“I hate those fags on bikes. Every time I see one on the road I want to run them over with my truck” he said. “Oh yeah? Your wife will be on one of those bikes soon. You gonna run me over, too?” I asked. “Yep! Look, a cyclist. Thump! That used to be my wife, but now it’s a speed bump.” he replied, half joking, half his usual brand of control via intimidation.

So, it was no big surprise when, after months of panic attacks on the bike every time I rode within proximity of a silver Toyota Tacoma, one finally ran me down on what would have been our tenth wedding anniversary. No, it wasn’t my ex that took me out, but a total stranger… But still, pretty eerie, is it not?

I was riding with about thirty cyclists that morning and I was fifth from the lead. The truck overtook most of us, then cut a quick right turn into a driveway ahead of me, offering me no option but impact. I was able to slow down from about 18-20 mph to about 6-10 mph prior to the collision, but hitting a wall of steel at any speed is gonna hurt.

And hurt it does. This is my first day back at the keyboard in over a week, and I’m making it a short visit just to update. Although I was extremely fortunate that I didn’t go under his back wheel, I did suffer a great amount of damage from the three impacts: my bike hitting the truck, my body hitting the truck, and my body hitting the ground.

Continue Reading 23 comments November 25th, 2007

Only took me three decades to try a meal at the #3 burger chain in America, and only one spicy chicken sandwich for Wendy’s to become my favorite place to catch a bite on the run. I’m trying to remember why I’d never dined there before. Was it their scary looking redhead girlie mascot? Rumored use of kangaroo meat? (No, that’s why I waited 20 years to try Jack in the Box.) Or maybe simply the fact that while growing up we weren’t allowed to eat fast food. In any case, I’m over it now. That spicy chickeny goodness, skip the fries in favor of a baked potato, add a mandarin orange cup… That’s what I’m talkin’ about. I’m seriously addicted to this place.

17 comments October 18th, 2007

Last night I experienced the pleasure of my first blogger meet. It was a nice warm-up for Blogasm 2008 but let the attendees be warned, for this new experience taught me that this Bombshell gets extremely shy when meeting fellow bloggers. Though I’m normally not bad at making friends, there’s just something about seeing someone in the flesh after reading about their life for ages that makes me feel extra super duper awkward… Perhaps I’ll do better next time.

Despite my shyness it was such a treat to meet Dave of Blogography and his crew of devoted Los Angeles fans at Lucky Strike on Hollywood Blvd. Unfortunately, I had to cut out early to see UCLA vs. UW at the Rose Bowl, so I missed out on bowling and meeting Neil and Sophia of Citizen of the Month. Which is lame since I’m the one who tipped him off that Dave was coming to town. Our guest of honor was every bit as cool as I’d already presumed from his writing, in fact, now that I’ve witnessed him in his full three-dimensional glory, I’m betting that his writing will take on some extra dimension for me, as well.

Dave, thank you so much for giving long-time readers like me the opportunity to get to know you a little better. I was really impressed with all the fun things you did to make your guests feel so greatly appreciated. I wore my artificial duck button to brunch today alongside my Ninja who donned his “I am the decider” pin. He’s now a believer regarding the undercover geek status I claim. We both hope to see you again some time. Oh, and here’s the pirate joke we owe you:

So a pirate walks into a bar, swaggers up to the barkeep and demands a glass of rum. The bartender, being a reasonable fellow, makes no complaint but simply grabs a large glass, a bottle of fine dark rum, and begins to pour. And while he’s waiting for the glass to fill he sizes up the pirate, having never seen a real honest-to-God pirate before.

This pirate is in full regalia: gold earrings, patch over the eye, a big filthy white blouse covering his swarthy chest, tattoos everywhere, all of it… but protruding from his pirate trousers is the unmistakable form of a ship’s wheel. As the glass of rum tops off, the barkeep skims it across the bar to the pirate, who nods curtly and downs it in one huge swig. Slapping a dubloon on the bartop, he turns to walk away when our bartender’s curiosity gets the best of him.

“Wait, one second. What’s up with the steering wheel?” and the pirate turns back and fixes him with a beady glare from his lone eye, “Arrr, I don’t know, but it’s drivin’ me nuts!”

18 comments September 23rd, 2007

At first glance I figured maybe they sold calculators, but when I walked up to get a little closer I realized it was the sort of thing one could only find in Fontucky… God bless San Bernardino County and their interesting retail concepts.

Perhaps if I could stop laughing so hard every time I see that sign, I might be able to mozy in and place an order for some chicken-fried sushi with a side order of eda-yo-mame.

7 comments August 21st, 2007

I’ve been a Pasadena, California resident since birth, and for the most part I have enjoyed life in the city of roses. We don’t have to look far to find places to play, great shops, tons of diversity, and tasty food.

As a cyclist, I especially enjoy the many bike routes and legendary group rides such as Montrose and the Rose Bowl. Adding to the excitement, it was recently announced that the Amgen Tour of California (one of the premier pro cycling events in the US) will finish with a criterium in our town.

Which is why it was so strange that a week later a new ordinance was passed by the city council to outlaw the peloton. That term refers to a group of cyclists riding together in a free formation, such as you’ll see during any of the grand tours, like the Tour de France. So, let me get this straight: The pro peloton is coming to town, and you want to OUTLAW that style of riding for all the local cycling fans? Brilliant!

Continue Reading 15 comments August 10th, 2007