Flat out on my ASSsss
I’ve been having a bit of an ‘on my ass’ kinda week
Wednesday I was thinking about how productive I had been. All because I had fixed the broken railing on the porch. Ohh, Good for me, I fixed the railing that I broke off trying to sneak quietly in sometime early Monday morning. Of course once the railing pulled off the porch, I promptly found myself … on my ass in the garden.
Then I decided that I should go and fix the Mountain bike. I say the because it isn’t mine – though after doing humpty dumpty with it down the steep rocky hill towards the Deschutes river, the parts which where once the saddle are now mine. Fixing the saddle and mountain bicycle was not successful, though the blood did wash off my helmet fine.
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A friend of mine told me the other day that ‘not everyone has the self confidence that you have Nat’. The funny thing is that she was referring to the one (and of course only) time that I dressed up in heels and a skirt…. Or was it the time that I spent the after noon trying to do cartwheels on my ‘bad side’ because my friends 7 year old was bragging that she could do them both ways.
My point? When you are showing a 10 year old to ollie her skateboard, you should have protective gear, because yardsailing on my ass/ elbo in the driveway hurts. I am not sure, myself, but being a lame ass wall flower is never any fun, and now I can do cartwheels on one and a half sides.
Plus Kurt’s Mom now has nightmares from the pictures of me playing cowgirl….
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Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy…. Beerooow Whatever
Cowboy:
Q: What are you if you are wearing a Stetson, cowboy boots, and driving a $40 000 pickup truck?
A: A redneck.
Q:If you have farm with some cows on it?
A: You=re still just a redneck.
Cowboys are tough mo=fo=s They=re a Man=s Man, living outdoors, getting their work done in rain or shine. Traveling with their steed to where the work is.
Yeah I’m a fricken’ Cow Boy, on a Steel Surly I ride… Nope I’m not really a cowboy, though I certainly portray the sprit of one much more than the yahoos driving around in their jacked up 4×4’s flipping me off because I’m wearing spandex.
If you want to see a real cowboy drive south until the Pemex Stations end.
When you have to pull over to the side of the road because you’re in the way of the oxen cart – then you’re in cowboy country.
When you wake up at 5am from the noise of people hand winching buckets of water up to start cooking the day’s food. Decide that even though the sun won’t be up for another hour, you’ll start cooking breakfast anyhow in the dusty dirt, because that’s what everyone else is doing - then you’re on cowboy land.
What am I doing now Friday and Saturday Nights? Punked, on my ass, baby-sitting a hot-dog eating 4.5 year old. K-C’s out for a date and fish burritos.
Snowball
Whenever did I decide to break form, become retro and start buying %$#%^@ drinks? Bleh
Serves me right.
Fanmail: faatnaat (at) hotmail (dot) com
PS people keep asking/ telling me to get on with racing, so I’ll probably try that ooot next.
