ironically i’m writing this to help kill time so the bmw shuffle can go smoother…
…ya see, the boy has yet ANOTHER wisdom tooth consult today. this is his third. the second in a month.
don’t get the wife started on that, ’cause today was supposed to be surgery day and they changed it to a consult with less than twenty-four hours notice. yeah, try to do THAT shit with them and see how well it goes. but their time is worth more than ours in their eyes, so here we are.
we have a two car garage, and a two car width driveway…but we own three. the garage is resided in by “quinn” (the ufc’s 2015 bmw x1) and mr. grey (my 2001 bmw 330ci convertible) and then in the driveway behind mr. grey is black betty (2011 bmw 535i). typically i pull betty into quinn’s space when the wifey is away, especially if it’s a day like today where i wanna take mr. grey out to stretch his legs around town since we’re still (in my eyes) in the “we’ll see” time after his tune-up and gasket replacement.
needless to say all fluids WILL be checked before he’s backed out.
but they don’t leave for the oral surgeon’s till 9:30am and it’s (checks time) 8:45 so i have some time to kill, then it’s crunch time to do a shitload of housework (including drain snaking with a loaned professional auger) before i go to work.
no rest for the weary…
…but while we have three cars in this house, we have something like nine or ten bikes, but at least we’re not THESE motherfuckers:
(and if you were born the day this bit came out you can get your license today!)
03/23/2002: “half a car in wheels, but twice the points!!!”
okay, so before you skip ahead on this one (like each and every one of you doesn’t hang on my EVERY word, right? stroke the ego…stoke the ego…hey wait…that’s not my ego…damn cinemax…but i digress) know that i own a mountain bike, and am currently piecing together the 20″ bike of my teenage dreams with modern components slowly but surely (i’m immature like that sometimes); the bottom line is, i’m a bike (as in bicycles…but motorcycles, too…the latter of which has nothing to do with this piece, however) kinda guy. but you know what the difference between me and a lot of the morons out there is? when i’m on my bike, i’m on a BIKE.
i don’t think i’m a CAR.
ever dealt with this dumb ass on the road? they are SO their own breed. i believe their species classification is “cyclus moronus”, latin for “two wheels, two firing brain cells”. you can’t miss them, really (man do i mean that in more than one way) just look at the front of any slow moving (and i mean SLOW MOVING) lane of traffic when everybody else seems to go the normal speed. up in front, dead center of the right lane, getting the finger from everybody who has to cut off the left lane folk to get around his granola-chewing, planet saving, tree-hugging, birk-wearing, patchouli-reaking ass is mr. schwinn. you know what i do?
i tail-gate the FUCK out of him.
i get so close, that if he were to play that game where he slams on his brakes to stop me from following so closely, i’m gonna leave a concoction on the road of twisted metal, whole-foods canvas bags, and a splatter that looks kinda like that brownish-orange seepage you have left on your plate after you eat enchiladas at one of those places on the east side that has a questionable record with the health department. unfortunately for me, they never slam on their brakes. but one DID decide to voice his opinion to me the other day.
after staying so close his shadow was on the passenger seat of my car (he he he), i pulled into waterloo records. that was when little mister pedal-power decided to take a stand against me, the ever-present symbol of “the great oppressor” (no, my personal car doesn’t have the “WHT DVL” vanity plates that my rental truck had…it has the more muslim-friendly “WHT STN” plates). he just didn’t realize that the person he decided to take a stand against was 5’8″, 235, and physically the size that can turn him into the aforementioned enchilada stain WITHOUT the use of a car. when i got out to face his raving, screaming self, his demeanor became, let’s just say, a bit more passive.
“think you were a bit too close?”, he said.
“think you were a bit too SLOW?”, i countered.
“i have just as much right to be on the road as YOU do. i have all the rights of a car!!!”, he responded.
“dude, you are SO right”, i said much to his surprise, “..and do you know what i’d do to a CAR that was driving 12 mph in a 35 mph zone where everyone actualy goes 40? i’d tail-gate the FUCK out of him till he moved!!! welcome to the wonderful world of CARS!!!”
then i gave him a “triple a” sticker to put on his mountain bike. if you’re gonna PLAY the part, LOOK the part, right? like i said, i LOVE riding my bike, and riding with friends and certain special someones who enjoy it as well. but lest we forget, when you are on your bike, you are NOT A FUCKING AUTOMOBILE. if anything, you’re auto-kibble. realize your place on the rolling food chain, or suffer the painful darwinian consequences.