ClydedaleMTB_in_TN said:Couldn't go SCUBA diving this weekend because of a head cold, so I volunteered for a O.T. detail
yesterday..... Figured I'd get some miles in today. Checked the Memphis Hightailers ride schedule
and found a ride leaving at 09:00 from a location only 1 mile from my room, great I don't even
need to drive there! What do I awake to? RAIN!
NOW what do I do? Both bikes are fully tuned, no tinkering available there. The OVLOV is running
primo, no tinkering bneeded. (I could use to find some new rear seats at a bone-yard but they are
all closed.) All my laundry is done and my uniforms are ironed and hung up for next week and the
.40 is sparkling clean. I've already masturbated myself raw..... I'm "serious", there is NOTHING
to do! I'm almost ready to put on my uniform and go hang out at the pancake shop and drink free
(lousy) coffee all day.
SAVE ME, I just may go do something like take a detailing buffer to the Beer'Cross or even
something really scary like shave my legs and private parts and watch video tapes of the Tour De
France all day long!
Re-Post from 1998:
Quoted message said:So what do you do when you can't get out to ride? Often, the normal tendency is to maybe start
on some of the projects that need doing around the house. Resist this impulse; it sets a bad
precedent. Voluntarily relinquished recreational time may be difficult to reclaim later.
Instead, try:
Reading: Go back and re-read some of your back issues of your favorite bike magazines. Funny how
they evolve over time, huh? Or go to the library and check out an armload of science fiction.
Writing: Catch up on your correspondence. Send a letter to your Grandma, or write about a favorite
ride for the newsgroup.
Work on your bike. Give it a bath and a tuneup.
Feed your dog peanut butter. Creamy style works best, but the crunchy type will do in a pinch.
Scoop a heaping tablespoon of peanut butter from the jar. Offer it to the dog; when he opens his
mouth, pop the spoon inside and scrape the peanut butter off the spoon onto the roof of his mouth
and the back of his front teeth. (I've done this a million times to Connor; he knows what's coming
when he sees the spoon, and he still goes for it, because he's such a pig for peanut butter.)
Build a plastic anatomical model with your daughter...."Look, if we hook the colon directly to the
brain, we've got a mikey model." "Mom! I want a normal human!"
Create your own laser show. Put your favorite album on the stereo (anything by Pink Floyd works
great). Turn off all the household lights, and turn overhead ceiling fan on slow. Aim a laser at
the shiney brass fittings and crystal light fixture below. I used an industrial sighting laser,
but I'll bet one of those laser pointers would work as well. Don't point either straight into
anybody's eyes.
Abuse office equipment and/or computer peripherals. Copy or scan unusual objects not meant to go
on the platen glass (oh, like you never did!). Create large binary files.
Spam your sister with the large binary files created above. Pay her back for all the AOL chain
letters she insists on forwarding with 14 pages worth of untrimmed headers. Bonus points for
sending said large binary files encoded, so she has no idea what to do with them, thereby forcing
her to learn how to use WinZip.
Make fudge. None of this marshmallow and chocolate chip stuff, either; go for the real thing.
Watch Mystery Science Theater 3000. Eat the fudge.
Take off your dog's collar and give his neck a good scratching. (Connor's favorite, included out
of fairness for the peanut butter thing)
Paint your son's nails Bass Boat Blue. Double points for this if it causes his father to worry
about gender identity confusion.
Kathleen
