Green Eyed Monster Sex

Hey gang, I'm still alive. And Frank Dux and Chong Li are stoked to see me.



So what's been going on? Well, I finished one screenplay. It was about a teacher who falls for another teacher. I know, it's a stretch for me to write about a teacher. Anyway, after what seemed like a good romance, the protagonist did not get the girl. Once again, a huge stretch for me to write.

However, it turned out that screenplay sucked. Not much character development, and no good hook. Well, sometimes you have to be willing to drown your own baby, so I scrapped that project.

Now I'm working on a new screenplay. I'm about halfway done with the first draft, but finding the time and the impetus to write has been a bit hard. Hopefully once I'm done with the brats, I'll finish it.

So that's what has been occupying a bunch of my time. But life goes on...

Last week was a three day weekend. I was so hoping to have fun with everyone I know. Yet Murphy, or karma, saw fit to bring me down.

Friday: The House Monger called. "Let's get our groove on," she said. I have no idea what it is with dancing, but women insist on forcing men to make fools of themselves. I think it's a power trip. It's a power trip because I keep asking to be taught, but no one will teach me. They rather I jump in without any training for their amusement.

Didn't matter though. She never called back.

Then GSXGrrrl called to see what my plans were. Then she said she would call back.

She never called back.

Tattoo Girl was also busy. Fuck me. Life sucked.

Yay for video games though.

Saturday started as mundane as shit too. I changed the oil on my motorcycle, and cleaned and lubed the chain. Then I took a spin up the mountain. I wasn't feeling it, so I went back home. That's when GSXGrrrl remembered to call me.

We grabbed a pizza, the main food of the unintelligentsia, picked up L, then headed to Suzuki for an oil filter. After that we hit the Walmart like we were rednecks. On the way back home, we decided to take the bikes out for a ride.

Which brings me to the point of this post. L bought a new bike.



No, I'm not jealous at all. Why should I be? I mean, I'm riding a 5 year old econo-sportbike. I wouldn't desire a brand new top of the line 600, right?

I think I look better on this bike.



Yup, yup.

Now for the sex thing. They say, on average, intercourse takes 3 to 13 minutes. I had intercourse with the ground in 5. I had to ride my mountain bike perpendicular to a steeply sloped section of trail. My bike slid down the slope. I followed it.



I think my seat nailed me on the bottom of my right butt cheek. Feels like a bruise. Funny thing is that if it hit 3 inches to the left, I would have had intercourse with the bike too.

I Should Not Be Allowed Near Women

Been a while since I wrote something. I actually had a busy October, but I promised not to write about it. So you guys will have to be satisfied with November. For November, I seem to be having weird interactions with women.

This is what happened when the Band Teacher and I went out to lunch one day:

We were seated and a nice caucasian waitress came over to take our order. After she left, I said, "she looks like she works out."

When the waitress came back with our drinks, I asked if she works out.

"I surf and swim a lot. I haven't been to a gym since I moved here though. But I love the beaches around here. I'm from San Diego, but the ocean around here is just so much better. Is it my large shoulders? Back in school, the guys used to ask me to flex. Do they look weird?"

"Not at all. In fact, I think you look very attractive."

After she thanked me, she went back to work. I talked to the BT about body language and how it's fun to see all these couples here and try to figure out what's going on. Then I said that if someone was watching us, they would be wondering what the hell was going on. I was looking at every single attractive female in the place while my "girl" took it casually. The BT said that if they paid attention to her body language, they should know we weren't a couple. I told her she was wrong. Then I pointed out how the hostess wanted to seat us side by side.

I then noticed the waitress had her back to us while she fiddled with those computerized drink terminal thingies. She had nicely shaped legs, but the BT refused to look when I told her to.

When the waitress came over with our food, I spoke again.

"I never got your name."

"Oops. I'm sorry. It's C*****. We're supposed to introduce ourselves when we first greet the customers. . . [she spoke too fast at this point]."

Lunch took some time to finish. I had a really big cheese burger and the BT had a fish taco. I told her to be ready because I was going to make a fool of myself. C***** came back with our bill.

"Hey C*****, what do you think of this? I'm a 35 year old teacher. I love mountain biking and riding motorcycles. Any of that sound interesting?"

"Yeah! I love motorcycles."

"How about movies? You interested in movies?"

