Midweek Yawwwwny

Frank Schleck, and what's left of his collarbone. Crucial!Yesterday's ride into work and subsequent ride home featured not one, not two, but three trains! The last train was on the cusp of the USC campus. I tried to get closer to the car in front of me but fear, fear of the unknown made me keep my distance. The stereo was blasting a Jodeci-styled R & B through treble-phonic speakers as the driver bounced up and down wildly, eating what appeared to be some sort of mega gyro or a small baby wrapped in swaddling pita.

I could smell it from 30 yards away. Anyhoo, while this sociopath relished his dinner and dancing, I began scouting alternate routes around the train. A quick jaunt through the Vista and I was on my way home, as the train, like all trains rumbling through Columbia, slowly ground to a halt. Since school is out, I've been trying to ride in to work more often, but because of lack of fitness or lack of Jodeci, or a combination of both, I have found my legs to be sore and somewhat tender, like lamb meat steaming inside a gyro. To alleviate this succulent pain, a pair of Craft compression socks (CLTH701633) were acquired with due expediency and subsequently adorned.

When combined with my compression Yanni, they increase circulation by 30 percent and "savage beatings" by a whopping 9000 percent. I look forward to premiering this outfit at Bobby's Open, a delightful "motorcycle enthusiast" (Leather Daddy) watering hole in the heart of Springdale, where sartorial panache is eagerly awarded by the most concupiscent patrons! Huzzah!

By the way, a few tidbits of cycling ephemera to shepherd you to the rightside of the weekly calendar:
Molly Cameron gives his two cents about disc brakes being allowed on cross bikes...

And FMK's insightful review of Bill Strickland's sycophantic love letter to Lance Armstrong...