Randoms

I like reading everyone's blogs. Wish I knew how to link everyone's to mine. I know not so much about dees tings.
When I care less- I like it more. Something I'm realizing. Like the Chili Pepper lyrics about Magic Johnson's basketball talent, "Other teams play for G's but he don't give a fuck."
Tomorrow is our housewarming party. Most of the outside of our house is new now: new roof, new gutters, new siding all the way around. Thanks Mr. Hail Storm.
Dealing with insurance claims sucks. Over the course of our claim, we had four adjusters. None of which knew what the previous one had done really. So my part-time job for the past month and a half or so has been calling State Farm and then calling my contractor, then calling State Farm and back again.
Uh...when kids make themselves vomit in ISS for entertainment- it's time to go home for the year. That happened the hour before I got here luckily because it would have made me puke too. That is nasty.
I wrote a kid up today for going around hitting other kids with what was basically a weedeater string. He hit one kid in the face. I feel bad for the kid because he has a jacked up homelife from what I can tell- basically no supervision. He's getting in trouble around town with the cops too, so things aren't looking very good for him. Anyway, he's done for the year. We only have 2.5 days of school left. He won't be here for them.
Some people are racing this weekend and going up some sick climb at the end. Good luck.
Prozenberger is racing his mountain bike this weekend in town. Last time I went out to watch a race at Cosmo, I wore what I had been hunting in that morning and when people came by I screamed at them with my deer call while hiding in the woods. That was pretty fun. This year I will just wear a distracing costume and wait for a response. I told Prozenberger I was going to wear one of these.

Just kidding.

Return of Hotdog Neck

4 days of school left. I have never felt so blown out from a school year as I do this year. I am just done and holding on by a very thin thread. Over the past 5 days or so, there has been a full crew in ISS everyday. We're talking 12-14 bad attitudes stuffed into a room that is about 20' X 10'. That causes a lot of tension. Luckily, today when I walked in there were only two guys in here- one of them was 'ole Hotdog Neck- the kid who got in trouble for calling another kid "hotdog neck". He's actually not much of a kid. He's taller than I am and looks more like a man. He's a real good athlete too. This past year in football I saw him break upwards of seven tackles on some plays. I know you're thinking that's no big deal because it's only middle school football, but I'm telling you that most of the 8th graders are much more like high schooler than little kids. We have this one 8th grader who's into lifting weights and goes up to the high school and benches like 250 lbs. They all shave and their ugly. But I digress.
On my way to ISS I was thinking about the student I'm calling "hotdog neck". I hadn't seen him in trouble in a while and I was glad because he was getting in trouble a lot lately. So I walk into ISS and look who's there, old Hotdog Neck himself. I just started laughing because it was so ironic. He turns and looks at me and starts kind of snickering and shaking his head because he know's I'm going to give him some hell.
"What's up Hotdog Neck?"
"Aw man."
It goes on for a while and then I get this great idea. I pull up a picture of what I tell him is going to be his first car when he gets a little older and call him over to see it...

"Aw man."

How good am I at racing bikes?

Well, I don't want to brag but... checkmeout
I had planned and registered for the Joe Martin Stage Race in Arkansas. For me, probably the most expensive race weekend of the year. I was "banking" on certain funds being available to go to that race, and there was no way I was going without those certain funds. Those certain funds alluded me. Chasing money is hard sometimes. Needless to say, I didn't make it to Joe Martin. Apparently it didn't matter because I still did well down there for the Friday stage of 110 miles. I was unaware of my results until Saturday morning when I received a sleepy voicemail from one of my teammates who is down at the race in person. He says, "Hey, you need to get down here for today's stage. Right now, you're sitting in 36 place overall. You're money." So I figure he's probably just kidding and making fun of me for noting being there. I get on the old intronet and check the results from Friday's stage. Sure enough,there I am finishing with the lead group. Damn, I'm pretty good. I hope I do that good in the following stages- my teammate is expecting a payout.
To complicate, appreciate, anticipate and deviate even more, yesterday I get a call from another one of my teammates and he starts reading me the above Velonews article. I never knew not racing would be so much fun. Just think how much fun it must be for the guys who do it for real- and on someone else's nickel.