"Oh, I do love going to the movies, but I have a boyfriend."

"Might not be a good idea then."

"Yeah. But um, aren't you with, um. . . your wife. . . girlfriend?"

The BT piped up, "oh no. I'm just the sister he never knew he had nor wanted."

"Oh, you two are just friends," C***** asked.

I replied, "yup. But the funny thing is we were just talking about how people would mistake us for a couple."

C***** finished with, "you know what? Thanks. You really made my day."

"No problem. In fact, I really enjoyed looking at you." [wtf was I saying? I need to stop drinking beer during lunch.]

Later that day, on my bike ride:

There's this one female security guard for the hotel where we ride our bikes. I saw she was working today, so I was determined to talk to her before I left.

I pulled up to the guard booth, and she waved. I stopped, took off my sunglasses, and said, "you know, I see you here often, but I've never introduced myself. My name is Squiggy."

She stood up and came closer to shake my hand. "My name is C*****."

"Hi C*****. So how does a girl like you become a security guard?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure myself. I keep trying to tell them to hire more women so I'm not the only one."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure how you'll take this. I was going to say that you were the most attractive security guard around here, but since you're the only female one. . ."

C***** smiles.

"Well, I guess I should let you get back to work. It does look rather boring though sitting here all night. Maybe I should sneak in some beers?"

"I'm allergic to beer."

I look stunned.

"So what do you do when you go out?"

"I hardly go out anymore. I usually stay home. When I did go out drinking, I would drink hards."

"You usually stay home? How old are you?"

"21"

"Twenty one??? And you don't go out drinking?"

"I used to drink a lot in high school," C***** smiles.

"Ah, I got it. It's no fun now that you're legal, huh. Well maybe I can take you out for drinks one night. I'll see you around."

"Yup. You will since you've seen me often before."

She later declined my offer a couple days later to get drunk.

This happened during the work week:

Girl Student: Mr. Squiggy, Miss [cute Science Teacher] told me to ask you something.

Me: Um, kay. . .

Girl: I'll tell you after class. (40 minutes later) Miss Science Teacher told me to tell you to buy a ticket to my hula performance.

Me: Huh? Why?

Girl: She bought one, but she doesn't want to go alone.

Me: So she told you to ask me?

Girl: Yeah.

Me: Um, kay. . . how much is a ticket?

Girl: $20 for the dinner too.

Me: Twenty bucks???

Girl: Yeah. Miss Science Teacher bought the $20 one.

Me: Great. OK. Meet me during lunch. I'll go get my money.

Email to Science Teacher: You're going to drive for this.


After mountain biking:

In the afternoon, while we were loading up our bikes, a rental car pulled up to the lookout. Out popped some old fogie and a tall, attractive blonde. We made some small talk about things to see around there. She, her mom I guess, her grandpa, and a hot sister were out for the day touring. They came on a cruise ship. The tall blonde looked good, and she was doing stretches in front of me, but I couldn't bring myself to flirt with her. I guess I R-tard.

After jogging that afternoon with a girl:

The girl adjusted her sanitary napkin in front of me. I also matter-of-factly pointed out her nipples were showing. To which she replied that it's natural since she was wearing a sports bra and she was active. Then she started to poke at her nipple while I watched.

"Um, let's get going before something else besides your nipples gets hard."

The BT and I went to a bar:

There was another attractive waitress, go figure. However, she was dressed differently from the other waitresses. Of course, me being me, I had to ask. She explain that she worked behind the bar, and was also a food runner. She also explained that her uniform matched the guys, but of course, the one she wore was a more feminine style. I agree.

While the BT was settling the tab, I kept watching that attractive waitress. She was stocking some drinks behind the bar, and whenever she bent over, her top would lift a little and expose her lower back. I thought it looked great. No muffin top, no tramp stamp, no blemishes. Nothing but smooth skin. (The BT later asked how I was able to determine that in the poorly lit conditions. I hate her for ruining my dreams.) I decided I had to say something to the attractive brunette.

I took my chance when she walked past me. "Excuse me." She stopped. I reached out my hand, and she put hers into mine. I got to look at her close up for the first time that night. She was very pretty. However, several hours of mountain biking, including a crash, a 2 mile walk/jog, a couple of hours wrenching on a motorcycle, and alcohol, all conspired to give me the equivalent of a first grade reading level.

"Yes," she asked as I held her hand.

"You remind me of a Gilmore Girl." DOH!

To the old saleslady in a jewelry store:

"Can I get a fiance to go with this wedding band?"

In Macy's when a 5'8" blonde walked past me:

"Careful sir," warned a saleslady.

"Thud," said my foot as a kicked a shoe display really hard.

"Sorry. I was just looking at the pretty tall girl."

In a different store, helping my friend find a gift for his girlfriend:

Friend and I: Hi H****. (She was a friend's wife)

Me: Hey H****. If you were a girl. . .

Friend: What do you mean, "if?"

Me continuing unabated: What would you do if you got a stuffed animal as a gift? You'd probably just put it on a shelf or something, right?

H****: Yeah, probably.

Me: But what if someone special gave you a cute blanket. Or maybe a cute pillow. Wouldn't you love to get that?

H****: Oh yes!

(I threw in that last one more for discussion. Would women prefer something like a blanket or pillow to a stuffed animal?)

Mountain Biking Rat

Riley and I had about two and a half hours to kill on the mountain so we decided to make yet another mtb video. God knows my mtb videos are sooooo popular. They get literally hundred of hits on youtube. (sarcasm)



I bet if I got video of those girls in boyshorts that we saw earlier, the hits would go through the roof.

Hyper-Perverted-Paranoid-Stalker

How was your weekend? I had a hillbilly ho-down of a weekend myself.



My friends, Riley and Lornette, and my classmate, Sherri, and I got together on Friday night for a pizza dinner. I guess eating one of the most fattiest foods around (and most delicious) is a good idea when three people are dieting. The pizzeria of choice? Brick Oven. mmmmmmm. I can feel my gravity increasing, but it tastes sooo good.



I was hoping to reconnect ties to those I knew in my younger years. I'm realizing that I lost contact with those I grew up with. The only one I've keep in close contact with lives a couple of blocks away from me, and tends to scratch his private parts in public places.

So I was hoping to have a fun night with Sherri. But isn't life funny? Earlier that day I had an incident with a student. I pretty much screwed up, and it put me in a downer mood the whole weekend. So instead of the happy-go-lucky Biker Teacher-type character, I think I turned out to be something more akin to an undertaker. Sherri, on the other hand, is still rather attractive and full of energy. Seems like she burns the candle at both ends, but she does this by choice. Mistress of her own destiny and all that.



(yeah, I'm going to catch hell for that pic)

Boy did I screw up though. I sometimes type my name in Yahoo and see what kind of webpages come up. Apparently I'm some kind of stage actor or play director or something. Just for kicks, I typed in Sherri's name to see what came up. (No, I was not looking for nude pictures... yet) A photographer website popped up. There were some black and white scenery pictures accredited to Sherri. Unfortunately, when I tried to ask her about this, I came off as a pervert stalker. Sigh. Pervert, I can live with. Stalker? Ack!

At that point, I decided the best course of action was to just shut up and drink a beer.



And another.

The next day I got to ride my Marin on the Kokee trails. It was the official test of my new frame. I must say that I am pleased with the purchase. The bike handles much better than the old X6. However, I'm still sketchy on the Cable section- a steep, slippery, downhill.



Our normal mtb rides consist of two 4 mile downhill runs. Although it's downhill, the Kokee trails are very difficult, and also includes a few tough, big climbs. It's not a trail for the weak. Screw up and you can go falling down a cliff. The trail also starts at 2500 feet elevation.



For the last few months, I've been the only one to ride the rough sections on both runs. The other guys use the paved road to bypass the difficult uphill sections. I, on the other hand, seem to be a glutton for punishment.

Or is it because they're avoiding me? Great. Perverted-Paranoid-Stalker. It keeps getting better.

Mundane Adventure

Date: May 5, 2007
Soundtrack: Queen - Bicycle Race

Don't need to watch the video. Just listen to the music to set the mood.



I'd decided to get a new bike. My Haro X6 was an ok bike to begin with, but as I gained experience riding, I learned that it was not the bike I needed. You see, the X6's geometry matches other brands' XC bikes. XC bikes have aggressive head angles and short wheelbases to encourage quick turns. They usually have about 4" of suspension travel, and most people use them on smoother trails or dirt roads. However, Waimea Canyon trails are a lot more difficult than a dirt road. I always felt my bike was a bit unstable on the tough stuff.



