
plus
equals
It's on.
Still Slow After All These Years...
I don't know who she is, but I know it's not your wife and I'm pretty sure it's not your mom. I'm not even sure where to begin with this one, so I'm going to have to lean heavily on my 6 loyal readers (yes, it's grown like wildfire) to throw down a caption in the comments ala the one and only (and arguably my favorite website in existence)....HCWDB. Someone, please caption this thing. I'm the judge, and the winner gets a stale box of Clif Bars and a race t-shirt that likely won't fit. It's not often that I reach out for crowd participation, but fuck. I think I just short circuited somewhere between the Motorola clipped to the Olympic polo, the shades, the earpiece, and the tounge stuck out like you just hit that shit. All of which has been capured by (or simply offered to) the AJC. I should be in bed right now. But I'm not. And D, it's your fault. Sometimes I find shit, and sometimes it finds me. I didn't go looking for this one.
CBrown, Super Pooper, Pooperman- whatever you want to call him- he's on a hot streak. He's poopin' good. He's poopin' better than good. He's poopin' great....again. In fact, he must've shat himself twice last Saturday night. Two crits, two starts, two wins. The guy has won the last four races he's started. I think that's more than I've won in my entire life of bike racing. Please note that I say life, not career. Careers are for professionals.