Numbers

Oh that piece of paper is around here somewhere, just hold on a second
or two.

* 21 Moon Lilies have blossomed and died from Friday 6pm until Monday 8am.
* I pumped up 45 cross tyres to 60psi on Monday. Some more than once.
* Dry-mounted 28 cross tubulars. 14 didn't quite stay inflated for too long. Time will tell how many can be revived.
* I can get 27 half pb&j sandwiches out of a jar of Kroger Natural Crunchy Peanut Butter.
* It's 81 miles from my house to Betsy's.

420

So I'm on my way back from the Barnyard Dash Cross race in Loveland, OH.
Got third, flatted on the last lap, drizzled some, bumpy-fast course.

Stop in at a convenient store to grab some sort of go-juice. The one cashier is gooning on a buddy outside with his mike, he's a happy fellow, wanting to make his day go by with a little more fun than most I'd say.

So he rings me up and my total comes to $4.20. "Woah, 420, looks like a good time!", says he. I reply with some sort of remark that gives him the impression that I do indeed know what 420 is (the international smoke time (for some, it's always 420)).
"Yeah, you look like an old stoner", and he rambles on some more.
"My girlfriends mother looks like she's stoned all the time, she's like 40"
Gee thanks, I smirk, grab my change, my two cans of Monster and bag of pretzels, and head out to my VW Bus, oh wait, I get into the 4Runner.

Must have been my tired post-race look and the hair all pulled back.
Or that I just look like an old stoner. Great.

smoke

I think it would be good if I started smoking. Just a little though.
These guys across the street at Town Hill Bar, waiting for the place to open this morning (hey, I would like a beer this fine chilly morning!), seem to enjoy it, gives them something to do whilst waiting.
I sometimes wait a lot. Smoking would be a good thing to do then.
And they're pretty skinny. I like being skinny.

diaryDog, let's skip the run this morning and just walk down to DairyMart to pick up some smokes instead.

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"What's wrong? What's wrong?"

Blue skies don't always bring warmth.

A few years ago, me and my buddy Mike had a little battle. The loser would
be the first to turn the heat on in his dwelling.
Luckily I had a little gas insert in the fire place that I would use some, and with the ceiling fan blowing baby breath heat around, I lasted until November something, perhaps close to Thanksgiving.
Mike had the heat of his neighbors and the city of brotherly love to heat
up his place.
I ain't even gonna try this year. The productivity level plummets when
it's too chilly. And the lord baby Jesus knows that I do need to be
productive.
"Let us be thankful we have an occupation to fill. Work hard, increase
production, prevent accidents and be happy."

Right now the basement is warmer than up here, so it's certainly a sign
that I should stay focused and get more bike stuff straightened out.


My middle finger, on which I had been wearing a big fat X ring, is now rotting and painful. I think I got it too tight, didn't take it off enough, and now the skin's gotta reform. Sure did like the way it looked!

In celebration of the coldness I made the first of my favorite concoctions- hot water, soy milk, and maple syrup. Much too cold for Citrus Drop over ice.
Hello Autumn!

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"You have nowhere to go. I am here to protect you."

pb & j.

Everytime, I mean everytime , I make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich I drip grape jam on myself, or the carpet, or the computer keyboard.
For the past 4 days this has been the case!
Am I getting incompetant, or is my fruit side of the equation a bit off?
Whatever it is, I'm tired of being a sweet sticky mess.
Grump.
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Convert lines crap.

So I had to change a setting so's I could more efficiently and properly have the hard and soft line-breaks converted from the email client to blog.
Just like that.
Gotta go back to filing, watching the spider that lives in the shell, and running after dairyDog.
My day couldn't be much better, it's the w/e and Betsy's coming down soon.
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