Ouch. Actually, I only scraped my elbows. I was more embarrassed than hurt.

Riley, Kyle, and Will use freeride/downhill bikes. Their bikes have 7+" of suspension travel to soak up large hits. They also have long wheelbases and slack head angles for stability on the downhill slopes. I've ridden their bikes, and I could notice the stability right away.

But I still crash. But that's not the point.

Kyle's bike felt battleship-stable on the downhills, but turned a little too slow for me. I had to slow down a lot on the fast singletrack sections of the trail. I also crashed his bike by riding way over my head. I ended up unconscious while my so-called friends took pictures.

Riley's bike also felt great. But even with his $1200 downhill fork, I struggled to turn. I went wide on a few turns on the fast sections of the trail. Now my crash on Riley's bike was a freak accident. A branch got stuck in the spokes. I'll show you the mark on my ribs from the pungee sticks if you ask.

I decided I needed a true All-Mountain bike.



Alas, we teachers don't make much money. So instead of getting a complete bike that would cost $2000, I bought a frame for $500. Since I already had upgraded parts on the Haro, I could transfer those parts to the new frame and get good performance.



This is the Marin Rock Springs. It's a 6" travel frame designed to handle rougher trails than the X6. This picture was taken right when the frame arrived. Riley couldn't wait to touch things. If you ever take him for a ride in your car, he will touch every single control he can get his hands on. I'm not sure if it's ADHD or OCD.



Now because Riley makes $60-80k a year doing nothing but complaining, tuning bikes, and building ladder bridges, my bike was 90% complete in 2 hours. He likes to say that he's the hardest working guy around, but if that was true, my bike would still be in pieces.



And here it is. Almost totally complete. Only one part could not transfer from the X6 to the Marin.



The front derailleur. This is the part that moves the chain across the different front sprockets.

So off we went to Bicycle Johns.



It was Saturday. Riley is at the drag races, and I'm getting over a cold. So instead of riding, Kyle, Satoshi, and I went to the local bike shop to get the cables needed to finish my bike. (We didn't get the derailleur yet. Didn't figure it out until later.) Satoshi must have been hating life since my car is a no smoking zone. I quit smoking several years back. Yay me. I've taken up being an asshole instead. Trade one nasty habit for another, I say.

After picking up the parts we needed, Satoshi suggested we get some lunch.



I wanted to go inside to order, but Kyle insisted we go through the drive thru. Great idea. Let's make someone who is coughing and sounds like a frog order through a crap microphone.



Things went bad from the start. The car in front of me was a generic-too-big-to-be-useful-diesel-gigantosaurus-mobile-penis. I couldn't move far enough forward to get right to the mic. I had to project my feeble voice like the fat lady in the opera.

Me: What do you guys want?

Them: Don't know.

KFC: Hellow, welkum two kay ef see. Can eye take yor ordur plees?

Me: So what do you guys want?

Them: Don't know yet.

KFC: Can eye take yor ordur plees?

Me: Um.

Satoshi: Ask if they have that bowl stuff.

Me: Do you guys have that bowl stuff?

KFC: Dee kay ef see bole. Yes.

Me: OK, can I get one of those?

KFC: Wood yoo lik dee meel?

Me: OK.

KFC: Wat kine ov dreenk?

Satoshi: Diet Coke.

Me: Diet Coke.

KFC: No more die et koke. Die et pepschi?

Me: OK. Kyle, what do you want?

Kyle: Get me a 10 piece hot wings.

Me: There's no 10 piece. Only 6 or 18.

Kyle: Six.

Satoshi: Get me six too.

Me: Can we also get 2... 3... 18 pieces of hot wings?

KFC: No more dee hot weengs. Eets a ten meenut weight.

Kyle: Ah, just get the bowl.

Me: OK, make that three bowls altogether.

Satoshi: And two snackers.

Me: And two Snackers.

KFC: Tank yoo four yor ordur. Plees dribe fourward.

(I drive to the next window)

KFC: asdhjaksh tyhe dkiea dreenk?

Me: What?

KFC: asdhjaksh tyhe dkiea dreenk?

Kyle: Diet Pepsi.

Me: Diet Pepsi.

I hate drive thrus.

