Oh, so THATs where the perineum is located!
A couple of dear friends gave me a bicycle for my birthday a couple years back. I knew I’d written them a thank you note about my first few experiences with that damn thing but I just discovered I never posted the thank you note here. So, here it is:
Dear C & W,
Thanks for your thoughtful and generous gift of my new 24-speed trail bike.
Well, today I resumed a healthy way of life. I was out of bed at 5:30 AM and soon was wheeling my new bicycle out to the street, in the dark, where I looked her over as it had been decades since I last rode a bike.
It took a bit of time for me to figure out how to turn the flashing strobe headlight on and when I did, I was unfortunately looking directly into it! Blinded, I felt my way to the seat and tentatively climbed aboard and circled around the street in front of my house for a few minutes, getting the hang of shifting the gears while I waited for the huge white spot burned into my retina to subside. After a few minutes, I enthusiastically set off for my destination, Starbucks, a few miles away.
As I encountered my first hill, I thanked God you two had the foresight to give me a bike with 24 speeds as I downshifted to the lowest one to meet the small hill’s challenge … Unfortunately, at the lowest speed my legs spun wildly, knocking the chain off the sprocket.
Twenty minutes later, I had it back on and, with greasy fingers, I climbed aboard again. I missed a few more shifts searching for the lower gears and to give myself more time to find them, I circled around downhill … four times.
Finally, I found the lowest gear and confidently re-attacked the hill. After an eternity (but what was only a forty-five second assault), I was half-way up the hill, breathing like a dog in heat, while my manly legs transitioned to Silly-Putty.
Winded and cranky, I dismounted and pushed the bike up the remainder of the small hill. As I crested the top, I was passed by some guy who must have been 92-years old, all decked out in those fancy clip-on shoes and a heavy-duty bike helmet and who had CLIMBED THE HILL IN HIGH GEAR! 
As he passed me as I was trundling along, he had the balls to say, what I’m sure he thought was an encouraging word … “You’re doing GREAT!”
“Fuck you, die you old fart fuck peckerhead sonofabitch! I hope Lance Armstrong runs over your wrinkly ass!” I thought.
After he was out of sight, I attempted to re-mount my bike but my legs were so rubbery I could only accomplish it by laying the bike down on the street, grabbing my right thigh with both hands, and swinging my leg over the bike, like a side of pork; which resulted in me straddling the bike. Then, by leaning down, grabbing the bike and drawing it up into my crotch, I was re-mounted (you should pardon the expression!)
As I stood at the top of the hill, I turned to see how far I’d come, you know, in an effort to replenish my severely depleted enthusiasm.
As I turned, I looked straight into the blue eyes of this 20-something year-old athletic beauty on a 10-speed, who also just climbed the hill in high gear, who was so kind and caring to ask …
“Are you Ok, do you need any help?”
“Fuck you, you Bambi bitch,” I said to myself. “No, I’m fine, I just lost a chain as I was taking* the hill,” said I, trying to regulate my breath out of the squeaky zone as I showed her my greasy fingers like a 6-year old looking for approval. (*Note how I threw that manly word in there, "taking"? Yeah, that hill beat me like a bitch!)
Finally, she left me alone … whimper
Again I turned to see how far I’d come, clearing the sweat from my eyes and squinting … finally, there it was, my house … 3 blocks back!
“Can’t be,” I thought. With all this pain and sweat, I must have traveled farther than that! I checked my watch, 31 minutes! Three blocks in 31 minutes and I was a mess!
Finally arriving at Starbucks after passing (or being passed) by far too many runners and bicyclists who greeted me with a cheerful, “Good Morning,” I thought to myself, “fuck you all, just die!”
At Starbucks, I dismounted using the same technique; you know, laying the bike down and stepping over it.
The cute Starbucks girl wanted to know if I wanted a fritter with my large coffee … my stomach retched at the thought of anything entering it, let alone a fritter.
I got my coffee, put it down on the table with my newspaper, and then went to the bathroom where I used $300 in paper towels to wipe off the sweat.
An hour later, it was time for the return trip. I searched for a new way home so that I could avoid all hills, which resulted in adding ½ mile to the distance and furthered my rubbery leg condition.
At home, exhausted, I propped the bike against the house and used the “Old man rail” to assist me up the three stairs into my house. I went to my computer to Google something about this strange pain I was feeling in my groin.
