Yeah, I’m still on the right side of the lawn. But that doesn’t mean I’m not covered in deadlines, allergens and whatnot.
The few times I’ve surfaced for a peek at the news my outlook was not improved. It seems everyone’s nuts, armed and lawyering up.
Well, at least I don’t need any lawyers. Not right this moment, anyway.
Meanwhile, as a respite from the tyranny of evil men, have a listen to Hal Walter, who is trying really hard to be the shepherd.
I see my birth state, Maryland, is joining with the District of Columbia in suing Don Clementino for making money off a presidency he considers an impediment to his golf game.
The lawsuit, a signed copy of which [was] provided to The Washington Post on Sunday night, alleges “unprecedented constitutional violations” by Trump.
Nice to see the old home crowd standing tall while the Congress scurries about, trying to give the banana to our Republic.
We’re enjoying a stretch of summery weather in the Duke City, and I am ever so glad I chose a career in rumormongery rather than landscaping.
The neighbors have a crew in, reshaping the back yard to make it a pleasant playpen for their anklebiters, and from a safe distance this looks an awful lot like work, especially when the temps inch into the 90s.
I got a late start on my ride Wednesday and by the time I had climbed back from the bosque to El Rancho Pendejo I was feeling not unlike a rotissery chicken but didn’t smell nearly as appetizing.
Still, it was worth it. The ride was nearly all downhill along the Paseo de las Montañas bike path and Indian School to downtown/Old Town, where I headed west on Mountain (a “Bicycle Boulevard”) to the Paseo del Bosque.
The winds were cooperative — mostly blocked by the bosque’s cottonwoods while riding north and providing a distinct assist on the Paseo del Norte trail and Osuna/Manitoba. Only on the short southbound stretch of the North Diversion Channel Trail did I face a headwind. Life is suffering, as the Buddha has taught us.
That Space Horse may be a tad small at 55cm, but it’s comfy for a couple-three hours. Especially if you get an earlier start and don’t sweat all over the poor little pony.
And not just me, either: While we were all entranced with “The Comey Show,” the House GOP was continuing the Lord’s work, which is to say hotwiring the Republic and tooling on over to the Thieves Paradise Chop Shop.
Look for that crowd to redouble its efforts before it comes out that the real Donald Trump croaked back in the Eighties while horning lines off Russian hookers three at a time and this bozo is an old KGB pro with a new face.
I’ll confess that I only watched a little of Comey’s testimony. As soon as Little Marco’s earnest, sweaty mug popped onto The New York Times video feed, I kitted up and shot out the door for a bike ride before it got too bloody hot here, too.
I wonder who was tasked with holding the elephant tranquilizers for Don Clementino while his piggy little eyes took it all in. Probably President Bannon. I bet he even pre-chewed ’em for the poor little tyke.
Adventure Cyclist tech editor Nick Legan is fixin’ to start the Tour Divide.
In case you were wondering, this is entirely unlike logging two-hour rides on loaner bikes around Albuquerque.
As we speak, Nick’s headed to his start in Antelope Wells, New Mexico. But before he hit the road, he posted a peek at the bike he’ll be riding and some of the gear he’s taking along.
Me? I’m still doing those two-hour loaner-bike rides around Albuquerque, thanks. This keeps me within cellphone range of Herself in case I augur in or stroke out; ensures that my food and water will be served hot and cold, respectively; and spares me the humilation of rolling up to the Tour Divide start only to drop to my knees and squeal: “Do I gotta? Maaaaaammmmmmaaaaaa!”
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