So we get to Kyle's workplace and eat. I get to see my bike for the first time. It looks really cool in person. Kyle routed the cables and removed the front derailleur so that the bike was usable. I rode that sucker around with an ear to ear grin. It feels more stable and plush than the X6. The front wheel feels slightly farther in front, which should add some confidence on the steep downhills. While the bike feel more stable, it still turns quick. The suspension even works like the magazine reviews said. It rolls over bumps without kicking you up. Of course this is just a test ride in an industrial zone. I can't wait to try it out on the trails. The amazing thing is that even though the suspension is plush enough for a smooth ride, there is no pedal bob. I'm hoping I will be able to tackle the steep hills without having to push the bike.

Bicycle Built for One

It was Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday was the day of the week Biker Teacher rode his mountain bike with Rat and Big Brother. They rode a seven mile road loop that passed behind a hotel and an airport. This is how they exercised and socialized amongst themselves.

It started off like any other day. Biker Teacher stretched before the ride. Big Brother and Rat chose not to. Biker Teacher suspected that they were too homophobic to bend at the waist to touch their toes. Once properly stretched, the trio geared up for the ride. Rat always wore a full-face motorcross helmet. It made him look like the hooligan he was. Biker Teacher and Big Brother wore their cyclist helmets that made their heads appear like larger versions of their smaller heads. With their melons properly encased in impact absorbing form, they set off on the ride.

Bicycle riding is a very good form of cardiovascular exercise. The constant effort on your large muscle groups is good for fat-burning and a stronger heart. The addition of gossiping, bullshitting, and one-up-manship doubles the effectiveness of the exercise.

"You guys coming out to the drag races this month?" asked Rat.

"Is the blonde going to be there?" asked Biker Teacher.

"Probably not. I'm over her," was the reply.

"Um, you had one date," Big Brother pointed out.

"Yeah. But she had her chance."

And they all laughed.

Most of their conversations went like that. They loved to kid each other about their non-existent love lives. Either that, or they tried to convince each other that perhaps an alternative lifestyle would be more to their liking.

"You're gay."

"No. YOU gay."

"Nah. YOU gay," ad nauseam.

Every now and then they would get lucky and cross paths with a well toned female jogger. Pure serendipity. Which is why whenever they passed one, they would immediately hush and ride while looking straight ahead for fear of getting caught looking.

It just so happened that on this particular Wednesday, they spotted a very firm XX chromosome on the road. As they approached from the rear, they noticed her rear. It was one that you could literally bounce quarters off of. Lycra running shorts, normally unkind, was very flattering on this wonderfully shaped woman. The trio rode past in their normal silent running mode. Big Brother was lucky enough to glance back at just the right moment. He got to watch Jogger Lady tend to her desert-beast-of-burden-foot-appendage. The trio looked at each other. Upraised thumbs were shown with nods of approval. Then the ride continued.

Biker Teacher had been debating on buying a new mountain bike. His current bike, a Haro X6, was a good entry bike, but now that he had more experience, he needed something that matched his riding style. Biker Teacher preferred to ride with the wheels on the ground. The Haro X6 preferred to ride with Biker Teacher on the ground.

"Maybe I could just get a frame and throw all these parts on it," said Biker Teacher.

"Well, you already got a good fork and new Saint cranks," said Big Brother, "in fact, the cranks came in a really nice box too."

"What about Girl-Friend's box?" asked Rat.

They all laughed.

Rat continued, "you know what though? I'm over women."

"Until the next one calls you, right?" asked Biker Teacher.

"Right. Because I'll just keep going back for more," Rat replied. And they rode on.

There is an old, abandoned shopping mall along the bike route. It was originally filled with classy stores with exorbitant prices designed to entice foreigners to open their wallets. That was before an act of God wrecked the place. Now it's a little freeride playground for Rat. Biker Teacher and Big Brother stopped at the mall to take a break while Rat played. Jogger Lady caught up and ran past.

"I remember who she is. She's your classmate's older sister," Big Brother said to Biker Teacher.

"No shit?" Biker Teacher rode off to catch Jogger Lady. Once he caught up to her he called out.

"Hey. You remember me? I'm Chad's classmate."

"Oh hey. Yeah, I do remember you. How you doing?" Jogger Lady asked while still running.

Biker Teacher kept pace. "I'm fine. From the looks of things, you're real fine too."

Jogger Lady smiled. She seemed happy hearing the compliment.

"I haven't seen you before. You jog here regularly?" queried Biker Teacher.

