The "Killer" at the scene of the crime. 2007 Liege Bastogne Liege.
I woke up early and rode with Feeves and Dr. Giggles. We got pulled over by the po-po on the way back because we rolled through a green arrow, not light. A couple of "Yes sir's" later and we were gone. No big deal. Hell, we deserved it for all the times we run stop signs and such.
Still, there's a hell of a lot more selfish motherfuckers out there getting away with driving autos in terrifically shitty ways than ever before. So, kind officer, how's about a concerted crack down on those assholes while you're servin' and protectin'? I could go on and on, but I'm actually in a pretty good mood today and nothings more inane than listening to a cyclist bitch about traffic. So, 'nuff said, as ol' Stan Lee used to say.
When I got back home it was a quick wash, computer check to see what happened in LBL (Hell Yeah! DiLuca takes the win!) and straight to the shop to open up. As soon as the doors opened the shit hit the fan in the way it only can on Sundays. Every goof and their turdball, mushy tired, ride came in wanting service. We served and they smiled. There was even a milf winking at us with her body of a twenty year old. Nobody paid attention to her daughter.
After an hour, the crowd simmered down. Feeves and I decided to replenish our bodily fluids with many bottles of beer. By closing time we were both pretty loopy and rode home with good vibes and sunshine. Now that's a Sunday I can be proud of.
Photo credit: Cyclingnews.com