Category: Things that suck

We’re No. 1! We’re No. 1!

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 25 Comments

We’re … screwed.

Nearly 19 percent of the workforce here in Bibleburg, which famously despises the big, bad feddle gummint, gets a paycheck from same, according to The Washington Post in partnership with the Brookings Institution.

Imagine that.

Now, whom do you suppose Bibleburg will blame for the hardship wrought upon these 55,000 big-gummint employees by the feddle shutdown?

I’ll give you a hint. Half black, socialist, crypto-Mooslim, Kenyan, tyrant … ring any bells?

A river runs through it

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments
Some of the damage done by last month's floods.
Some of the damage done by last month’s floods.

Check out the South Greenway Trail, or what remains of it, down by Circle Drive and Janitell Road.

This is part of the estimated $6.5 million in damage to area parks and trails from September’s flooding. And anyone who thinks they’re gonna get fixed soon has been smoking too much of the fabled wacky terbacky. So-called “friends” groups — to wit, volunteers — are doing a lot of the work while the evil ol’ gummint concentrates on socialism and whatnot.

Of course, with the feddle gummint sending everyone home while the Baboon Caucus redecorates the Capitol in an odiferous brown hue, we may soon have more volunteers than you can shake a shovel at.

Interbike 2013: Leaving Las Vegas

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments
As has become traditional in these outings, a storm chased me out of town, finally catching me in Santa Fe.
As has become traditional in these outings, a storm chased me out of town, finally catching me in Santa Fe.

BIBLEBURG, Colo. (MDM) — After all these years you’d think I would know better than to try to blog from Sin City. I should just post a “Closed Until Further Notice” sign and save us all the aggravation.

I attend Interbike for three primary reasons: First, to gather salable intelligence for my various employers; second, to reassure said employers in our one get-together per annum that, despite all published evidence to the contrary, I am not a rabid dog hellbent on biting the hand that feeds me; and third, to reassure the reading audience that I am a rabid dog hellbent on biting the hand that feeds me and somehow getting away with it. Which I am, of course. (Don’t tell my employers.)

It’s quite a tightrope to walk for an antisocial old drunkard who has trouble navigating a wide sidewalk after happy hour. And it’s particularly sketchy when I’m bunking in a casino hotel with all the ambience of a Donna Summer retrospective in Hell. Never again. It was a 20-minute walk from my room to the show and I never left the building.

When I finally hit the door running I was very tired of the sound of my own voice and desperate for a smoke-free environment, proper music and the open road.

As I battled traffic on Flamingo a roadside political scientist announced via hand-lettered poster that Jewish communists control the media. He never met the crowd I work for; a variety of faiths, creeds and religions, but capitalists one and all. Racing the commuters through Henderson I saw a disintegrating paceline fighting a massive headwind on a gradual climb. Glancing at the dash I noticed it was 96 degrees outside. Who’s crazy here? I wondered.

Me, of course.

Editor’s note: Coming up — a few bikes from Interbike 2013 that an adventurous cyclist might find interesting.