Join Live Update Guy at the Giro d’Italia

Disclaimer from the legal department at Live Update Guy: Patrick O’Grady, senior executive junior assistant vice president for answering reader questions for free at LUG, attempted a tasteless “joke” about the Italian people during our most recent Live Update (previously recorded).

The elderly, self-described “humorist” managed to deliver the setup, but hyper-vigilant producer Turkish von Turkenstein saw to it that the punchline never aired, and going forward O’Grady has been warned to restrict his japes to the French.

The senior management at Live Update Guy would like to apologize to all Italians everywhere, particularly any Romans concerned with drainage, medicine, roads, housing, education, viniculture and any other Romans contributing to the welfare of LUG Nuts of both sexes and hermaphrodites. Thank you.

An .85 Magnum Opus

The Opus Legato and I on the way back to El Rancho Pendejo from the bosque.
The Opus Legato and Your Humble Narrator on the way back to El Rancho Pendejo from the bosque.

That was a long three weeks. Know how I can tell? Because I just absentmindedly hand-coded the italics for “That,” the way we have to while posting at Live Update Guy during the grand tours, the first of which finally skidded to a halt on Sunday.

Don’t gotta do that shit here, yo. Got buttons for that italics shit here.

Anyway, with the Giro d’Italia finally in the can, no deadlines of any sort barking at me like a double Hound of the Baskervilles, and Herself finally (!) done with road-tripping for a while, I enjoyed a nice quiet morning for a change, one in which I didn’t have to be funny and/or focused before breakfast. It’s a far cry from ditch-digging, but some days it’s definitely harder than it looks.

Around 10 I got out for a spin on the Opus Legato, one of three review bikes on deck for Adventure Cyclist. It started out as a fairly standard out-and-back but at some point mutated into a “let’s see where this road goes” kind of ride. I found a scenic new alternative to 4th Street (Guadalupe Trail) when heading down Tramway with the bosque in mind, and on the way home checked out a couple of bike routes that were new to me.

By this time it was noonish and in the mid-80s, which added a degree of difficulty to the climb back up to El Rancho Pendejo. And then I remembered we have air conditioning. So, yeah, bonus. Now I seem to be hungry for some reason, so I’m gonna whip up a mess of Rick Bayless’s tacos de chorizo con salsa de aguacate.

Seems the recipe is no longer on his website, but there are plenty of others. Pick one and use it to take the taste of a Lindsey Graham presidential campaign out of your mouth.

Voodoo child

The old Voodoo Wazoo will be my daily driver for the foreseeable future. Toward that end it got a couple upgrades, including slimed tubes, Jandd Grocery Panniers and Egg Beater pedals.
The old Voodoo Wazoo will be my daily driver for the foreseeable future. Toward that end it got a couple upgrades, including slimed tubes, Jandd Grocery Panniers and Egg Beater pedals.

Damn, what a week. Another Bicycle Retailer deadline, the Giro every morning, and an abrupt and unwelcome thinning of the vehicular herd in the garage.

No, we didn’t lose any bicycles. That would be unbearable. But we did say sayonara to Herself’s 2002 Subaru Outback, which has been donated to KUNM-FM after the wizards at Reincarnation said that just about everything between the bumpers was completely fucked.

What began as a timing-belt replacement quickly blossomed into your basic nightmare, in which one repair leads to another: head gasket, clutch, tranny, front rotors, struts front and rear, wheel bearings, tires all around aaaaaaahhhh Jesus make it stop!

When the discussion starts with, “How much does your wife love this car?” you know it’s going to end badly. So, yeah. Off it went. Some cars you’re only gonna get 205,000 miles out of. We was robbed.

Happily, as Master Yoda said, “There is another.” My ’05 Forester. Guess who’s driving that now?

Right you are.

And my vehicle? That’s pictured up top.

• Editor’s note: What are you mutts using for motor vehicles these days? Subarus and Toyotas have been pretty good to us over the years, but we’re always willing to entertain other possibilities. Please to keep in mind that we’re (a) cheap, and (2) have nothing to use as a trade-in.

Live, from San Lorenzo al Mare, it’s Saturday morning!

Pretty in pink? Well, not so much.
Pretty in pink? Well, not so much.

Didja miss Live Update Guy’s coverage of Paris-Roubaix? Of course you didn’t.

So, naturally, you’ll want to follow along as Charles Pelkey, the Old Guy Who Gets Fat In Winter, the Man On the Scene (MOTS), an otherwise-idle Irish-American ne’er-do-well and the rest of the LUG Nuts Repertory Theatre and Monty Python Appreciation Society call the Giro d’Italia live, as it happens, starting with tomorrow’s team time trial.

In addition to the usual ploddingly tedious race coverage your servers will pile your plate to the rafters with plenty of the old Non-Race-Related-Blah-Blah-Blah®, topped with a nice marinara and maybe a little grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. Mangia, mangia, eat up awready. You look skinny.

Hail with a side salad

Our maple isn't quite down to its last leaf, but there's plenty of bald patches up there and more storms in the forecast.
Our maple isn’t quite down to its last leaf, but there’s plenty of bald patches up there and more storms in the forecast.

Herself and I spent some quality time together this morning, cleaning up the wreckage from yesterday’s blitzkrieg hailstorm.

I had to get up on the roof to broom off some of the detached greenery (and clear the gutters while I was at it). And then we set about collecting the stuff on the ground. This was about the time I decided that owning two-fifths of the block was something of a giant pain in the ass, or more specifically, the lower back.

We filled one of those big rolling trash bins and another smaller can with salad and sticks before saying the hell with it and going back indoors for lunch, after which we lost interest more or less permanently, especially since it looks like another storm may be blowing in here directly.

In other news, poor Cuddles lost his pretty pink shirt in the Giro. He has one flat stage for liver-gnawing purposes, tomorrow, before the ground tilts upward and the shit gets serious. Should be fun to watch. Rigoberto Uran Ran Ran Ran Da Doo Ran Ran looked tougher ‘n’ whang leather out there today, and taking time back from him will be like trying to steal stupid from Louie Gohmert.