downhill slalom...

... or on critical mass

the bastard now believes there is a god. mostly because there is evidence of his/her sense of humor. the minute the engines are running, the cars are packed up, we pull out of the campground, the sun comes out. i think i might have heard the voice of jesus yell, "suckers" on the wind. upside of this, i get the joke. so anyway, we decide to go down the way we came since it's clear out. problem with this is, it was a steep climb coming up, so you know how it's going down :-O

we have the truck in L1 (jonny airplanes drives an automatic or rather his dad does because, it's his truck we're borrowing) and despite our best efforts we still have to use the brakes because we're doing 35 despite the gear on the truck and we see a bicyclist off in the distance.

she has the requisite rear view mirror, so she sees us barrel, not that we're really into this whole barreling down the hill thing but, she doesn't move. suddenly i'm reminded of a guy i know who works for killing stuff monthly's sister publication which we will call killing stuff more poetically. anyway this editor takes part in the monthly critical mass rides in our area (he actually went into the clink at little guantanamo the friday before the republican national convention in 2004 because of it too) and it got me to thinking about bicyclists in new york city. you see, i dodge alot of bicyclists daily because by and large they ride around my streets like over entitled jerks. the thing i gather from the critical mass organization is that, the world would be a better place if people drove less cars. and they're right. BUT, bicyclist by and large do NOT obey traffic laws and are surprised when people start to cross the street when they have the light. i one time saw a guy stiffen up and knock a bicyclist off of his bike and then walk away (big fucking guy too). i don't know if anyone else did but, i clapped. it was well deserved. a bike is a vehicle that you don't need a license for BUT, you have to obey the law. and bicyclists don't. therefore, this person who won't move their worthless ass over is a jerk.

finally we manage to slalom our way around our requisite road hog and make are way down the hill. the brakes reeked of burning asbestos thanks to the good graces of this jerk. thanks, shiteyes. here's mud in 'em

—the bastard