Help The Aged. A Saturday Ride.

Well without going into too much boring detail, the rib pain is back. BUT NOW it's on the right side not the left side. I think I might me dieing or just getting old and out of shape. OR I just need to FINALLY go to a doc/chiropractor to make sure I'm OK.

This post is brought to you by Jarvis Cocker and his old band Pulp. Because for some reason I woke up with the following Pulp lyrics on my mind. Probably because I've been in enough pain during the night to make me feel like I'm 89 going on dead.

"Help the aged,
one time they were just like you,
drinking, smoking cigs and sniffing glue. Help the aged,
don't just put them in a home,
can't have much fun in there all on their own."

-Help The Aged, Pulp

Thankfully, after breakfast, the rib/shoulder/back started to ease up and a ride was planned. Dirt. Boyce Park and cheek time on the Mamasita. Oddly I have NO pain when riding. Just when I'm laying down and trying to sleep. So, what the f*ck, ride on!

"Hey you, you in the Jesus Sandals"
- Joyriders, Pulp

2 miles into the ride I'm a the come around a sharp corner ready to take a rutted, rooty, descent and there's a helmetless rider hoofing it UP the hill, and dude looked JUST like Jesus. My first thoughts aside from "Jesus, put a helmet on!" was of the new T6 Jesus T. So I threw down an "Our Father" and rolled on. Ha!

Legs felt damn good and I busted out 17 miles of twisty single track dirt in 2 hours. Odd, because last night all I could think about was the want of a morphine drip, and then I wake up, eat, coffee up, shit x3, kiss the fam, and roll 17 in the dirt. Not bad.

They say we're all the same and it's "nice one", "geezer"
But that's as far as the conversation went.
"Sorted For E's And Wiz", Pulp

So all in all not a bad Saturday in the saddle. Wifey is a in full on "geek up" for the start of her new job on Monday and I hover between feeling like a million bucks on the bike and the wanting the above mentioned morphine drip, so I think we're just gonna hang at home, have a couple of frothy bevies, cook up some white pizzas, maybe introduce B-Man to the music of Pulp and then If I'm lucky, tackle that pesky area crime wave with Wifey late tonight. Nudge-nudge-wink-wink. Know-what-I mean?

Hope to ride some pavement in the a.m.

Don't let your meat loaf.

Later.