About Me

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San Clemente, CA, United States

Friday, August 13, 2010

Personalized Plates

I hate you. I hate you for so many reasons, but today, I hate you because of your personalized plates.

Here are some of the plates I've seen around.

SXYBLND No. I saw you. You are not Sexy. I know these things because I am not sexy and I am sexier than you. Therefore, by the "squeeze theorem" in mathematics, you can not be sexy and you cannot have that plate.

MYMINI Thank goodness you have that plate. You never know when you will be parked in a row of fire engine red, convertible Mini Coopers. Phew, this one must be mine. It says my mini. You idiot.

LUANN This plate was on a car driven by a guy. I laughed at first thinking he was driving the girlfriends car. Then the car gave it away. This is a guy's car. It had an oldschool lift, big music, rims. This was his car. This guy named his car. What a loser.

SS GUY We get it. The S's are dollar signs. I bet you were a mortgage banker. I hope you feel pretty good now that you've lost that job. Or, you're just telling everyone you are rich. Moron.

08VETTE I'll give you that the car is smoking. You win. But 08? Cmon, save it for like a 67VETTE. 08?

I hate everyone

The bike

About 4 months ago I decided I needed a bike. Nice old fashioned 10 speed. Yeah. 10 speed. If you haven't bought a bike in the past few years THE GAME HAS CHANGED. In a nutshell, you can only buy 2 bikes; a mountain bike or a street bike. Fatter tires and an upright riding position vs. skinny tires and aerodynamics. I decided I was a street bike guy.

$1000. Oh my gosh. There are no $200 10 speeds. $1000. That gets you the "entry level" street bike. Really nice. Really light. I bought the damn thing and have been riding it about 3 times a week since I got it. I ride through my neighborhood. I found a 45 minute pretty flat loop that I ride. I try to do the thing a bit faster each time and, without patting myself on the back too much, have become a pretty fair biker guy.

Yeah. Right. NOT!!! I decided to ride last Saturday on a pretty popular bike lane along the PCH in San Clemente. Pretty flat. Not much wind. Nice day to ride. Well, I went one complete cycle of the PCH and on my second, I decided to push it. Lungs, thighs, calves,... here we go.

It didn't bother me when the biker flew past me on his $5000 machine in his helmet, shorts, and shirt. It didn't even bother me when the 50 yr old woman raced by me next. Her calves were the size of small tree trunks.

I didn't mind too much when the 2 14 yr olds cruised by me on their 50 yr old Beach Cruisers. They were just pedaling easily, sitting up, no hands.

I began to get concerned when the 400 lb. dude rattled past me on his amazingly sturdy 1972 Schwinn. How the hell does THAT happen? I didn't have time to reflect. The family of 4 passed next. That was it. When that 8 year old went by me I'd had enough. Damn those little streamers coming from her handle bars. Damn that little pink banana seat.

I'm thinking about jogging.