back talk

today I 'back talked' the boss, 

"Don't tell me what I said."

Well, then don't fucking tell me what I did was wrong when it's you who told me to do so...he hung up on me.

Phone got thrown, desk almost got flipped, literally, but it's a heavy sum bitch....so it only ended up a-kilter on a collapsed leg after a push and a kick....find somebody else to fucking program and design on your fucking antiques...err, I mean, 'legacy equipment.'

I need a change, I fear, before I really snap....fuck.

Also, 4:15 appointment to get the tooth stitches out, sat in a chair until all about 6pm. Best healthcare in the world, right?


finding feet

this is a good article, trying to take it to heart:


Been trying to be a leader, thru compromise and trying to be 'liked'.
In order to keep order and just 'get things done.'

And what's actually gotten done during my time?

At this point, I can either throw in the towel and just fucking walk away.


I can take heed, not give one flying fuck about the petty bullshit, demonstrate I don't give fucks about petty bullshit and bang on thru with what I think is right, with what I think needs done and just fucking fight for what I think is right.

Show some fucking balls and start leading by example.

"I'm willing to put my neck on the line for this, are you?"

If the cause is just, maybe they'll follow....or not.

I can always just walk away, not like the pay is all that great.


fuck you.

i want to rant.

i soooooo want to rant.

but the exhaustion.

the bafflement.

jaw dropping
exorcist head spinning
fucking bewilderment.

you've heard about that guy,
I've now run across him.

All I wanna do is fight
for cold clean water
and if we build it,
they will come.

fight those battles.

Not perform a trimonthly
self inflicted fucking triage
because of some fucking
cuntbag's personal battle
for self aggrandizing

fuck him.

I didn't sign up for this,
but I will see it thru.


at the bar...

this conversation I had tonight....I've got something to say about that.

I think I made a point.

We talked about 'taking out the bad guys.' My new friend also talked about building 'community' and how that is the answer to gun control....pare it down and it sounds an awful lot like local militia type stuff...but anyways.....talkin' about taking out the bad guys, put a bullet in their head, meth head/dealer/druggie/lowlife...dude had lived in some rough neighborhoods, bullet in the head, that is the prescription, regardless.

OK then.

Terrorists are bad guys too, right? We can all agree to that....

9/11 was how long ago?

And our response was?

"Bullet in the head" for the most part.

So we went in there, and put a bullet in the head of all of those extremists.

And you know what? Those extremists had families, just as all those meth heads, crack dealers and druggie lowlifes do.

How old do you think those 4, 5, 10 & 12 year olds are now? How do you think those kids view this world of ours? Those kids who saw their world bombed back to the middle ages or who saw their Uncle's wedding get drone striked...what do you think those kids are up to today?

What do you think those kids are up to, today?



fuck me.

I haven't put myself thru
something like that in a
long time.

I'm not even looking
at reasons why.

It was a bad day compiled
by poor preperation.

These legs of Sept are not
those legs of summer.

I cracked at mile 50.
Though I got thru the
third timed section ok.
Heart revs were there,
was still ticking over the
gear, seemed good.

And then the lights went out.
There was a big battle with the
cramp monter in those dark
back alleys of slum town.
Classic stuff...

Why in the fuck,
am I doing this?
Asked a lot questions,
I didn't wanna answer.

The second 60/100 split
at Aid 3 was one of those
turns.  You know there is
no good to come from
either choice.

Bail = Months of gnawing regret.
Ride on = Me pushing my fucking
road bike up a climb because I had
nothing. Kip clop, Kip clop, Kip clop.

I ain't proud, fuck it.

What a fucking day.

And the with that, all I can say
 is Thank-you.

Thank you to Ralph & his crew for
putting on one hell of a series. Always
awesome to catch up with old friends.

And thanks to all the volunteers, your
loooong day is much appreciated.

And a special fuck you to the 'cakes, good stuff.



I sit here, in my back yard,
beer #6 in hand, huh #whut?

It was a very good day.

Full of doubt.

For some reason,

Today was the day.

When else, would I
consider myself


Your peers,
your friends,
you see what they do,
so why not you?

One step at a time.

Step taken today,
118 doorstep to doorstep
on those skinny tires.

All you gots to do is pedal,
same as it ever was.
Been doing it all my life.

Just pedal.


qwik n dirty

plans change.
plans are made.

plan j:
lose weight, get 'fit'.
vive' le Tour.

Plan h:
poach three days, missing
out on the first two.

Day 1/Stage 3:
I happily embrace my inner roadie.
I love riding road bikes, smooth,
efficient and plenty of time to take
it all in.

We climbed up Reddish, which I
was actually looking forward to.
And we got to descend out of the
saddle, double yeah hawll!

Moyer's Gap is a special spot,
nice sustained 19% ramp at the

"This is gonna take everything I got." - Buck

Then it rained, and we road a shit
ton of wet fireroad.  My road bike
now hates me. Everybody ended up
numb, one way or the other.

Day2/Stage 4:
Big & Schlossy.
Tony B'town & I commuted
north, catching on the last 5yrs,
following the caravan of mtb
clad vehicles.

We ride mtn bikes north on the road,
make a few turns, settle in.  Parade
up into the forest, parade some trail,
stuff the front end and bang a leg off
the bike.  Ouch.
 Long is timed section, big ups,
groovy down and empty at the bottom.
Regroup. Ride/hike to the overlook.
Hang out for a bit with fellow
slummers and take it all in.

Lunch, sketchy fireworks, FREEDOM!
Then on that first steepish slimey bit
of down, slow speed stuff of the front
and over we go. Bang.

Do I still have all my teeph?

Yeah?  cool, I still have all my teeth.
But I am spitting out blood, neat.
Really busted my lip on that one...

Typical regroup/recovery and finally
back to steady gunning slumming'
tempo after an hour or so.

Just in time to make a wrong turn
and not realize it.  Get to the bottom
and hit an unmarked T, hmmmm.
There's skidmarks, there's tracks,
there's a downed tree blocking that way,
so go the other. Left is north, right is south.

Eventually find the road, and yeah,
I'm off course. Fuck, shoulda turned left
back there, so I guess I need to turn left
on the road and head north towards
where that left pops out and wherever
the hell we're parked.

Then I made some very poor route choices,
starting with that left turn, and for the next
hour or so and went for a very long, very
lost spin on the roads up around Bryce Resort
in the exact opposite direction of where I
needed to be going. It was a long trudge
backtrack down 42 and back over the Orkney
Grade where serendipity reigned and I
was picked up quickly at the crossroads
on a hunch.

JamesK, I owe you, you too Sue G.! Thank You!

So after that 2hours of extra roadieness,
the busted lip and other additional impacts,
I was feeling kinda hollow come Sunday,
so I saw the peloton off and went home,
tail between my legs.

vive leTour'