Don't Worry Ma, She Won't Drop You

Ma's still at Methodist Hospital. I think they're covering their ass this time. They had her a month ago and then she fell down again. Now the physical therapy department is teaching her how to walk with a walker. The people in the pt dept are great with her even though she's sure they're gonna drop her. Not gonna happen.

Went to bed at 3:30 Sunday morning and was up by 6:30 and didn't sleep all that well in those 3 hours. No big deal. It's Ma we're talking about and a little sleep deprivation is actually pretty cool.

Every single person at the hospital who's dealing with my mother are great. Everyone. But why is hospital parking such a screw job?

Twenty bucks bought 2 personal pizza's, beef goulash, pudding, a cookie, one large bottle of soda, chicken pasta salad, coffee and a cookie. Sorry Smithers, no chicken nuggets. Maybe today.

Taking the elevator down for coffee we ran into two ladies who were pretty sad. Their sister/mother was there to basically die. Puts the bullshit of tree planting into perspective.

Irv, Clean Up In Aisle 5

Speaking of hitting the deck...Ma passed out and fell down last night so Mrs and I were at Methodist Hospital until about 2:30 in the morning. Ma was admitted to the hospital after she failed the er doc's agilility test. She's wasn't happy to be spending the night and made several attempts to pull her iv out. She was dozing off when we left so hopefully she slept. We'll be back there soon. I slept at least an hour so I'm good to go. Sleep when you're dead.

Just For You, Debra

So a really long time ago Mrs had said a bulldog reminds her of her father. My father-in-law was a great guy who would do anything for you. We tried to fit a Cub's game in when Mrs and I visited Chicago even though he was a White Sox's fan and referred to Harry Cary as 'the blubberer'. He died 12 years ago. He's still quoted at our house. This life doesn't come with a rewind button. Bummer, huh 666?

Maple Syrup, Nectar Of The Gods

If this picture doesn't show up...tough shit...this ain't the Freewheel blog

An Action Shot Of Chicks Racing...Yaaaaaay!

All This And Dog Bites For The Kids

Right Before A Race You Can Cut The Tension With A Plastic Fork

Click on the picture and get it up to full size so we can analyze:

Star of the show: Peter in the Grumpy's jersey...great guy and a real smart ass. Poor Tuffy, Pete gives him so much shit and Tuffy has no response. That's ok T, I have a guy at work that's like that with me.

Far left in the Silver Cycling kit: He wants to say something. He really does. All I'll say to him is Ride Forrest, Ride.

Blue Tonka kit: Deep in thought, probably thinking about whether he left the iron on or where he parked the car.

Bicycle Chain jersey: Still can't decide if he reminds me of Charles Manson or Dennis Hopper in Easy Rider.

There's a Loon State Guy talking about how his mom makes the best brownies and I see Owen from Cat 6 probably pontificating about root canals and last but not least the Directeur Sportif from Cat 6 trying to stand on his tippy-toes to get in the picture. Blah, blah, blah. Go back to work. Especially you Mrs.

8:46 update: My mentor from 34th and Lyndale where you can get a damn good cup of coffee and stickers raises a valid point. Who is the unidentified Grumpy's rider fondling his "seat"? I was standing there taking the picture and I can't remember. Is it Mr Pasty White Legs or the former Chief Cook and Bottle Washer at World Cycling Productions?

Wow! A Loon State Podium Cap And My AARP's Card In The Same Day

I'll make sure I wear my LSC cap the next time I'm called in to HR for being a bad boy. Thanks Skibonator.

The Skull Cap Kinda Pulls That Outfit Together

Remember Cat 6 when you're on your little rollers next winter watching reruns of Murder, She Wrote.

Loon State's Secret Weapon

This is Jordan and that's an owie (technical medical term) on his left knee. His father has a slightly different view of Jordan's crash. I have the full scoop. Jordan was well out in front of the field when an elephant from a near-by circus appeared. Jordan safely navigated around the beast and hit a stone in the road...a stone roughly the size of the diamond in a decent engagement ring. Well, what they consider a big enough diamond these days when chicks all get together and say, 'let's see your ring'. Sorry, back to Jordan. Jordan's tire hits the stone and throws him off kilter and at 35 mph he just couldn't hold it together. Jordan's a nice kid and now I have one roadie that I like.

