Well, back in the garage staring at bikes and drinking coffee. Got a sleeping bag sitting on the Shovel. She’s begging. The bag was sitting on the Heritage the other day when the wife walked into the garage and said in a no nonsense, I want a answer now kind’a way: “What’s the bag on the bike for”? I think she thought we were taking a break. Nope. Just the bag I had in the back of my truck. Brought it inside and didn’t put it away yet. She said: “Oh” and walked inside. I think she was begging also. Soon Carol. We’ll hit the road soon.
So I’m sitting here and I’m dreading tomorrow. I’ve got to spend about 4 hours tomorrow raking leaves and mowing the lawn. Then it hits me; “You f*ckers that live in snow country have it too f’ing easy!”
Now before you get you’re plug wires crossed and say: “Willy, are you out of your damn mind?” “We’re ass deep in snow and you’re bitching about your lawn?” “You a-hole!”
Let me ‘splane myself here Lucy. You guys are ass deep in it. You “know” you can’t go anywhere. You accept the power of Mother Nature and jump on the snowmobile or put sheet metal screw in your tires and play pinball machine with the snow banks.
Here, it’ll probably hit 70 degrees tomorrow and I “have to” do the lawn. I’ve already put it off for two weeks and I’m just not that rotten of a neighbor; I’ll do my part.
Think about it. What’s worse? Being in freezing, ass deep snow and you can’t go riding? Or being in 70 degree weather and you can’t go riding?
I’ll tell ya, when you look at he weather here, and know that periodically you have to sacrifice a day like this to actually do chores, well, it really tears at your soul.
You'd be Angry Too If Your Name Was Irma
3 weeks ago