Reasons I hate clowns

I have hated clowns for a long time. I know I'm not the only one who hates clowns. I think they're hiding something behind that makeup- whatever it is they're hiding is something bad. Here's an example of clowns hurting someone.

I'm not even sure this picture is appropriate for this blog. That's sick! Sick clowns!

A slow news day?

this is news?
Man, if that's news, I have front page stuff to report on a daily basis. For instance, between 2nd and 3rd hour today, while I'm standing in the hall "supervising", a kid slaps another kid on the back of the neck for no reason. Just reaches out and lays the smack down. It was loud too. Like snapping a towel. As you can probably guess the slapper got sent to ISS. The "slappie" fell to the floor crying and holding his neck. Now I don't know if he was putting on a show or what, but I can say he wound up getting picked up by his parents and taken to the hospital because he apparently couldn't turn his head.
Or how about this: There were so many kids in ISS today it was standing room only. It was a record for the time I'm in there. We've had it full, but never standing room only.
We have 9.5 days of school left.
We're having a party at our place on the 20th. If you're reading this you're invited: Butthead, Greenbeans, Bolt-on, Peeps of CX, Mr. Trek Rep, and of course those who got an invitation in the mail. I know some of your are racing, but some of you aren't. If you are racing- reconsider. Racing is overrated and costs too much. You look like a sissy in those tight shorts and no one wants to see your manscape in lycra. Parties are underrated and the stories that come from good parties are better than the best racing stories.
That's the news.

A Rainbow of Redneck color

Columbia is a strange town. We're small enough to have big redneck hics and big enough to have enough diversity that lots of people feel good about hanging the rainbow coalition flag outside their door. It seems on some rides you experince all the rednecks- screaming at you, sometimes throwing beer bottles, screaming at you, swerving towards you, screaming at you... I hate those rides. I get home feeling lucky to be alive. Then somedays it's like every one you encounter is waving and smiling like you're some friend of theirs. I don't know what determines one day from the next on who you're going to meet up with, but a couple of days ago I got the ultimate mix.
I'm out riding, everything going fine, and I had just turned into a nice tailwind. All of a sudden I look up and there's a monster truck 4X4 in my lane headed straight for me. It was close enough I was just about to take the ditch when he swerved back to his side. So as he passed I did what I shouldn't do and gave him the finger. He and his buddy were smiling and laughing. I guess he didn't realize that "shit happens" and although he probably didn't have any true intention of hitting me, he could have easily killed me with a small miscalculation of throttle or wheel. That's like putting a gun to your head that you're 100% sure isn't loaded and blowing your brains out. Oops! So I was pissed and reacted. Probably a mistake because I quickly realized he could easily turn around and come back for the kill since I had nowhere to hide or run. It was just open ground. I kept riding and looking over my shoulder and decided I better get off the road. I hopped on the trail and started making my way home. It was cool because I hadn't been on the trail since winter. I'm just riding along and thinking about the incident when I notice my ride is getting really comfortable and cushy. Mostly flat tired feel that way. I wasn't worried or pissed at this point. I was just happy to be alive- besides, I wasn't far from town and I was just crusing at this point. I pull over and start to change my flat. Tools out, wheel off, in the shade. The first flat I've had on this particular bike. I'm in the middle of pulling out the flat tube when I hear, "Hey, you got a problem?" I'm thinking, "By words, that sounds like it could be a redneck with a tire iron ready to bash in my head. But the tone says, "Need some help?"" I look up and it's the freakin' Mayor of Columbia. Just an aside- have you ever noticed he looks like Alfred E. Neuman? Not making fun of him- just an observation. To make a long story longer, he just checked to see if I needed anything. I told him I had what I needed and thanks- so he rolled on. Nice of him to stop though huh? Columbia has it all.

Yo Blahbo In Ma Blago

Don't even trip. New and improved. I just keep laughing at the name. My Bike Sucks was played out and Dan changed Your Bike Sucks, so I had to venture out on my own.
I only have a minute, but I can tell one quicky: I'm sitting here in ISS as usual for 5th hour, and one of the kids in here got three days ISS for calling another kid, "Hot Dog Neck!" Apparently, if you tilt your head back and make the skin roll up, it looks like a pack of hot dogs.