Oh man, the laughter that shot out of me the other night, I swear it shook the building!
It was the night of my last blog post. I had been walking around for days giggling manically; Big Ring knew something was up and was a little, dare I say, frightened. After posting my blog, I refused to leave his side until he read it. At first I waited patiently, but for some reason the guy was not interested in his computer, he was more interested in the real estate porn on the TV. I thought I was gonna pee my pants, I’d been waiting so long, but there was no way I was gonna leave the room and have him read it without me seeing his reaction! After what seemed like forever, he finally shuffled over to his computer, and started clicking on his million or so bookmarks. As soon as I saw my blog pop on his screen, I could feel the evil excitement bubbling in my belly, and could barely contain the laughter within me. I watched as he slowly scrolled down, reciting the words silently in my head. And then, when that shot of the green iBert on the beautiful Bianchi appeared, I couldn’t hold it in any longer, I was snorting like a fat little pug! His eyes shot open, his mouth tried forming words, but for a moment, it was just flabbergasted silence. And then, just as fast as he lost his words, he regained them:
“Not going to happen!” he said. A cavalcade of reasons why came flooding out of his mouth fast and furious. Some of them genuine observations and concerns, but most, big fat lies:
- “It’s like putting steer horns on the hood of a Ferrari!”
- “It’s $1,200!”
- “It’s banned in Canada!”
- “It’s not suitable for carbon-fibre bikes!”
- “Could you imagine if Jens Voigt had one of those? He’d have to have SIX strapped to his bike!”
- “It may be suitable for some road bikes, but it’s not for Lapierres; says that right at the bottom of the page!”
- “You wouldn’t be able to see your Garmin with that, and if you can’t see your Garmin, there’s no point in riding your bike!”
- “Mark Cavendish has a kid and you don’t see him riding around with one those!”
- “The entire nation of France would lay a serious whoop ass on us if we did that to the Lapierre!”
I kid you not, the excuses were coming out of him faster than vomit after a night of tequila! Apparently he really doesn’t want iBert messing with his beloved mistress. Can I blame him? Not really, but uhm, I’ve been saddled with BOB, so really, how is this any different? I’m just saying!
How dare I even think to mess with his beloved mistress!
YESTERDAY’S RUN:
5:30 p.m. BG before: 9.0
Temp. basal: none
Time: 30 minutes – 10 warmup/10 tempo/10 cool down
6:30 p.m BG after: 7.6
And if you missed it, “BOB” replied to my last post in the comments section 😉
You are toast Big Ring. Any woman can tell you, Lapierre will carry the little one, eventually. Life as a parent is not predictable, in the end the mistress loses her vaunted position.
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