I of course had to read Mark Trail again today to see where this lesbian thing was going.  It went nowhere.  Apparently, she was just getting ready to spook a horse and make it throw its rider.  That’s not hot.  That’s not hot at all.

So I guess I’ll have to turn to Nancy whose Aunt Fritzi would make Silly Putty melt.

And here’s a little bonus for those of you into ropes:

I’m not a regular reader of Mark Trail, but the images of 1950’s women caught my attention today. Glad they did, because this is perhaps the most awesome Mark Trail ever!

Granted, I read this comic without the benefit of a contextual story arch, but all the better my friend. All the better.

I laugh every time I get to the lone question mark speech bubble. It really couldn’t end any other way.

Last September, I submitted three photos to the Bike Philly photo contest.  They’ve never announced the winners (first prize was a Fuji bike).

But that doesn’t mean they haven’t used the photos.

One of my submissions first showed up in an official Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia document.  Then it showed up on their blog.  And now?  Now it’s the header graphic of their registration page for Bike Philly 2008.

So did I win the contest?  No clue.  They’ve also never said when they would be announcing the winners.  There was some mention that they would reveal the winners at a volunteer meeting, but I didn’t have time to drive to Philly to attend just that meeting.

There’s no denying that I am a ravenous little fanboy for VH1’s “I Love The *” series of programs.  I love the 70’s?  Hell yes.  I love the 80’s?  Who doesn’t?  And I definitely loved the 90’s.  The 90’s were good to me.

There’s also no denying that I’ve watched all those shows.  Each season has one show per year of the related decade.  So yes, shows for ‘70, ‘71, ‘72, ‘73, et cetera.  And then they came out with Volume 2 of each season just to hook me more!  For the love of god, all the backgrounds animations were TRON inspired for the 80’s Vol 2 shows.

But now they went and ruined it.  “I Love The New Millennium” started up tonight, and it’s absolutely no fun to get nostalgic about events less than 10 years old.  What fun is saying, “Oh man, I totally remember that!” when you remember it because it happened last year?  That’s not nostalgia.  That’s just boring.

So sorry VH1, you pushed it too far.  If you needed to go back to the well, a Volume 3 would have been nice.  Or maybe just bring back Pop Up Video.

Interesting side note, Brandy learned what a “muffin top” is by watching the New Millennium shows.

A couple weeks ago, I took a good chunk of my library into Webster’s for cash.  Before boxing them all up, I decided to rifle through and make sure there weren’t any old bits of paper and such between the pages.

Wouldn’t you know it, stuck in a copy of Conduct Unbecoming was a prize voucher from QuakeCon ‘97.

I guess there’s very little chance of claiming my prize now.

In the early hours this morning as I fell in and out of sleep, I had one of those dreams that seems bizarre but really has understandable depth.  It went as follows…

I was standing at the end of a sidewalk that was perpendicular to a 30 foot wide stream.  For whatever reason, I was simply watching the water rush by and contemplating my life.  Just as I crouched low to look into the water, six people in white ceremonial garb waded down the stream in my direction, swishing nets from side to side.  There were two men, one boy, one girl, and two women.

While watching the women, as I am wont to do, the men approached me and one of them said, “You look weary, as though life has worn your spirits.  Perhaps we can help you with that.”  He then handed me a packet that looked almost exactly like the white packets that hold the powdered cheese in a box of mac and cheese.

I examined the packet which had printed upon it a set of directions.  Key to the use of this packet was that the person using it had to mix the contents with his own masturbatory ejaculate.  The mixture was then to be applied to the skin.

I looked at the men and said, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Then Brandy’s alarm clock went off, saving me from having to spank it into a mac and cheese packet.

So where’s the depth here, one might ask.  I can only guess that this dream is telling me that the flow of happiness in my life comes from masturbating but that I’d rather not get it on my skin.  This probably isn’t too far from the truth.

And now you know.

I was out on a bit of ride today and nearly got plowed by a driver who couldn’t be bothered to look to see if anyone was crossing the intersection.

Fortunately, I was also playing with a new acquisition: an Oregon Scientific ATC2K helmet cam (though mounted to the front of my bike, not my helmet). There’s nothing entertaining about some shaky video of me nearly getting hit, so here’s a slightly modified version:

The Speedmachine and I spent a lovely day on the Lower Trail, biking 32 miles in what can only be described as the heat that might drip from the testicles of Mephistopheles.  Or would those be testopheles?  No, I guess not.  Apparently testopheles is the name of a half blind cat with big nuts.

Big nuts notwithstanding, the ride went well overall though it did start off shakily.  This was my first ride on the Speedmachine and first extended ride on a two-wheeled recumbent.  It took me about 15 miles to get used to starting, stopping, and steering.  Aye, she’s a twitchy bitch.  Once I loosened my death grip on the handles, things got much better.

I was hoping the more reclined angle of the seat would reduce the numbness problems I’ve had with the Catrike.  After 15 miles, my toes go all tingly and require a rest stop to restore blood flow.  Same thing with the Speedmachine, though since I wasn’t clipped in, I was able to adjust my foot position to move pressure to a new area.  Doing so usually resulted in thigh cramps after a few miles.

My average speed was about 12MPH, which isn’t stellar, but I wasn’t expecting fireworks for my first long ride of the season on a bike lacking familiarity.  On the paved portions of the trail, I was easily pulling 15-16MPH.

So the two big questions are: do I like it; will I ride it in the rally.  Yes and yes.  I still need to get it out this week for some rides up and down hills.  I need to know what my climbing performance is like before I try to take it on a 33 mile road route this Sunday.

I have no patience.  If I did, I’d be making myself an origami Balrog (link goes to PDF).