob, (‘old’ in fixed gear years, meaning four) as he sauntered through town last week and did the thing that he’s doing while on tour. From my perspective, he looked like this;
My sofa was soft and very comfy, and before I knew it had all but enveloped my body with its sofa-ie goodness. The presentation was a delightful experience and I left beaming with a new found sense of what it means to be a cyclist. (Or depending on who in the crowd you asked, a cycler.)
Never being one to allow someone else to bask in their glory alone, I enthusiastically agreed to take part in a front side/back side autograph extravaganza, with the Snob taking the front;
And as usual, me bringing up the rear;
After highjacking as much of his night as I could, we adjourned to find foodstuffs, and varying libations;
The evening concluded with the two of us riding back downtown, and parting ways somewhere between my train and his hotel. From that point, my experiences proceeded thusly;
I boarded a train, leaned against a wall, fell asleep, woke up, went home, fall asleep again, woke up, and saw this;
I would like to note that just moments after I took this photo, my host brought me a cup of coffee, which I promptly dropped my phone into.
With no time to spare, I had to drag my sorry ass back to my house in preparation for the pre-wedding reception for one Complayna Nerdowell and her J.P.H.N.H.
Though I should have started with a liver cleanse, I mostly just started with a shower and a nap.
I pedaled to the spot to first see H.N.H. in the process of making an army of ‘Baja Fogs’ for a toast. I was looking forward to this, as I have long heard of their deliciousness and magical properties. Anything consisting of beer, tequila and lime sounds pretty good in my book.
We all saluted the happy couple and I took a swig of what can only be described as a Corona with a cigarette in it.
I give the Baja Fog one enthusiastic thumbs down. As the night wore on and the crowd grew larger, I became more determined to document every event, as I might need the photos for reference the following day;
Eventually the Lego Mini-Me was pulled out and shots started flowing;
After closing out the pre-wedding reception, I once again jumped on my bike to engage in some me time and upon arriving home found that both Simon, and GenO had been busy sullying my domain;
Closing the night out at 1-something in the morning, the pillows were calling our names, so we all did what came naturally, which was to stay up for another couple of hours.
Having foolishly agreed to lead a ride for some of the wedding guests, we were up and out again at 8:30 the following morning (in reality, it was just a few hours after we fell asleep), and the time for the rad getting was at hand;
I thought this shot of Simon was cool, as GenO snapped it the very second that my flash went off.
Post ride, we came back to our host’s pad and prepared the infamous Shit Bike for its appearance in the wedding;
How do we make a bike work with V-brakes and no levers? We steal a coaster brake wheel off of Complayna’s Folsom of course.
After wrestling with various configurations of toe straps, zip ties, and duct tape, we finally agreed upon a use of the latter and some random Yakama rack hardware;
Duct tape can do no wrong.
Anyway, fast forward again and we’re all dressed really nicely and getting drunk again (still?) but this time on a boat. Because of the waves and the boat’s rocking to and fro, I was never really sure of how sober I was. Everyone was dressed to the nines, and a fine time was had by us all;
Here Joe’s brother Jay demonstrates proper grooming technique, when using a tiny switchblade comb.
At the ceremony’s conclusion, we returned to land where we first witnessed the happy couple’s parade lap;
Which then turned into an impromptu skid competition, wherein GenO took it upon himself to ride off the end of the dock into the harbor;
“Move along folks. Nothing to see here.”
As family and friends made their ways off into different corners of the country, backs were patted and cheeks were kissed in parting from this weekend of milestones.
To the Bike Snob I would like to say publicly how proud I am of him and his efforts, and likewise, I would like to also offer a sincere high five to J.P.H.N.H and Complayna for their union.
As a result of a weekend filled with both of these things, I should finally apologize to my liver, pancreas, and overall digestive tract for the constant barrage of abuses.
They stand by me through thick and thin, and all I ever do is treat them with neglect and disdain.
Alrighty then folks, as the impending pile of tasks loom, I thank you for sticking around, bid you a fond farewell, and offer you a secret handshake as the top of the week melts into its belly.
A belly that begs for the mark of a Sharpie.
Until the next go around.