Straight Out Of Compton

Vicious pancake eating bitches moving in for the kill

Opus tonight. I hope it doesn't rain. Oh no, I don't give a shit about lycra (ha Tuffy) clad roadie geeks. I don't want to stand out in the rain and watch the races. Pictures that don't make any sense even to me will be posted tomorrow.

Hey lobster boy, ever heard of sunblock.

Trees will be delivered today for planting. Aw fuck!

Glad I didn't grow up in the technology age. Ma would have (thanks Hurl) made me carry a pager or cell phone and would have been able to track my movements.

Pizza day at work today. It'll be filmed for one of those educational channels like Discovery or Playboy. Like I say, if you and your co-workers find yourself at a buffet of any kind and see a group of boys wearing City of Richfield work shirts come in...run as GD quickly as possible and you might live to see another day.

Go here. Read it. Leave a comment if you're so inclined. Vermont? Am I right? Oh goody, maple syrup for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Johnny, what would I need to do to make this more like Kup's Column?

Yes I had trouble with the colors. Yes it's stressing me out.

Great To See You, Honey

Don't Fuck Around Alec, Cut Her Allowance Back To 10 Grand A Month

Ma Told Me She's From Chicago Where We Eat Punks Like The Donimator For Lunch

Hang On Ma, I'm On My Way

Sunday Dragger ride started out with the salad bar (for me) at Country Buffet and a glass of skim milk. There was a guy at the next table who put on a performance worthy of the Directeur Sportif or the Phoenix.

Mrs greets the Birchwood racing team on the Ford Bridge.

One of the few spots in the Twin Cities not slated for condos.

Minnehaha Falls...who cares? Nope, not me.

Down river from the falls...taken at Mrs insistence. Makes you want to move to Minneapolis? I think not.

Have a great day. Get off your dead ass and do some yardwork. You'll feel better about yourself.

Does Oliver Have A Matching Hat?

Nice shirt!! I better check my collection for anything that might compliment the look you've got going. Steve P would be so proud.

Morgan, I Shoulda Called...We Could've Had A Cereal Eating Contest

Olive, drop that stupid frisbee and go get your banana bunker.

Olive, will you please stop that GD barking?

Oh fudge (instead of fuck), that bad man (asshole works better) found the silverware drawer.

I just noticed that tile on the ceiling. We should of (have, have, have...fuck you, Hurl) done that when we retiled the bathroom.

Take Care Son, I'll Worry About You

Bolstad called yesterday when I was on my way home from work and I missed his call. He's off to Iraq as a medic in the Army. He left what for him was a quite emotional voicemail. I'll worry for sure. The kid's like family to me.

Mrs and I marked two years of commuting by bike yesterday by carjacking a soccer mom at Southdale. It's been great and I arrive at work awake as opposed to my crabby co-workers who are still half asleep.

Things are cranking up rather quickly at work these days. The nightmare of tree planting starts next week. It ain't all glamour and orange paint. It's pissy-I-need-immediate-attention-or-I'll-call-the-mayor-fucksticks that take the fun out of this job.

Opus: Dubay Brothers Agree That Clyde Drexler's Jitterbug Blows, Lens On Camera Dirty From Last Time Wu Used It, No Bell Ringing For You

Cat 6 yucking it up after their race.
The Phoenix celebrates the fact that later in the evening he'll be in the company of a woman.
A man in a kilt is just so macho, wouldn't you agree?
Blurry shot of a race of some kind.

Not important. Move on.
Cat 6er Drew gets out of the saddle on his way to Caribou for coffee. Thanks Drew. Sorry I didn't have any money.
How the f#*@ did that get in here?

Tonight, Clyde The Glide Is Finally Put Out Of His Misery

My favorite Opus picture from last year

Opus racing starts tonight so my Tuesday rides through Edina to the cheers of adoring soccer moms starts today too. For my money you just can't beat glaring soccer moms on their cell phones telling the old man what a worthless piece of shit he is while also yelling crap at kids in the backseat. Aah Opus...where dreams are fulfilled and legends are made.

