Muddy is a Fried Turkey

Cross season is nearly over. One more weekend of the US Grand Prix where I'll race a supporting race, not the main event. I'm no where good enough for that business. A bro told me over the internet earlyier this year that I should try all the categories I fall under. I've ridden Master 50+, Beginner, Single Speed, etc and have found good qualities in each but the fact is I end up in about the same place no matter what cat I race. The good news is I feel less like a shock when I jog, I can ride faster than I have since I started after the surgery and I really dig this cyclocross thig. it's a good group of folks, some knotheads but for the most part their all cool, well respecting kids having clean healthy fun. There's a internet forum I've been particualry fond of and some good trash talk about dude's bein sandbaggers and tools. It's pretty funny and I've spent way too much time doing that.

I've been hankerin for a fried bird and sweet potato pie for T-day since I cleaned up the diet. I figured a little wouldn't hurt for celebration sake and so it was, me fryin the bird in the midst of the Coho wind that pounds our neck of town. The damned wind kept messing with the fry job though and I ended up with burn marks all over my friggin arms from oil poppin then gettin flown at me as the wind howled. I started trying to clean out the patio last week but with the El-C and Chris's half repair job spread out makin us lookall ghetto I had my work cut out to make room to fry the bird and not burn the place down.

The family dinner is always a show because the kids have to explain thier whoes before being thankful for things like boyfriends not breaking parole or for me not kicking their asses after they tear free cars apart all over the yard and leave Muddy's tools out for every friggin crack head to swipe off the lawn.

The whole family says they want to come to the GP but their gonna be disapointed cuz they think it'll be like going to Woodburn for the races there.