Thursday, 7 May 2009


A strain to my left ring finger marked the early end of tonight session. Sadly, because the vibes were great, with a good bunch of friends giving their best on each other's problems. Nothing serious, I know, but obviously I immediately got very sad because I couldn't play with my friends anymore.
I resolved to do three series of 4 one armers with some help from one finger, then a few front levers and I came home.
Next sunday should see a big posse head to Amiata Top for some brushing and pulling. I hope to be fully recovered and with loaded guns.
The last note goes to the last idiots that I started to meet during my daily bike commute: these idiots spend the entire winter in gyms, doing lots of cardio and probably spinning, so when the sun comes out in april, they feel the urge to use their dust covered bikes. Sadly they also need to prove, in the streets, that they are fitter than you, and they can go faster. Usually these troglodites sport technical gadgets, like special clips to keep their pants off the chain, or super hybrid bikes, with a road bike frame, big tires, a flat handlebar, super sylicones saddle, 3x7 gears and so on. Their pleasure is in finding another biker, with an average bike sans gears, and a bag on the back, and speed in front of him. Sometimes I am that other biker.
Well, this is what I think about the bike-idiots: you are a sad bunch of idiots, who spend 300 euros a month to go to the coolest gym in town, where you can park your Porsche in a safe place, but you lack the balls to use your transexual bikes in full winter, sun or rain, hot or cold; you come out when spring is fully blown and the totty is sweaty. (Oh I love spring!).
The most pathetic thing, though, is that you may think you are fitter. Ha! on the gym's swedish parquets maybe, on the flat roads of the city centre maybe.
I bet you have never experienced the adrenaline of spendig a near 0° clear february morning going up and down on steep Tuscan hills. Well, I have spent my youth on a bike, and with some dedication: at 16 I could leg press 135 kilos.
Therefor, you idiots out there, beware. I can still kick your fatty ass out of the saddle.
Here's to the totty, anyway.

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