blown tubes & legal amphetamines

dammit, i shoulda stolen that pista, cause yesterday  i blew out my back tire doing (unnecessary) skids on the top floor of the parking structure. just goes to show, it may be extremely cool-looking to light a grit while doing a no-hands skid, but the accompanying "BANGhissssssFUCK" sound is one of the worst noises i hear. oh well, another oversized rubber cockring needed. i'm gonna go to the bike shop and watch my wallet deflate faster than that tube did. maybe it's time to put a brake on the ugly fucker, not that that would help since it seems i only skid when 'practicing,' aka going somewhere where there's no one to crash into or embarass myself in front of when my lazy foot slips off the cruiser pedals from the seventies i somehow think are acceptable for brakeless fixie riding. 

bikesnobnyc, if you read this, everything you have said about the track bike craze is absolutely spot on. that said, i don't ride a track bike. i ride a conversion. it's a different deal altogether. 

cept not really.

anyway, my main ugly fucker is out of comission til i can afford its peculiar ostentations again. that leaves me with the real badass machine, my old fixie which is now some sort of bastardized upright hybrid/single speed/ancient roman gladiator chariot and almost as dangerous as that sounds. taking that near-brakeless contraption to class is an adventure every time.

speaking of class, i'll be back to the blog tomorrow when i finish this essay i'm supposed to do, and was due this morning. hopefully i'll get it done with the help of an adderall-fueled all-night trip to the 24 Lounge - doping for energy now having expanded beyond cycling into the hitherto caffeine-dominated realm of schoolwork, all thanks due to modern pharmacology. oh well. turning things in on time was never really my steez.