New Mexico cyclists, bend over, ‘cuz here it comes again. HB 192, the five foot passing bill, was amended at the last minute to include a sidepath bicycling requirement.
Well, goddamnit, that’s disappointing. I’d have settled for three feet and no sidepath requirement. But that’s just me being me again. Good on Jennifer for urging the veto.
Well I swilled me some Guinness, tucked into a corned beef samich and wore a green jacket to go pick up the victuals. So I did my part for St. Paddy’s Day. Snowing (again) so bikes will remain holstered. But once a nap is achieved there could be a session on the (shudder) wind trainer.
They used to have a huge Celtic deal on weekends at KRCC in Bibleburg, and Fiona Ritchie’s “Thistle and Shamrock” was part of it.
For some reason I decided that it would be amusing to do a imitation of her that sounded like Monty Python’s Pepperpots (“Death of Mary Queen of Scots,” etc) but in an hideous Irish accent.
“O, ’tis Fiona Feckin’ Ritchie comin’ at ye wi’ th’ ‘T’istle an’ Shamrock,’ ye feckers,” etc.
Well, I found it amusing, anyway. Idle hands are truly the devil’s playground. And so are idle vocal cords.
Hmm, the Ides of March have come and gone and my wish for Fat Nixon to end up like that other dictator didn’t happen. So IMPEACH the Mofo already! Tuesday night I’m outta here!
Mad Blog Media 
Have a great Ethnic Celebration!
Hard to pick my favorite totally authentic and traditional holiday. Erin Go Bud? Cinco de Miller?
Paul sure makes some nice bits and pieces. Happy St. Paddy’s day to yous gals and guys.
They do indeed. I wish SwissStop still made those pads. I should’ve bought a bushel of ’em.
New Mexico cyclists, bend over, ‘cuz here it comes again. HB 192, the five foot passing bill, was amended at the last minute to include a sidepath bicycling requirement.
https://labikes.blogspot.com/2019/03/beware-of-what-you-wish-for-you-might.html
Well, goddamnit, that’s disappointing. I’d have settled for three feet and no sidepath requirement. But that’s just me being me again. Good on Jennifer for urging the veto.
Well I swilled me some Guinness, tucked into a corned beef samich and wore a green jacket to go pick up the victuals. So I did my part for St. Paddy’s Day. Snowing (again) so bikes will remain holstered. But once a nap is achieved there could be a session on the (shudder) wind trainer.
Good man y’self. I’ve been listening to Planxty and The Chieftains, and will brew up a tureen of green chile stew here directly.
St. Patrick was actually Quetzalcoatl, y’know. That’s why he ran all the snakes out of Ireland. The Feathered Serpent didn’t want any competition.
I heard his other two miracles were card tricks.
And the first was convincing Holy Mother Church (and the rest of us, bedad!) that he was Irish.
I’d pay a dollar to see him banish a 6 foot western diamondback.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all. Listening to The Thistle and Shamrock radio program (thistleradio.com Fiona Ritchie’s site) on my local NPR station.
They used to have a huge Celtic deal on weekends at KRCC in Bibleburg, and Fiona Ritchie’s “Thistle and Shamrock” was part of it.
For some reason I decided that it would be amusing to do a imitation of her that sounded like Monty Python’s Pepperpots (“Death of Mary Queen of Scots,” etc) but in an hideous Irish accent.
“O, ’tis Fiona Feckin’ Ritchie comin’ at ye wi’ th’ ‘T’istle an’ Shamrock,’ ye feckers,” etc.
Well, I found it amusing, anyway. Idle hands are truly the devil’s playground. And so are idle vocal cords.
Well, we made a lasagna. One whole layer is green.
Our Irish pot luck dinner and party is over. I am at home. So…
Well, yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day. Today woulda been my mom’s 93rd birthday. We will celebrate with a second round of the lasagna and a chianti.
Hmm, the Ides of March have come and gone and my wish for Fat Nixon to end up like that other dictator didn’t happen. So IMPEACH the Mofo already! Tuesday night I’m outta here!