i walk my dogs, for example. they love fresh air as much--and maybe more--than i do. i try to get them out as much as possible. but sometimes at night, i just like to stroll around the neighborhood--anyone's, for that matter--just to relax, to unwind, to look at the stars. you know, just walk around, taking things in. you never know what you'll come across.
well, one recent night, i scored BIG time. like finding that first road porn of springtime, i found what i knew would be out there, but just didn't know where, or when, to look. the motherlode, the holy grail of cycling: the punk rock secret training center. you all know about the punk girls, but where do they train in the winter? you never see them outside, but that fitness just doesn't happen. it comes the old fashioned way: hard work, and lots of it. well, good thing my old dick tracy wrist radio has a secret camera, too. lookie here what i found:
well, i don't have the complete 2009 roster, but this punker was putting in the hours on the new specialized s-works killer kilometre rollers, with speed-0-meter/fan attachment prominently apparent. watch out, women and children: they mean bidniz in '09.
one of the benefits of these late-night meanderings is the wonderful clarity of mind that comes over me, and the resultant ideas that enter and exit my mind are--no shit--the stuff of greatness. above is just one of the "patent-pendings" languishing in the "in-box" at the u.s. patent office. oh yeah, i'm gonna be rich and famous, and YOU all are gonna be safe and wearing one if these in the not-too-distant future. so when they DO drop the big one--and they will, rush says so, you can thank me for my late-night strolls by joining me on one of my post-apocalyptic but completely safe bike rides. until then, la-de-da; i'm going for a walk now.
