One of those days, man. Woke up in a great mood, kitted up and rode into the rockpile feeling pretty good about my non-dependence to the car. Took a shower and grabed my plate that I keep here and went to re-heat my omelet that I brought with me. In the process I somehow managed to drop the plate on the floor and I watched it fragment into a 100 pieces. Cut myself on the drop. So now I'm down one plate. Luckily, there is a plate under the sink, so I clean it and get back to re-heating the ommy. I'm dying for it because it has a turkey patty in there with some cut up tom-toms from the garden. Anyway, I manage to get the thing heated, eated, and digested without further incident. So 10am comes and my belly blows the whistle so I decide to work up a little snack. Back to the kitchen with my new found plate to get workin' on some celery with cheese. In the process, I managed to drop the plate and spill a glass of water onto the floor. Luckily the glass was plastic or I would have been picking up those shards as well. It can't get worse, can it? I've hit the nader, right? All the same, I won't hold it against you if you see me board your plane today, and you go running for the exit. If, I siddle up next to you on the group ride, and you launch yourself off the front or the back of the peloton. If my wife/girlfriend/$1000 Las Vegas Call Girl/$5 crackwhore won't let me have sex with her/them even though I'm douple wrapped, and vasectomied. No doubt your day is going better than mine, so smile.

Johnny GoFast