knox snooze

Succotash my Balzac, dipshiitake.

Cycle o' the seasons

Inspiration: the testicles of sea creatures.

So, last week, it was a difficult, but important, choice I made to ride my bike to work instead of driving my truck when I knew I was going to be late. Just to give you a little insight into how my mind (doesn't) work: I've already gotten to the point where I just don't give a rat's ass if I'm late. My bike is a good excuse for being late. "Why was I late? Because I rode my bike, you fat jackass."

I mean, that's how it would go if I had a spine.

This morning was colder and wetter than a Narwhal's balls, but I rode anyway. It makes me feel strong. Which, incidentally, is how people at work describe my aroma.
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