First of all...............I AM SENILE. But that doesn't mean I don't remember things. With a vengeance and a grudge that will never fade. I probably will NEVER FORGIVE that bastard I am married to because when the Tour of California came to town, our plans were to ride our bikes from our house to downtown and spend all day in miserable weather. It was going to be barely tolerable only because it did not look like it would actually rain and I had dressed up--strictly for the potentially bad weather, you know. MR. PANSY MADE ME FUCKING CHANGE MY FUCKING CLOTHES before we left the house. If I had worn what I intended to wear I absolutely would have been on Versus and seen 'round the world. Because I am Adorably Cute.
This place is such a podunk town. And THAT JERKOFF (which is how he is going to be getting his sex for a very long time) that I continue to live with is King of the Fucking Podunks. He actually said OUT FUCKING LOUD to me: "I wish you wouldn't wear that." And THEN he fucking said this: "I know you are just dying for attention...." and his voice trailed off and he looked wistful. Perhaps frightened at what had slipped out of his flapping mouth. I thought "I will show that bastard I am totally capable of NOT wearing costumes." And I dressed down.
Even dressed down, I was quite popular with the crowds....including the pro biker boys out on the bike trail warming up and passing us in each direction as we rode toward downtown. Many people who saw me said "I love your jacket/top/furry breasts." I was wearing my silver "fur" bicycle jersey and it isn't just a costume, it is a functioning genuine bicycle jersey. What I had been wearing in addition to the fur jersey was...well, it was indescribable and NOW NO ONE WILL EVER GET TO SEE IT. Until next year when I plan to follow the Tour of California for a day or two or seven. It is not stalking if you don't carry concealed weapons.
The Tour of California cries out for a "fixture". The "devil" at the Tour de France is a fixture. WHY SHOULDN'T PANSY BE THIS RACE'S FUCKING FIXTURE? I still can't believe that chickenshit I am married to asked me to not dress up. What is wrong with him? He had better realize that kind of "obedience" will never happen again in HIS now very much shortened lifetime. But I am not pissed off forever and ever about this incident. Or bitter. Or homicidal. Noooooo. [snarl]
Highlights of playing with the biker boys: I tracked down a couple of teams during their forced P.R. appearances around town...Jelly Belly and Garmin/Chipotle. They signed free postcards/posters and gave out team water bottles. The Jelly Belly boys had a wheelspin game: each section was 2 flavors of jelly beans. Such as Watermelon/Booger; Peach/Vomit; Lime/Asparagus. Those are all REAL flavors and MY spin landed on: Buttered Popcorn/Rotten Eggs. YES!!!! And that fucker was spot on for realistically horrible flavor. There was a trash can nearby to spew into. That was a Kodak moment I should have predicted but...nope. Because of that senility thing, you know. I still think I was set up for the rotten egg just because I had been smooching on the biker boys. They were probably worried I gave them a "germ". They wish.
The Jelly Belly Boys Never Saw It Coming:
The Chipotle/Garmin Team:
Star Boy Dave Zabriskie
Signed,
If I dress up, there will be trouble
If I don't dress up, it will be double
Something Pansy Found 2 Lifetimes Ago
Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, But to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain,
But for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield,
But to my own strength.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved,
But hope for the patience to win my freedom.
Grant me that I may not be a coward,
Feeling your mercy in my success alone,
But let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.
Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain,
But for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield,
But to my own strength.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved,
But hope for the patience to win my freedom.
Grant me that I may not be a coward,
Feeling your mercy in my success alone,
But let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.
Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Thursday, February 19, 2009
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