Hour bike ride, hour's rest, and then hour and a half of fencing. With another ten minutes of conditioning added just to torture us. Pushurpies are the work of the devil.
Enough whining about crotch sweat and antsy bikers (Dude, just give up, I'm going the exact same speed as you and there's no room, oh look, there's another bike coming, looks like you gotta go back, boo hoo or Why are they going so slow? I'd pass them, but they're about as far left as they can go, which is totally impolite to other bikers, and why do they keep looking back? It's not like I'm tailgating them. I know how to bike, It's not like I'm going to run into them. Maybe if they'd let me pass they wouldn't have to worry so much.)
Oops. Hehe.
I just want to stretch out in bed and analyze a Tamora Pierce book. They used to be my favorites. I guess they're still good, but eh... slightly annoying occasionally.
Blablabla.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment