Velociworld

I GOT BLISTERS ON MY FINGERS

One of the joys of batching it is the occasional visit from one of the neighbor wives to "see if I'm doing okay and have something to eat" (read: see if I'm polluted beyond all recognition and teabagging with Philips Highway strumpets).

Let me make it easy for you, ladies. I'm doing fine, thank you. Quite sober and eating heart healthy mahi filet with carrot salad for din-din. No carbo's, even. I ostentatiously cruised the neighborhood in full biker-fag regalia this morning winding down from my 20 mile ride, mowed and trimmed the lawn, and pruned that scuzzy crape myrtle just so you'd leave me alone.

When you hear me playing Naked Gator in the pool around midnight screaming the lyrics to The Woodpecker's Hole with Revolution Number Nine playing at level 10, THAT'S the time to come over.