"I used to jog around the stadium, but this route is more interesting."

"Sweet. You know, this is odd. I'm the type of guy who can approach and talk to ugly chicks, but I get tongue tied around beautiful women," he said.

"And?" she asked.

"And? Nothing really. Just stating a simple fact that I seem to be able to approach and talk to you," he replied.

"I see." The happiness had left her.

"I'm glad you're jogging. It's great. I thought I was looking at a 25 year old. It wasn't until I saw your face that I realized you were 39," said Biker Teacher.

"I'm 36, ass," mutter Jogger Lady.

"Yeah, that's right. You were always older than me."

Jogger Lady stopped. "You know what? I'm going to stop talking now and continue running. You don't have to follow me. Have a nice life." And she ran off without delay.

Biker Teacher stood there feeling dejected for a minute. Then he shrugged and rode back to the mall. Big Brother and Rat were waiting for him.

"So, did she touch your penis?" Rat had been quoting Harold and Kumar that week.

"Man, I am so over her," announced Biker Teacher.

"Until she calls," said Big Brother.

"Yeah, because I just keep going back for more," said Biker Teacher.

More Than the Ego

I swear, I must be one of the clumsiest mountain bike riders ever. Besides the numerous scratches and bruises, I've also managed to knock myself unconscious and got myself a trip to the ER. And this weekend I got to add yet another injury to the list.

It all started on Friday. Riley called me and asked if I could bring a truck over to pick up my bike. He normally transports our bikes himself since they're stored at his workplace. This time though, his friend was supposed to come with us on Saturday, which meant he needed to transport an extra bike.

His friend didn't show on Saturday. He showed up at my house with both of his Gary Fisher Kingfisher 2 freeride/downhill bikes. He told me to leave my Haro X6 at home and to ride one of his bikes.



The Kingfisher 2 has a suggested retail of over $2000. The one he let me ride had a $1300 Fox 40R fork on it.



Now Riley is a bit... um... tight. And anal. While the words "tight" and "anal" would have me giggling like a school girl, I was a bit apprehensive. I am known for crashing on the trails, and the thought of crashing this expensive bike had me worried. If I put a scratch on the bike, I wouldn't hear the end of it.

Luckily, most of the day went well. Even this one particular section that causes me grief was easily handled with the freeride bike. Things felt good.

Then on our second run of the day it happened. I crashed. I was following the same path as normal and did nothing out of the ordinary. I did not lock up the brakes. In fact, I had both hands off the brake levers. The front wheel did not lock up in a rut, nor did it wash out. The wheels did not lose traction and slide out. It just felt like something grabbed the back wheel and pulled the bike out from under me.

So the bike stopped forward momentum, while my body continued on. I know the bike stopped because when I got up, it was right where I left it. I don't think it suffered any damage since Riley did not call me. He wouldn't miss a new ding.

My body didn't fare so well.



As I felt the body leaving the bike, I swore to myself, then looked at my landing zone. I was going to land on some left over stumps from some cut down shrubs. The stumps looked like pungee sticks. I thought, "this is going to rip me open." Fortunately it didn't.

I got up and dusted myself off. I stuck a gloved hand under my jersey to check for blood. There was none, so I turned to see what caused my fall. The only thing different on the trail from before was a couple of three foot long, freshly cut branches. They were laying next to the rear tire of the bike. My best guess is that I may have gotten those branches stuck in the wheels.

Later that night I realized the injury was a lot larger. I added in the parts that you couldn't see in the picture.



To add insult to injury, my brother and I headed into town to return our bikes. We stopped by Borders Books to pick up some magazines.

Remember that pretty girl with the piercings? She was there again.



Yup yup. Macho Nonwheezer could only manage to watch her work and couldn't work up the courage to talk to her. Rawr! I'm a kitten in a lion's world.

Back in the Saddle

Where have I been? Welp, for a month, I haven't been riding my mountain bike in Waimea Canyon. Today was my first day in a month. It felt sketchy at first since I've knocked myself unconscious and ripped a chunk out of my chin, but in the end, it was a good exercise day.

I already showed the main features of our downhill rides in previous videos, so no point in showing them again. However, today we came across a newly built section of trail.

Here's a link to Riley's blog. I was the camera man.