Oh, so THAT’s where the perineum is located!
Seriously C & W, I am truly grateful for your thoughtful gift. I actually included you in my nightly prayers, thanking God for sending me such loving friends as you two who are so concerned for my health and well-being. While I was in prayer, I also asked God not to send me any more loving and caring friends as I cannot take the pain.
But really, (this is serious now) I really do want to thank you for your gift because, if it weren’t for getting involved with cycling, I never would have become involved with a wonderful charity headed by a neighbor woman who lives across the street. Every Saturday, as a fund raiser for the charity, she washes bikes for $5 bucks in her front yard, just off the bike path … and for $20 bucks, she lets me take pictures of her doing it.
*wiggles eyebrows*
Now where’s my blood pressure cuff?
Your thankful friend,
Nunzio
27,349
haha! Happy Monday morning! 😀
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Hilarious. Seems like almost everyone I know is an avid biker. One of my friend’s husbands just did the Paris-Brest race which is some ridiculous 700 mile thing. Insanity! I relate more to the “swinging my leg over the bike like a side of pork”. Think I laughed so hard I cried at that one. I HATE biking, unless it’s on a completely flat surface and I’m using my lovely old antique bike (cont.)
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picture something very french and me in a short, diaphanous dress, predaling home from the bakery with a fresh baguette in the basket.
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LOL! I love your stories.
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Thanks for my first smile of the day. This illustrated story is a doozie!
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LOL! I needed that this morning. 🙂
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Don’t give up, Nunzio, you CAN master that bike. Willy
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hahaha I love yout title, very catchy! There is nothing more humbling than trying to bike up a hill when you are so out of shape as we are! 😉
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A great entry…..and wonderful pics of good looking females. What more could a male reader ask for.
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Thanks for the laugh
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I used to love biking. Then some ass stole my bike and the replacement wasn’t as good…and I never really got into it again. 🙁
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You are a RIOT! LOL! Very entertaining 🙂 RYN: I Thank you and my ego thanks you….your kind words brought tears to my eyes.
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RYN: The key events leading to my current status in life are not yet posted in “Dreads & Dreams”. Condensed version- factory bought out and closed, September 2008; apartment rent raised by 50%, March 2009. So yeah, going on three years for the current lifestyle. And come on man, get back on the bike!
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Very well put together….
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ryn: Thank you, Nunz. That. Note. Rocked! 😉
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RYN I meant the entry, but yes, the hotties too I guess 🙂
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mmmm white shorts girl is hawt!!!!
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The girl in the white shorts is very brave! ryn: Which of my future exes were you referring to?
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every woman who’s had an OB/GYN exam can locate that area of sensitivity. it’s often found with a cold speculum.:/
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(Pesky, “Friends Only” limitations.)^ Well Pelican baby, I’m here to help you avoid that cold speculum. Well … that is, if you are a girl pelican! 😉
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Hahaha I loved this 🙂
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I thought that area was called the Taint….taint this, and taint that.
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RYN: The van is legal and parked legal on the street. I’ve been parked in the same spot for a year now. It’s mobile, just no reason to move it. Since I’ve been living in the van no one has ever approached the van for any reason. Nobody sees anything anymore. They’re too busy looking at screens?
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ryn: lol, that’s fine. thanks for reading, i tend to think I’m boring and when someone follows me its nice to know.
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hahaha wow this is just how i feel every time i try to get on a bike.
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ryn: on the contrary, amigo – that was done completely on the dragon. With the exception of posting the header, footer and picture.
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ryn: Thank you.
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ryn: If you weren’t on the opposite coast I’d have those stillettos on by now. 😉
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ryn: If you weren’t on the opposite coast I’d have those stillettos on by now. 😉
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Hahaha. Sorry. Should I leave it again, just to be sure you get it? Could have used you today – needed another one of those massages.
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HILARIOUS!! ryn: LOLOL you THINK you did?? sugar if we had ever dated I guarantee it would be forever etched in your memory!
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Ryn….yeah, I just don’t know if I can risk losing my diary! I’d be really sad. :'(
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That tumblr is a great idea! I’m gonna do that and see if I can upload stuff from my phone. I’ll let you know. I’ll try to do it now.
