Asshats and Asscracks...

Yesterday was a wierd day. Loco sent a link to a wacky article about some fools in England trying to protest GM crops being planted, so they organized a guerilla planting of regular potatoes in the field to ruin the crop - trouble is, they picked the wrong field and ruined an innocent farmer's crop instead, well here's the link for you: http://www.indymedia.org.uk/en/2007/04/368698.html?c=on#comments

While the post is kind of wacky, the funniest part of it are the comments section, notably the use of the word Asshat. Well, being an online gamer, I have come across this word frequently used to describe idiots that do stupid things, but hey, I love seeing it in mainstream usage outside of online gaming. We had a good email session back and forth getting a good laugh out of the word, and I am glad to see it introduced to other people's vocabulary. On to the Asscrack portion of the day...

On the afternoon bike ride, there were the usual list of suspects that showed up to ride, but we had a new addition to the mix, some guy with tattoos all over his legs riding a Specialized S-Works Tarmac carbon - nice bike for sure, but he was rocking the full on Specialized Zebra kit, even down to the matching gloves. Zebroy, as he will now forever be known, committed several cardinal sins with his clothing choices of the day. First off, no one can rock zebra, unless you are the Lion King, Mario Cipollini( see above photo). Super Mario, as he was also called, was a great big Italian sprinter who could back up his flamboyant kit choices with his awesome sprinting prowness, thus he was able to rock the zebra stripes, and it looked good on him. Secondly, his shorts were abraded and scuffed, as well as looking to be about a half size too small. Now we all know that lycra tends to get a bit transparent when stretched, so let's just say when he was riding in front of you, the full moon was shining very brightly. We all know what happens to white when it gets wet, and what happens when you ride? That's right, you sweat. Enough said about that, but I almost ran off into the ditch trying to avoid the terrible sight in front of me most of the ride. It seemed no matter where I tried to position myself in the peloton, I was within sight of Zebroy's fashion faux paus. So, what's Superman to do? Outsprint Zebroy and Dreamweaver at the mailbox to escape the horrors that had been inflicted upon my delicate sensibilities for the bulk of the ride.

All in all, a good day, just a bit wacky in places!