Things People Say Fridays #11: Bike Path Trash Talk

The time: Early May 2013.

The Place: London, Ontario.

The Battle: Hill climbing supremacy.

The Protagonists: Awesome. 

Hey, find your inner Annabelle and have a great weekend!

R A N T W I C K

Must Share Video, Again!

Wow! That is all.



 

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K

Poo Ladder Plus!

I don't know how to introduce this bit of my damn awesome life. Just read on, I guess!

 

I needed to use an extension ladder to get at a 2nd floor air conditioner at my house. Surveying the back yard, I saw a few dog poos. I scooped 'em, not wanting to bring the ladder out with them around.

 

I ascended the ladder and did my work. Little did I know, I had stepped in dog poop before doing so. I got to discover that terrible fact by descending the ladder, putting my hands on the poo my shoe had deposited on the way up. Yes. It was awesome.

 

Thankfully, the same dog that made the poo that ruined my day (and my ladder) also loves me AND CAN TELL ME SO!

 

 

 

For those of you who are only about cycling, please note that my Chico sessions feature me in cycling shoes after my PM commute. That's all I got.

 

 

Pity me. Envy me. Both apply!

R A N T W I C K

Must Share Video

Thanks to Byron at bikehugger.com for posting this before me. Danny Mac is still my favourite, but that doesn't make this any less awesome.





 

Good Lord. How Do these guys do that? How?

R A N T W I C K

Mental Junk Drawer

Fire drills at work still make me want a smoke. That's what a person does when forced outside for a fire drill. (I was a pack a day smoker, quit 13 years ago and have had minor struggles in recent years. I'm good now though).

 

When you go to the Library and don't really know what you feel like reading, you kind of have to read a book by its cover. (Quote by Rantwick girl the younger)

Why the hell does my phone send me a text message to tell me I have a voicemail? I DON'T UNDERSTAND. The phone already has voicemail notification thing. The text is redundant and annoying.

 

"... a Can not a Can't"? Really? So lame. Also, I hate it when companies try to brand their activities as some sort of thread in our National fabric. You're an Canadian oil company using "Canadian" tech to get the oil that's hard to get. Good for you. Combines? Snowblowers? The Last Spike? Good grief. http://youtu.be/j0vYTFve7tA

That's it. Have outstanding weekends, everybody!

 

 

 

 

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K

London Ontario Cyclist Profile: Beard Guy

Hey all! I've been riding my bicycle to work every day as usual here in London Ontario, but haven't felt creative about the blog lately. That appears to be changing a little. I am pleased to announce a whole new post series, London Ontario Cyclist Profile! In this series I will be presenting completely fictional interviews with some of the real cycling characters I meet on the bike path or street.

 

If one day you see yourself in this series, the only way to disabuse people of my outrageous notions regarding you and your life will be to contact me and answer the interview questions yourself. Or just ask me to take down my heinous guesses at your life story. Whichever. I like option one better though, don't you? Way funner. Yes, funner. Oh, you don't like that? Well, "more fun" then. Happy? Happy you dominated my writing style with your "proper" English uptightedness? Yes, uptightedness! You *hole... how could you? I thought we were friends!

Anyway, in this the first of what may be many London Ontario Cyclist Profiles, we feature a person who rides often, because I ride often and I often see him. Like, often. In my mind I just call him "Beard Guy":

 

 

Interview Time!

 

 

RW: Hey, Beard Guy! What's your real name?

 

BG: Otis MacGregor!

 

RW: Wow, great name. Any relation to the inventor of the "Safety Elevator"?

 

BG: Otis is my first name, you idiot. Elisha Otis has nothing to do with me or my family.

 

RW: Beg pardon, really. I suffer from a speaking before thinking thing. Tell me, how long did it take you to grow that awesome red beard?

 

BG: I don't know. A while.

 

RW: Well, it is pretty damn nice. May I touch it?

 

BG: No way, you freak! Interview over, weirdo.

 

RW: Wait! Wait... I'll stop with the beard fixation, I promise. Tell me, have you always been a big bike rider?