So my Godchild now has a blog which is picking up steam and his wife (a nice girl and Aimee's mother) has her blog which she occasionally posts to...which kinda made me think. Hmm, are there any formerly married couples who trade shit on each other's blogs? I mean, it's a rather impersonal world anyway where e-mails and instant messages take precedence over face-to-face contact. Yes, my little blonde haired riding partner, you understand.

Mrs spent 200 dollars to keep Clyde Drexler alive on Dancing With The Stars. His samba last night was scintillating.

Debbie, This Is Oliver Of Glendale Heights

Furthermore my love...you can have a foo foo dog after I'm dead. Well, maybe you can have a foo foo dog as a third dog.

No Al, That's Not Carrot...

Photo bootlegged from Shockspital.com.

Hiawatha ride on clown bike Saturday was good. Going down Ohio Street on fixie interesting. Catching roadies with clown bike quite fun.

Dragger ride Saturday for egg rolls, tea pot for Mrs weed and soccer mom cell phone fund was great. Mrs pedalled twice.

Grumpy's Roubaix...aah, in the presence of greatness.

Cat 6 To Ride In Grumpy's-Roubaix On Sunday

Cat 6 Directeur Sportif shown here announcing Cat 6's participation in LGR's cobblestone ride which starts at 1 pm Sunday at Grumpy's Northeast and ends at Grumpy's on Washington where the revelers will watch Mrs tape of Clyde Drexler doing the jitterbug. Pajama party to follow at (dis)pencer's post modernistic bullshit condo (watch the movie Heat for reference). Mrs and Bolstad get the condo line.

I'm off today and feel oh so sorry for you if you have to work. I'm off to CRC to see if whoever's working can give me trackstanding pointers.

Tuffy, I'm not feeling the love.

Pair Of Choppers

Sometimes it's kinda cool to look at your stats and see what search terms are used to find you. I've had my stats for a little over a year now and besides the hundreds of hits I get for 'How to steal cable' there are some other interesting (only to me) search terms:

hunting mittens - Realistically, my long lost brother Snakebite is probably more of an authority on hunting items. I'm sure he spends cozy evenings cleaning his shotgun while watching Clyde Drexler trying to keep those size 15 feet from tripping over one another on Dancing With The Stars.

sick boy motorcycle bars - Well according to the Flying Forehead's Cro-Magnon thinking Sickboy's girlfriend won't let him have a blog so a motorcycle would definitely be out of the question.

Give hipsters a break - No, no, no brakes...hit the gas pedal

hell pictures - Let me give you an image. Upon your arrival in hell you notice millions of nuns with rulers waiting for you...Magna's of every size and color...Lima beans till hell won't have it and enough Clif bars to rebuild the Great Wall of China which was probably built by city workers.

my left side rib area hurts when I breathe... - I'm no doctor but I can suggest a couple of remedies. Don't breathe comes to mind immediately which kinda seems logical and the other remedy that worked for me right up until I went to treatment would be to take a fist full of Aleve and wash them down with a water glass of Jack Daniels.

flight attendant - When did this job turn into a career choice instead of something young women did for shits and giggles? No wonder these crabby old bags snarl at me when I ask for a set of plastic pilot's wings.

Oh yeah, I also get the obligatory 'Checkoslovakia' hits because I used that word one time. To quote William Shatner from his appearance on Saturday Night Live from the Star Trek convention skit. 'You people have taken something I did as a lark and turned it into a monumental waste of time'.

Mrs, What Did Curtis Say? 'The Brother's Got No Rhythm'.

My Guest Blogger

Don Imus is in trouble with women's groups, basketball players and of course...soccer moms who aren't included in women's groups. I looked at the roster of the Rutger's women's basketball team and except for a girl from Utah, most of the ladies are from what may be considered the inter-city. I'm betting they've been called ho's before. Should he have used the term 'nappy headed ho's'? No. NBC Nightly News spent the first 7 or 8 minutes last night talking about his comments. I guess they've gotten all the mileage they possibly could out of Hurricane Katrina. Imus is a knob for sure and I'm not defending him except to say we tend to blow things out of proportion these days. My co-worker listens to Rush Limbaugh every day so I've heard Barack The Magic Negro about 10 times in the last two weeks. Hmm?


Snow in Minneapolis today. What a day it would be for LGR's Grumpy's Roubaix cobblestone ride.