MTB

Zero MPH Crash

How can someone have an ER inducing crash at zero miles per hour? Easy. If they have the walrus-like dexterity of Nonwheezer, they can pull it off no problem.



Last Wednesday, I decided to continue using these pedals. They're called "clipless." It sounds like a misnomer, but if you knew the history behind this type of pedals, the name would make sense. The original forms had a "clip," that went over the foot. This ones remove the clip and replaces it with a special clamp. The clamp matches a bracket that is mounted to biking shoes. Once you are clamped in, your foot is stuck to the pedal.

The benefit of such a pedal set up is that you can use full power throughout the entire pedal-stroke. With regular platform pedals, you can only push down. With the clipless, you can also pull up. This adds to your pedalling efficiency.

The downside is that if you're not careful, you can fall with your feet locked into the pedals. That's what happened to me. I had a minor knee-scraping fall in the parking lot before our ride. Unfortunately, my handlebar hit the ground, and my chin hit the handlebar. When I picked myself up, my friend noticed I was injured. I felt nothing except the blood dripping off my chin.



So off to the ER we went. Another ride cut short by my mad skillz.

Nurse: Wow! How did you manage to do that?

Nonwheezer: Um... sheer stupidity?

Nurse: Yeah, that will get you all the time.

Both the nurse and the doctor were very pretty blonde women.

I was in the ER for about 2 and a half hours. There were other emergencies, so my injury had to wait. It was ok though. I think I fell asleep. I know I felt surprisingly refreshed by the time the doctor started to stitch me up.



It turns out that my injury was a bit more complicated than a deep laceration. The end of the handlebar actually gouged out a bit of flesh. The doctor tried her best, but all she could do was sew up the edges to help close the wound a bit. It couldn't be sewn completely.

Nonwheezer: ...

Doc: You were going to say something? (with needle and suture in hand)

Nonwheezer: Yeah. I now have an embroidered chin. hehe.



I finally got out and headed home. I hadn't stopped bleeding since the crash, so I was concerned that bath time would be torture. But for some reason, my wound doesn't hurt. If it weren't for the tension of the sutures and bandaids, I would forget I have this injury.

Shaving was scary though. Fate played a stupid trick on me. For about 2 weeks I let my goatee grow. Now I had to spend a fair amount of time trying to remove as much facial hair as I could so my bandages would stick. I was afraid I would damage the sutures or reopen the wound, but I eventually completed the task ok.



And this is with me cleaned up and with part of the gash stitched.

Of course, Riley had to keep ragging me about the crash. He told everyone he knew about the ER visit. On and on he went.

But the Japanese believe in bachi. What goes around, comes around. Early Thursday morning, the abrasive Riley was goofing off while riding a MTB. He took a pedal to the shin. And that specific pedal had really long gripping pegs. He ended up with some nice holes in his leg.

Road to Recovery

It's Crash-Day +2. We got high wind warnings, so I'm staying off the motorcycle. It would be asking a bit much to ride with a hurt shoulder and bad weather. So I have nothing to do but play video games and watch YouTube.

These videos helped cheer me up. At least I'm not the only one who crashes.

Use a Condom, or Protection

Take it from Mozilla. Always use a condom. No wait. Make that, "always use protection." That should be less ambiguous for my two readers.

Today's secret word is: Protection.

As usual, I went mountain biking yesterday on the mountain. It's a great activity to help you keep fit and active, and to experience the great outdoors.



I pee on the trail too.

But mountain biking can be dangerous. You can wipe out on steep downhills. I've done it several times.



Or you could get your wheels stuck on some gnarly terrain. You can get up close and personal with the terrain you're riding on. I've done it before.



I took a really bad spill yesterday. I was going faster than I should have, on a section of trail I've never been on. Big mistake. The last thing I remember was my front wheel falling into a rut and me flying head-first toward the ground.



I think I actually went unconscious for a while. Notice that my being unconscious, and later being unable to get up, did not stop my so-called friend from taking time out to photograph the scene.

I woke up totally dazed with some memory loss and a jacked up shoulder.

The fun thing about suffering a memory-loss inducing head trauma is that the rest of the day feels brand new. Or better yet, the rest of my day felt like an old computer rpg. I was on a quest to figure out the events of the day. And just like those old rpgs, the npcs I talked to weren't very helpful and my chat interface sucked. I think I was babbling.

Nonwheezer: How did I fall?

