Yes.
More superimportantly, how do I get the tires inflated? I realized earlier today while trying to stave off the boredom of sitting around at home listening to jazz, drinking brandy and eating a microwave pizza with chopped up pieces of canned artichoke hearts on top, that not only was my pump broken, but it never had a working Schraeder end in the first place. For those of you out there who aren't enlightened enough to know that you should ride a bike everywhere you go because there isn't going to be any oil after the apocalypse, there are two different valves on a bicycle: Presta and Shraeder. Presta are skinny. Shraeder are like the typical valves that you'll find on a car. This is important to know. Superimportant, as a matter of fact.
What's also superimportant to know is that riding a brakeless, skinny-tired bike home in a blizzard with an inch of snow on the ground after having been drinking for 6 hours is totally awesome. It's also important that my grandmother NEVER READS THIS. She doesn't like the whole "bike around the city all the time" thing anyway, and if she knew I was riding drunk in blizzards with no brakes, she'd shit her pants, which at her age, is actually much more uncommon for her than any of you really need to know.
Getting back to relevant things, I think I need to elaborate on the zombie killing farm that is part of what's going to make the future so awesome. If you've seen the movie 28 days later, there's this part where they're in the castle, and all the zombies come lurching towards them, and they have to keep them back with machine guns. Frankly, I'd pay good money to be able to be one of the guys who gets to shoot machine guns at zombies who are lurching across a feild at me. I'd be like paintball, except you get to actually kill people. There are more details about the zombie farm in the predecessor of the superimportant: mything.
This is how I will begin planning for the zombie farm: zombie roaches. Genetic engineers will kindly contact me with resumes and references.
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2 comments:
interesting.. i also wanted to ride my mtn bike but realized that i have no way of attaching a back fender properly, since my seat is mere inches above the rear tire. hm.. what a dilemma.
right now i'm drinking bourbon after having eaten my leftover tamale from the other night. sounds like self-medication is common on sunday evenings...
Kenny! Stop riding in the city! You'll put your eye out! or get raped! or possibly both at the same time if you play your cards right! People in the city are meany mean-heads! They don't play nice! Riding your trikey in the city will only bring you trouble, with a capital T, my little Ken doll. So please, please, stop riding in the ci--oh my god, someone put shit in my pants!! Kenny! Come back here and help Nana clean boxhole canyon!
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