Music, Bike
Right now, I’m listening to an awesome instrumental by Moby. It’s called “Love Song for my Mom”. Moby is cool and his coolness is more widely recognized in Europe were people have different (dare I say better? no better not…) tastes. I should work on my transitions from subject to subject in these news items because otherwise my English writting will be an exercise in linguistic horror lacking grammar, mechanics, and punctuation. Frightful, isn’t it? Speaking of fright, my bike chose to cease operation today. The bent drive chain coupled with a warped rear rim prompted my well meaning attack with a hammer to try to straighten things on the bike out. The bike repair guy informed me my rim might be “toasted”. Dang. My main mode of transportation is now in the shop until Thursday. Seven days on a racing bike with an uncomfortable seat is not my idea of how to end the summer. What will be, will be. Last time, (when my mom ran over my bike), the same bike repair guy informed me my front rim was “tacoed”. Hey, these guys fix my bike, so I’m not complaining. Let’s hear it for the adjective happy people in the bike repair world. That’s all from your bikeless friend Alex.
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