Wednesday, April 26, 2006

You are still a whisper on my lips
A feeling on my fingertips
That's pulling at my skin
Days go by and still I think of you

I caught some shit for my sweet bike today.

Somebody asked me if I was going to deliver some milk.


Perhaps I should remove the crate.

But I think it gives it a certain je'nais se quos... a little panache, élan, sass...

Then again, maybe it just cements my status as a complete tool. Toolmaster of Bozeman, even.

Someone else asked me if I wanted to go for a bike ride in Yellowstone this weekend. Maybe when he sees the bike, he will change his mind.

I need to do something like that, though. India and I were discussing the fact that I need some new adventures and novel experiences to make this blog a little more interesting. India (jokingly?) suggested that maybe I should start dating. We had a good laugh over that one... because I am nothing if not smoove.

Can't you tell by my bike?


Blogger Motor City Monk said...

Aesthetically speaking - I'd have to recommend you go with a black milk crate.

1:03 PM  
Anonymous Fred Shero said...

The hit man in the cult favorite "The Professional" was fond of drinking whole milk.

5:05 PM  

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