 

BG: No, not any more than most. As a kid I always loved to ride my bike, but it is only in the last couple years that I stopped driving my Monster Truck (GuzzleMageddon II) and started taking my vintage 10 Speed to work and back. I really like it.

 

RW: I'll bet! Cycling rocks. Hey! Any hobbies?

 

BG: Lemme think... I like growing cacti. The more painful to the touch the better. Also I'm an amateur awesome bike path photo model.

 

 click pic for big version

 

RW: Hey, you're very good at that! Job?

 

BG: I am a physics professor at UWO. No tenure or anything like that, of course; I'm still young. I'm hoping to publish soon, a study on "darquarks" that might win me the Nobel. Dark Matter Quarks, man. Its enough to blow anyone's mind.

 

RW: Huh? You lost me there.

 

BG: Don't worry, I get that a lot.

 

RW: Tell me one more thing about yourself, something that nobody would ever guess.

 

BG: Hang on, let me think. Sh*t, I don't know, man. I'm a pretty open book. Maybe that I once saw a meteor hit the earth? I think I did, anyway. I was pretty high on those tiny cinnamon flavoured hearts at the time. I must have eaten like 300 of those things.

 

RW: OK then! Otis, thank you for talking to me today. I hope I continue to see you out riding that bike!

 

BG: Oh, you will. Riding my bike is the like the best thing I do now. I would go totally mental without that daily ride, you know?

 

RW: Believe me, I know. I really really do. Thanks again!

 

-- end of fake interview --

 

 

 

Mwahh ha ha haaaa! I am going to totally enjoy doing more of these. Remember, the above interview is totally fake and for stupidity purposes only. If you are "Beard Guy", aka Otis MacGregor, drop me a line! It would be awesome to hear from the real you!

 

 

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K

Holy Snap I'm Slow. And a big LIAR!

Remember how I did this tree contest thing forever ago and some people won prizes and stuff? I finally put together the packages and they're ready to ship. The prizes are not as promised, however. I am a stinking liar. The best syrup I could come up with this year was good old Medium. The breadcrumbs I promised turned out to have expired and were thrown out. At least I made good on the crappy homemodified trophy...

 

 

 

 

Congrats again to Josh, with an honourable mention for RCT. On May 8, 2013, my 2012 Autumn Tree Smackdown is finally over. It took me so long it has given me pause about doing 4ARATS, the 4th Annual Rantwick Autumn Tree Smackdown. I know myself, however. Come Fall I will begin checking on the King of Autumn and begin wondering how your trees are looking, and God Help Me, I'll have to do it again.

 

Yer Procrastinational Pal,

R A N T W I C K

PS - Procrastinational is not a real word (I don't think). I have unilaterally decided to stop caring what words are real and use any I feel like. That may drive some of you crazy, but you'll just have to find your inner relaxitude.

Blog Spaz

Lately some of my efforts, those directed at this blog included, have been less than coordinated. I wish I was writing more... once again I stand in awe of those who manage to do it nearly every day. I find myself instead jerkily moving from one almost random task to the next. Not moving like a jerk (I don't think), but rather with rapid, clumsy activity rather than well planned productivity. I have long been kind of ADD that way (I lost the H somewhere in my 30s), but it has seemed worse to me lately. Now it would seem my nervous system is getting in on the act:

A few days ago my hand just didn't follow commands and did this jerky clunk thing. It couldn't have taken more than a tenth of a second, but oh, the carnage! You see, I was scooping ground coffee into a coffee machine at  the time...

When I decided to write this post about this little calamity, all I could think of to call myself was a spaz. Does anyone say "spaz" anymore? If so, should they? I mean, it is based on the word spastic... I worked for and became very close friends with a young man who was "spastic quadriplegic" many years ago; leaves me feeling a little bit guilty when I use it now.

I remain hopeful that I will start updating this blog more often again, with better content than stupid snapshots of my minor failures and too frequent whining about how little time I have to write. Wish me luck for your own sake, you awesome oft-suffering reader of mine.

Yer Spaz,

R A N T W I C K