Fuck Rogers

I'm late for work. I had clumsily forgotten my watch and stumbled dreamily onto the bus with hardly any recollection of the breakfast I had earlier.

Sleepy faces on the bus all over. I wonder if the high tech circuits in this new bus are still drowsy from dreaming of electric sheep.

I'm going to work late and somehow I don't feel like I care about it at all. What's a few minutes compared to the total time I spend at work?

There's too much happening on this earth to sweat the small stuff.

Chicago-Street Player (12" promo)

After having heard Pitbull's I Know You Want Me, I simply had to find out which song they had sampled.

Here it is, the original track. The real thing.

Enjoy.

Bicycles

Pardon me for the paucity of my entries, but I haven't had the drive to blog in a long while. Work has taken a generous bite of my life, and turned me into a zombie.

In other news, I have one thing to blog about.

Cycling.

It's a sport and a hobby, dammit.

You don't buy into the bicycling thing by just owning a shiny expensive bicycle overnight.

You don't just don messenger bags just cause they're oh so cool.

We grew up riding those bicycles. We spent our youth figuring out how to tune our deraileurs, we spent our teenhood always saving up for our new bicycles - they weren't much, but they meant a lot given how hard we had to save up for them.

We rode, because that's pretty much the only thing we could do, having spent all our time and money on our bicycles. But we loved it.

It was our life, and it always will be.

We grew up on those roads and trails.

Did you?