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I can barely type this without laughing out loud. This was the funniest shit! RYN: I am glad u liked what I wrote! 🙂 Now at ease soldier! 😉
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r. thank you so much 🙂
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What with the bling, the fake tans, the sideways ball cap and the PBR they should head over to the nearest parlor and have an “L” tattooed on their foreheads.
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You’re not a fan of encouragement, are you? 😉
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I love the way you look at things!! I also think you can master the bike!! xxx
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RYN: Ha! That’s an interesting article. Never did I think someone would actually know where that sign was. Thank you!
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Ryn: I wasn’t racial profiling with the dago comment! Lol, I felt it ok to say it because he says it. P.s. he’s talks jus like dat!
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Thank you SO much for leaving your note on my diary, about SSG Shilo Harris. I feel so lucky to have met him!
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re: yes, you beat out Duke (be proud), p.s. added one additional pic, however, I am clothed 🙂
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ryn: permission granted! I’m my very own magic Genie!
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ryn: Jet went down in the chocks.
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Ryn: thanks. Hoping to do so. Gonna meet a fellow OD and paint the town. 😉
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I love how u write 😉 by the way if we were friends at that time, Id have beat her up for ya ;D.
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LOL..!!! you are crazy..!!!
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RYN: *grin* Really? That was soooo tame. I appreciate the feedback, though. Thank you!
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Thank you for the poem. It’s just great!
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I’m an Italian Irish Taurus too!!
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True. You aroused my attention
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Ryn: I wrote on my iPhone and have no idea why it turned some words blue. Btw you get soooooo many notes!!!!
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I had no idea you were so susceptible to cupcakes.
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ryn: lol I’ll let Ashley know of your generous offer – she hasn’t had it removed yet so you may be in luck. aw love I’m worthy of your private collection? really? sure darlin…I’ll visit you in your dreams = )
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r. i’m flattered. thank you 🙂
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It is a great part. Sam Shepard writes(wrote) amazing scripts, but somehow me being naturally akin to the character is probably not the healthiest thing. Lol. I think you’re right and I can channel every bad relationship into it and come up with a really fun character. The play itself is a lot steamier than the trailer implies. (Oh God… and here’s the panic again…)
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Now, about those boots…maybe “graceful” was the wrong word. I was on the fence about that on. This is going become the Great Boot Debate of 2011, isn’t it? I know you and Duke (ok, most men) have some sort of switch that get’s flipped when you see stillettos. What’s going on with that? If it’s not the movement, or the line, and it really is the design, what’s it connecting to?
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Three minutes in those boots and I would totally change your mind about them. And stiletto heels or not, if they’re the right boots, I’m keeping them ON. 😉
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r. thank you so much! as always 🙂
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ryn: Everything. And anything. 😉
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ryn: Of all the things I could have imagined obstructing my access to nipples – Christmas ornaments weren’t even on the radar!
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ryn: I have never understood the French preoccupation with delta wing jets. They are really only good for one thing: going fast. The Tac-wing sequences are cool.
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ryn: yeah, it kills me to be labeled as “mature” but i suppose there’s no getting around it. every once in a while, if for no other reason than providing a little self-contrast, i suppose i am…uh, mature. just don’t go advertising it, okay? it would be best if we could all acknowledge and appreciate it, but not dwell on it and pretend that it’s a side of me that doesn’t exist. Thanks!
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Thanks for a great laugh. I stick to my exercise bike because last time I took my road bike out I fell off it once stationary; thankfully onto the footpath and not the road, but it was a humiliating experience!
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Reading a book called “House of Holes” by Nicholas Baker. It’s sort of surreal, literary porn. You might like it….I”m not sure. It’s a bit odd, but strangely intriguing. The back cover blurb describes it as a “modern-day Hieronymus Boschian bacchanal set in a pleasure resort where normal rules don’t apply.” I should send you and Duke copies. We could start a book club.
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Or you can just pick up a copy and imagine me reading it aloud to you while wearing nothing but a gossamer shift and sky-high heels. 😉
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RYN: Thanks for that tip off. Honestly, I’d have no problem with how he runs his business paperwork if he could just show some growth on the customer service front. I wish he’d get more admins to help since he’s so hand’s off. at least the users would feel more supported until the bank runs dry.
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very hot profile photo.
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ryn: A hundred rewinds! Oh how you underestimate me. I crawled up that perfect leather clad leg to that tight butt in slow-mo at least two hundred times! ryon: Where do you find these diarists? On the beach?
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