Oh, before you comment remember...ho and whore are not synonymous. Same thing goes for beeotch and bitch.

Play That Funky Music, White Boy

Please limit your Banana Bunker comments to those of a sexual nature.

Let's See One Of You Jerks True Those Wheels

Local haberdasher and really nice guy Zito was hit by a car last week and is now out of the hospital. The chickenshit who hit him then fled the scene. A fund has been set up to help with medical costs. Ma has donated some of her loot from the Lufthansa Heist and Mrs has chipped in with some of her Girl Scout protection money. Me, well there are several convenience stores on the way home.

Chris Zito Fund

c/o TCF Bank

801 Marquette Avenue 001-01-J

Minneapolis MN 55402-9984

Art Crank Poster Show

Hey Snakepants, you missed beer, cheese and posters...and apparently a floor show by employee #666. Seriously homie, only God can judge us.

We bought this one done by Super Rookie's brother Kevin. The little blinkie actually lights up. Yee ha!

Clown Bike Reloaded

Mark, bike mechanic extraordinaire at HC built me up a wheel (or was it Jim?) for my Rollo so now it is a fixed gear bicycle. What that means to y'all non-bike types is that it rides like any bike except that I can't coast. Correction, I can coast if I take my feet off the pedals and get my legs outta the way. Front brake, 16 tooth cog, Surly hub, blah, blah,blah...where the **** is the Easter Bunny? Oh, I guess Jim built the wheel but Mark's a really good mechanic and a really nice guy. Jim and Kevin are ok too.

Who says I'm not cultured? I'm going to the Art Crank Poster show at One on One tonight. Probably take the train down cuz that's why they built it.

Don't let that sun and beautiful blue lake fool you. It's like 20 degrees and windy but not all of the roadies are home on their rollers watching the Masters. Let's see...golf and rollers. Wow, what an unbelievable combination he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

Have a good Easter. Call or visit your mother. And watch as much golf as possible because you only live once he said in his serious radio announcer's voice.

Hotpinkevil Sent This To Ma's Cell Phone...Leading Ma To Stop Trying To Punch Her Nurse

Taken by Super Rookie with his new $500 phone. Gee, with the money I'm saving by not drinking I should be able to afford one in like 3 hours. Shit, isn't that Sarah cute!!

Where The F*** Is Her Pudding?

Anyway I'm at tree school in Brooklyn Center Wednesday listening to a lecture on sun scald or frost cracking or something and my phone vibrates. I don't answer it which is normal but listen to the voicemail. It's Mrs telling me that my Ma practically passed out and she was going to be taken by ambulance to Fairview Southdale. I call Mrs right back and tell her I'll pick her up in like 20-30 minutes.

We rush to Fairview Southdale and find parking and then the emergency room. Hey, guess what? Ma's not there and they check the computer twice. So, I call the office at Ma's assisted living building and tell them Ma's not here. They tell me they'll call me back after they check it out. They call me back and tell me Ma was taken to Methodist Hospital in Saint Louis Park. Off we go.

Indeed Ma is in the emergency room at Methodist where they're giving her an antibiotic for a bladder infection and re-hydrating her. Accelerade? ER doctor believes Ma should be kept over one night for observation and presto...an hour and a half later Ma is in a room on 3 East.

Somewhere along the line Ma figures out she's not going home and becomes quite cantankerous. I haven't gotten dirty looks like the one she was giving me since like high school. I assure Mother that these looks aren't going to get her anywhere so she better make the best of it. After repeated attempts to disconnect her iv and heart monitor wires the doctor on call has the nurse give Ma a pill to deal with the anxiety. Aah, happy pills from a trained medical professional. I love you doc.

Mother rested peacefully the rest of Wednesday and I picked her up Thursday morning and took her back to her apartment. She's kinda wobbly but at least she's in familiar surroundings.

What do you get for $17 at the hospital cafeteria? 2 cheeseburgers, one order of fries, one turkey sandwich, an ice cream sandwich and 2 coffees. Not bad. Same stuff would've been $212.79 at Birchwood.

One Tough Broad

Ma had to go to the hospital after wrecking her bmx bike. She's ok but her bike is shit. Full details on the hospital experience including a critique of the cafeteria food coming tomorrow. Jeez, these people at the Apple store have no sense of humor when it comes to porn.

