WWLD

That stands for "What Would a Luddite Do." Move on with their life I suppose. The past few weeks of dead air are brought to you by the asshats at Comcast who couldn't figure out why my 21t-century internet service wasn't working. Two weeks and at least 3 hours on the phone got me nothing but "You must have a program on your machine that's blocking the IP. Gosh I'm really stumped. I don't understand why it's not working." Leave it to my heroine, Jane the Magnificent, who spent 5 minutes in her jammies yesterday deducing that my network adapter had gone to that big black box in the sky and fixed it all for free. Jane is pure gold and she can sprint like a bat outta hell. We need more friends like Jane in the world.

I'm still on doctor's orders to be fat and lazy. Rode today for the first time in 8 days and felt quite zippy. Could also have to do with my heavy weekend dose of vitamin Z. Need to bottle that stuff up. A thousand vitamins couldn't come close. Or be as tasty.

666 Slayer Race

Dragged my ass out of the house and rode up to Cappy Hill to join a throng of bike afficianados for the post-666 race at the Summit. A better summer evening could not have been spent among a crowd of sweaty bikers swilling beer and swapping stories. My man came in 5th out of 40 or so. His prize (under my direction) was to walk around all night sporting an all-too-small black PBR wife-beater jersey . If a girl can't drool over her own hunk of meat then no one can (or better).

The devil, evidently more a listener of Metallica than Slayer, also made a special appearance today and layed waste to all the jackass drivers who felt a need to take out cyclists: