Lunch, Fire, Slice! betrayal...

Part I: If I could have lunch with anyone that I do not know now, I think I would pick Charlie Chaplin. I haven't ever seen any of his movies, but I think I saw a youtube clip once and it was kind of funny. I think he would be a nice guy and probably a good conversationalist. I would like him to show me how to walk funny and then I would introduce him to the 21st century. I was going to pick Alexander the Great, but frankly, I can't imagine him being very good company. He would probably not like Nebraska. Maybe he would, but I doubt it. I'll bet Rudyard Kipling would be a great guy. Actually, let's do this: you have to pick three people that you would invite over for a game night. I would pick Rudyard Kipling, Charlie Chaplin, and Kant. I don't remember if his first name is Emmanuel or Immanuel. Immanual? Immanual labor? Ha ha. One of my professors told me that I./E. Kant would never discuss philosophy outside of the university and that he was a very polite and nice guy and fun to have at holiday parties. Perfect! Actually I want to invite 4 people over so I can invite Judy Blume. Or 5 so that Alberto V. Einstein could come. That would be the cool table. I would probably have to sit at the end by the kitchen and have to get cloths to clean up spills though. My life is always rough.

Part II: Jan 27 1984 is my birthday. I share the birthday with Mozart and Lewis Carrol. Also, the girl who sat next to me in one of my jobs at BYU was born on the exact same day as me, but in Mauritius. One of my favorite things about my birthday is that on January 27, 1984, Michael Jackson's head caught on fire. I have never been able to find out when exactly it happened, but I like to think that it is at the same moment that I came into the world. I come in, his hair goes out. I was born at noon. If his hair caught on fire at 10 am (which isn't so unlikely considering he was shooting a Pepsi commercial when it happened), then I would be convinced. That is just how intense I am. The King of Pop burns in my presence. He is just lucky he wasn't in Opelika.

Part III: I like cutting boards. I want one of those big two inch thick ones where the end grain faces you and it is impossible to move because it weighs, like, 30 pounds. Lisa gave us a Williams and Sonoma catalog over the summer and it was pretty cool to look at. I would like to get a nice knife set once I get a job. I would also like to buy lots of olive oil and poptarts and never run out of either ever again. I hate buying olive oil because I know how much I could be paying if I was somehow on the other side of the world. It is like paying $4 for a can of rootbeer when you are outside the U.S. You just feel like a fool. Whatever. An entire blog with no mention of bicycles.

The End

(everyone but Katie, ollscray ownday orfay oremay)



























Cool. So I lied about it being the end.
I went out to a used parts bike shop and got myself outfitted for this new bike. I fitted it with cranks and pedals, shortened and aligned the chain, and got the seat in all nice. It turns out I got the wrong size stem though. It is the part that attaches the handlebars to the frame. It is like a millimeter too large, so I am going back tomorrow morning to get a smaller one. But it'll be all ready to ride tomorrow. Anna is excited because this frame is smaller than mine, so she will be able to ride it very comfortably. I think she'll like it a lot more than the DweebCruiser6300. I think I am going to get knobby tires and mess around with the gears of the 6300 to turn it into a sweet single speed mountain bike. There are some good trails around here and I think I am ready to try the whole mountain thing. I'll let you know how it goes.
Oh yeah. This morning when I got to school, the black abandonded Trek wasn't there. Some reader of my blog has betrayed me and alerted the Lincoln mafia that there was a nice rusted frame to be had. My own audience.

I trusted you, readers.

I would have loved you, bike.

R.I.P.
25 November, 2008