Donkey Puncherelli

Today is fun. My ride to work via bicycle wasn't marred by the recent California heat. I wasn't covered in a thin veneer of sweat and discontent.

I am in the mood to say, "Here I am. There I go." I feel like being a fleeting memory. I feel like being something glimpsed for but a second. I feel like making people say, "Did I just see that?" What was that?"

Nothing says this more eloquently than having a large horn portruding from your frontal lobes. I have found the following pictures for you to enjoy.

Go be fancy.



I would feel better if this image was emblazoned on a shirt that was fitted to my small frame. I would wear it with pride, tinged with embarrassment.



The Narwhal. That's really all you have to say.

Seven days ago, at around this very hour, I was stuffed in a van. I was kidnapped by a group of people that were from the future. They said they came to the past because in their world, transportation via bicycle is no more. Scientists in the future created a highway network of rainbows on which the mighty pegasus takes to wing and transports human cargo to any destination in no time at all. These visitors come to the past for the mighty challenge that is the Aids Life Cycle; 545 miles of riding a bike from San Francisco to Los Angeles. I was tossed in the back seat with the luggage because I am small and compact. I would like to say we were crammed like sardines in a can but we weren't. Maybe everyone else was, but I felt rather comfy. The view from the back seat looked like this:



Since I was in the back, no one wanted to talk to me. Having a dull sense of humor and being vulgar is frowned upon in some circles. I became rather lonely. I did, however, happen to make a new friend. He told me his name was Donald Roofington of Vanshire. I was pleased to make his aquaintance. He let me take his photo:



The journey northward was uneventful. We stopped to eat, fill the vans up with gas, and eat again. There was a possible attack by a bird but I am not supposed to talk about that. In the future, birds are the Time Police. That is all I can say. I thought the following photo was interesting:



That's right folks. A cologne dispenser. Not only do you get to smell like you've been driving for x amount of hours, the Taco Bell/Pizza Hut food combo stop, and the gas station - you get to smell like Eternity for a quarter.

Upon arriving in San Frankie, I was dumbfounded. It has been at least 3 years since my last visit to said city but sweet baby Jebus, has it changed. THERE ARE BIKES EVERYWHERE!!!! There were bikes locked to every conceivable hitching posts and bikes locked to those bikes. I equate the look of all this bike madness to something found in nature:



I know this is a stretch but just think of all those crabs as bikes. Then think of a very urban background. That's what San Fran looks like.

San Francisco is fun. Fun as in OMG BIKES, GAY STUFF, and OMG MORE GAY STUFF.

Here is a picture of a map:



Notice how the train lines are rainbow-like in their color scheme. I can think of two things that are the same way:



** Please Note**
I like gays. I like Junior World Champions. These photos are side by side to illustrate the color schemes of San Fran's Tube system. Yay.

There were 7 days of riding time. I only took this one photo:



This happy pumpkin was in Paso Robles. Please notice the iron cat cut-out on the post. I took some pictures of those but on a different camera. I was too busy biking hundreds of miles, enjoying the most beautiful scenery EVAR, smelling strawberry fields, and feeling the wind on my face to take pictures. I will dig some up and write accordingly.
Thanks for reading!