Directeaur Sportux Pledges WideSpread Chaos
It goes without saying that the pace here at Harris Cyclery is in full swing. My regards to all the other bike Shops in this nation who are appreciating the furious mobilization of machines and geared devices for Americans and Sleepie-cells at large. we all deserve the joys of the bike, either for racing, recreation, and the beer-run.
Personally, it makes no difference if you are a courteous patron or passively-self entitled member of the faux-Kennedy family, everyone deserves a finely tuned ride.
Though the training campaign has been mildly sporatic, the intent is evident: to re-arm the Sling with the best stones David's monies can buy. who, you say? this is anyone willing to stand up against a crazy huge warrior, or Red China tank, or a tourist trolley on Boylston Straat! As there are never any assurances to success or survival, lose your knee cap to Grape-shot and take the medal. rest, recover, and then tell your directeaur Sportux that you will feast upon more ball bearings when your Phantom Feeling returns. He will sadly smile, and later, cry for your mother.
for now, we are carrying Shovels. they are scuffed and dirty from filling up sand bags; fortifying the walls of a city doomed to be sacked by the armies of Mars.
yours is a Maginot line awaiting a train wreck oh so very terrific.
shuffle to the door, clip on to the line, and prepare for Green.
cheers.
Personally, it makes no difference if you are a courteous patron or passively-self entitled member of the faux-Kennedy family, everyone deserves a finely tuned ride.
Though the training campaign has been mildly sporatic, the intent is evident: to re-arm the Sling with the best stones David's monies can buy. who, you say? this is anyone willing to stand up against a crazy huge warrior, or Red China tank, or a tourist trolley on Boylston Straat! As there are never any assurances to success or survival, lose your knee cap to Grape-shot and take the medal. rest, recover, and then tell your directeaur Sportux that you will feast upon more ball bearings when your Phantom Feeling returns. He will sadly smile, and later, cry for your mother.
for now, we are carrying Shovels. they are scuffed and dirty from filling up sand bags; fortifying the walls of a city doomed to be sacked by the armies of Mars.
yours is a Maginot line awaiting a train wreck oh so very terrific.
shuffle to the door, clip on to the line, and prepare for Green.
cheers.
posted by moeljopoot at 10:53 AM
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