Riley NPC: The Riley has nothing more to say.

Nonwheezer: How did I get down here?

Riley NPC: The Riley has nothing more to say.

Nonwheezer: Wow, you kind of suck.

Riley NPC: The Riley has nothing more to say.



Once I figured out that I indeed could not remember things, I decided I would use sheer brainpower to muscle through the problem. I figured since I was smarter than most, my brain kung-fu would come out victorious. It would be like using a Cray, or maybe NASA's supercomputer to balance a checkbook.



Turns out, it doesn't matter how big a computer you have. If the lights are out, you ain't figuring out shit. No matter how hard I tried, I still drew blanks.



Eventually, with time, most of my memories came back. However, there's still a thirty minute blank spot after the crash. Luckily my motor skills weren't damaged and I rode down the road to the lookout just fine. I just couldn't form any memories during that time. Weird yet cool.

At the lookout I was still in babble mode. I can remember bits and pieces here and there, but it felt like I was really drunk. I do remember this one nursing student friend who checked if I had a concussion.



When that memory came back, I was in awe. Honestly, I did not expect such skills from this student at this time. I figured she would need a couple more years of study to reach the level of nurse-fu I experienced. She greatly exceeded all expectations. I was ready to become her groupie. In my clouded head, she was one miracle shy of sainthood. I was really close to hero worship and I was already planning which of my students I would use for human sacrifices.



"Oh, I thought you were lying so I was just checking to see if you were bullshitting."

Hahaha! Reality hit me as hard as my head hit the trail. God, I must have really been out of it.

Right now it's about hour 22 of the 24 hour concussion watch. I haven't slept for more than three hours at a time, yet I feel alert and wide awake. My body hurts like hell though. I do need to thank Riley once again. He woke me up at 4:30 AM (farmers don't even wake this early) by sending me a pix message on my phone. I couldn't ignore it otherwise my phone would beep all night long.



Now I'm not sure what he was trying to say by sending me a pic of a Trek Session 7. I know he was trying to convince me to ditch my Haro X6 (with upgraded fork and brakes) and buy the Trek, but if he was trying to insinuate that a better bike would have prevented my fall, then he really needs to cut back on the pot. I was on a Session 77, and upgraded Session 7, when I fell.

Anyway, it's now the day after. My upper body hurts, and I probably can't ride my motorcycle even though it's a holiday weekend. On the bright side, I have an extra day to recover before having to face the evil spawns of Satan- my students.



Wear your helmet! Probably saved me from an ambulance ride to the hospital.

Truth in Advertising: Willy

This is going to be crude.

Today's topic for Truth in Advertising is a young man named Willy. It's an appropriate name. Willy has a big willy. He's a bull.



This is Willy. Quite the stud eh? He's a seventeen year old high school student, and one heck of a mountain bike rider.



You may have seen him co-starring in a short movie called Playground.



Now here's the thing. Willy got himself a big tool.



A hammer, if you will. And he uses it to nail, and pound, and hit anything with a vagina and two legs. And I think the girls can either sense it, or they can pick up his genitallic scent because they're rushing for a chance to ride his baloney pony.



I'm not kidding. Girls are literally throwing themselves at him. He's one of the few guys who can do the "smell my finger," routine and have three different punchlines at the same time.



It's lucky for Willy that Cosco opened a store on this island. He can now buy his condoms in bulk. It's also lucky for Malaysia since their GNP rose 8% just on the rubber sales.



If you watched the video, you'd notice that Willy rides with jeans. He has to. Three weeks ago he tried to ride without jeans and his donkey cock kept flapping in the breeze.



One silver-haired granny saw him ride past and remarked, "oh deary my! I haven't been this excited since Nimitz issued shore leave."



Calling Willy's willy a donkey cock may not be all too fair. A more apt description would be whale dork.



I'm serious. In fact, today he was following me on the downhill ride and I felt him tap me on the shoulder. When I looked back, he still had both hands on the handlebar. I never pedalled as desperately as I did today.

I also heard that Ron Jeremy is secretly paying Willy to not show his penis on any public media.



I know some of you reading this are thinking that I'm jealous. Truth be told, yes I am. Willy is such a selfish fuck! How the hell is a mild mannered micro-cock supposed to get any play when Willy's hogging all the chicks?



I'm seething. grrrr.

Even Riley is dumbfounded at the size differential.