Thread about N9thing: 99 pages of Naught on the Wall (Page 116)

Someone called my logs weak.

WTF? 

Someone called my logs weak.

WTF? 

WTF? 

Speaking of weak, there are some real azzhats out on the river trail. Last night, The Blonde and I were finishing up our ride, it was getting dusky dark - but still lots of people on the trail - and had turned our lights on so we wouldn't  have to stop on the way back to her house to turn them on.

Anyway, we're minding our own business, riding about 14mph, and this guy in a light blue kit - and it wasn't Discovery - no  helmet, just a cycling hat, comes  blasting by us, no "On your left" but instead is muttering "F*cking f*ggots... got their little light on and it isn't even dark yet."

He goes blowing by (not that fast, really), and I'm in front, and I say "Can I go GET him?" And she snorts, laughs and says "Go for it". So I stomp on the pedals, catch him fairly quickly, and as the guy looks like a football player gone to seed - say late 20s, early 30s, Van Dyke goatee, and he's at LEAST 30 - and probably closer to 50 pounds overweight, as I blow past him doing a little over 20 (he was maybe doing 18, which is not impressive), I say "Yeah, and you're at least 30 pounds overweight, dude).

Its almost time for us to turn off the path, I go up the hill onto the levee, just after I've heard this "ARRRRRGGHHHH!" from behind. The guy passes me, looking over his shoulder, throwing F bombs and calling me a f*ggot and saying "Come on! Come on!" I just shake my head at him and wait for the Blonde to catch up.

Too bad I don't have a frame pump. It would've been worth losing a $50 frame pump to do a Breaking Away on his spokes and watch him hit the pavement HARD.

Oh, speaking of things that are almost over, I've started a TAN #10 thread:

http://www.beginnertriathlete.com/discussion/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=92535&posts=1#M989656 

Well, The Blonde has been held up while working at a record store at gunpoint, and car jacked out of  her driveway, so she's not afra 

Always is.

The Blonde was kind of hoping he'd fight, she wanted to kick him in the balls. She's not afraid of a guy on a bike; she was car jacked in her own driveway a couple of years ago and also held  up at gunpoint when she worked in a record store. A guy in spandex she has ZERO fear of.

I should've found a stout stick and stuck it in his wheels.