I Must Of Deleted Your Memo

So I'm not riding my bike to Brooklyn Center for the second day of tree school and I'm doing a quick post from the Dunn Brothers on Washington and North 3rd. Which brings us to the point of today's essay. What happened to Washington Avenue. I took Washington to Broadway yesterday and couldn't get over how glitzed up it is...yuppie bars and shit to make kids from Eden Prairie come down so they can believe they're hanging out in the hood. Even the really rough looking bar a way's down has been transformed into a German beer hall looking thing. Thank God there's still Deja Vu, Sinners and Sexworld.

On a totally unrelated note, if you're riding your little bike this morning in Minneapolis or Eden Prairie...yous gonna be cold...especially after that 80 degree bullshit.

Peace out. I save you a place at lunch.

What time is lunch?

Tree school today and tomorrow in Brooklyn Center at the Earle Brown Heritage Center. Pretty nice place but not quite large enough for 800 people. That last tree root seminar was the bomb. There's like 10 people from our place there and it appears as if some of the boys are amusing themselves by sending text messages to each other. 'What are you wearing tomorrow'?'Probably the leather pants and the puffy shirt'.

I drove the car but may ride my bike there tomorrow. Riding a bike as much as I do has definitely affected my driving. I mean, I live in Minnesota where a red light is merely a suggestion so I'm actually more in tune with the other drivers. Stop/pause signs don't pose much of a problem either.

The local news guys are acting like these snow showers are the end of the world. Shit, it always snow here in April.

Before I Go For The Day

Since the whole two day birthday kick is in progress I want to do a short list of things I want to do before I die. There was a round of this going around the blogs recently and actually Mrs tagged me after I mentioned one item on the way home from an all night cheese store robbery we pulled recently in Wisconsin.

1) Rip the door off the car of some jerk who throws his/her car door open into traffic without looking. I'd like to say I could do this on my bike but I'll need to hunker down at Melo Glaze first.

2) Get shot while riding my bike and then ride to the hospital emergency room for the 3 hour wait. Yearn to ride in France if you must but I'm more of a child of the hood and have different dreams.

3) Transform my yard into a showplace and be featured on HGTV. Well, how about at least mowing it more than three times a year. Hmm, getting shot is probably more realistic especially if I were to move to Philadelphia.

4) Fly a 747. Come on, how GD hard can this be? It's not like no-handed trackstanding or doing an endo. The damn things practically fly themselves.

5) Hug my pal Bolstad after he comes home safely from Iraq. He will be deployed in a little over two weeks. I'll worry about him the whole time he's over there. Don't get all sentimental...if you ever met him you'd want to slap him within about 5 minutes. Just like meeting me in person. Only God can judge me.

I've Come To A Decision

Ok, so my entire life I've believed my birthday to be on April 2nd. Hell, my birth certificate says April 2nd. Here's where it gets interesting. My birth certificate says that the time of birth was 12:06 am. That's 6 minutes after midnight and a new day starts at midnight for those of you geniuses who have trouble distinguishing between midnight and noon.


12:06 am? Come on it's 1958 and my doctor (Dr Kedora? #1 HA, yes?) was a big-old-drunk-ass- overeating-golf-playing-nurse-pinchin'-sob probably had to get his fat ass out of bed. He was tired. He was hungover. Get the picture? So after he pulled me out and waited for the fire department to hose me down I'm sure he went out for a heater. Then he came back and the nurse asked what time she should put down on the chart. He probably remarked about how we can't have the kid ridiculed as an April Fools baby so he blurted out 12:06 am. Makes perfect sense to me.

So, from this birthday forward I will celebrate my birthday on both April 1st and 2nd. Since many people know my birthday to be on the 2nd I won't screw with their frail memories. But I know the truth. They sure could've used my talents on the Warren Commission.


What's up with the cake? Mrs picked it up cheap after Irving ran away to join the circus. Or did he run away to ride with Cat 6? Beats the shit out of me.


How old am I. I'm 49. Throw some old jokes in the comments but remember I made it to 49 and the jury's still out for you if you're younger. The grim reaper knows where you are so don't try and hide.