As I said previously, I slept in, took a shower and then I went and got food and juices and stuff. The juice I’ve been drinking all day has so much Vitamin B in it, that my pee is super neon yellow. I’d heard people talk about that before, but I’ve never experienced it myself first-hand.

I think I’m gonna drink a gallon of B vitamins every day from now on, just cuz…

Popularity: 4% [?]

Dean and Dave and I had a ‘business meeting’ at the local watering hole last Monday. Dave said that his kids were sick but it’s just a 24-hr thing. That was a week ago and I just spent the whole weekend in bed watching crappy TV and being whiny to myself.

But on the bright side, I knew I’d be home and able to watch the Paris-Roubaix bike race. For those who know less about cycling than Dave does about viruses, Paris-Roubaix is one of the cooler bike races out there. It’s called the Hell of the North because it has a number of sections where the riders go through sections of cobble-stoned streets, and it’s hell just trying to stay upright for many riders. Added, there are some dirt sections and then the race ends in a velodrome in Roubaix after a total of 160 miles. So it’s one of the more exciting races to watch.

I slept in, took a shower and went to the store for food and as soon as I got back I turned on the TV. Just in time too! There was Stuart O’Grady going across the finish line in the velodrome! I fukn missed the race!

Oh well, at least I’m still sick. That’s always a bonus.

Popularity: unranked [?]

So you’ll notice the previous post. I was at a bar, showing Molly how easy it was to post things on a web site. We’d gotten together to try to get her site off the ground because she has a food-related business and she asked me how to get the web side of it together (like I would know, yeah right!).

I don’t know what time it was, but we’d finished our business and our food, and Molly had to bail. Okay, take care. I scooped up my things and headed to the bathroom before jumping on the bike and heading out. While I was in the bathroom, I was able to hear a guy on the pay phone outside the bathroom making his call. My first thought as I headed into the bathroom was, “Who uses a pay phone anymore? Doesn’t this guy have a cell phone? Whatever…I gotta pee.”. But as I was peeing, I heard this guy saying something about “We have an officer down.” I’m thinking, “This could be some serious shit! Who is this guy, he doesn’t look Cop to me, but then again what does an undercover cop look like?” I laughed out loud and did my business and started to leave.

When I got out of the bathroom, I saw this guy hovering over the phone and saying that there was an officer down and that the suspects were a bartender and a pair of women….blahblahblah. As I’m on my way out, I’m thinking, “Oh the Undercover guy is calling in his predicament to dispatch or 911.”

Now waitaminit…

Officer Down is a biggie. I mean a BIGGIE! And this guy was sort of cavalier about it, so I started thinking that maybe I’ll unlock my bike and wait to see what happens. At the very least, I’ll see something weird go down, but he did mention the VERY intersection where my bike was locked. Hmmmm

Sure enough, I start to hear sirens. And before I get my bike unlocked, there’s a cop pulling into the intersection and looking all around (for a fallen comrade in the street, I suppose). So I walk out there and say to the cop as he’s getting out of his car, “I heard a guy making a 911 call, he’s on the payphone back in that bar.” So the cop heads in there with the other cops who have shown up by this time (lots of them).

Well, I ain’t gonna miss this shit, so I go back into the bar and start grabbing a seat at the bar itself. A couple people had seen me talk to the cop and point, so they asked me what was going on. “I don’t know, but I’m gonna get a beer and watch.” And sure enough, a cop says to me, “Can I talk to you outside?”

Uhhh, sure…

So he’s asking me about race, age, height, all that when I say to him, “I didn’t see his face, but he was wearing this, that, and his hair (from behind) was like this, and you know, if I had to point at somebody at the bar, I’d point at that guy.” And I did, cuz there was a guy who fit my mental picture. At this point they ask my for my name, address, all that and HOLY SHIT, there’s about 7 or 8 cop cars in the intersection and it’s the real deal. I’m talking to a 2nd cop, giving a statement about what I knew and they let me go.

So I’m unlocking my bike, and as I’m doing so, I see that they’re talking to the guy I pointed out to them. This was the perfect time to snap a photo, cuz GODAMMIT it’s going on my website, nowutimeen?

They get the guy outside, and he’s being a pretty cool customer. “Hey boys. What, no ladies this time?” And as I’m getting my goodies into and out of my bag, they start hauling him off to one of the cop cars. He wasn’t too into it, either. F bombs were flying from him left and right, which I thought was funny cuz he was probably in his 50s or something. He was trying to say a bunch of shit about them violating his rights and how he was on private property having a drink (private? You’re in a bar, dipshit. aka, PUB house. Hmmmm)

So I get my bike and sit down, cuz maybe they wanna ask me a couple more questions. But it was cold out and I wanted to get on my bike and get warm, so I went up to the cop who I originally talked to and asked him if I could go since they already had my info and phone number. He started to ask me more questions when the bartender from the bar across the street came up and said that he’d kicked this guy out like a half hour ago. Ahhhhh…

So the cop said I was free to go.

As I was leaving, some bystanders asked me, “Are you the one he hit?”

Oh, okay, now it all makes sense. And I’m no cop, but here goes… Some dingdong gets drunk in a bar. Maybe he gets cut off, maybe not, but he gets kicked out. Maybe he hits somebody, maybe not, but he goes to the next bar and calls 911 to get back at the Asshole who had cut him off/kicked him out.

Shithead didn’t count on me to finger him. Not like that, just to point, you sick people. At any rate, I can add Crimefighter to my resume now.

Yeah, I like that. Chewy Kolchuk: Crimefighter

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and it was that easy

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I remember that I had a strange dream last night.

I dreamt that Zeno and I were riding our bikes around the neighborhood. This neighborhood was a cross between somewhere in Juneau and somewhere in South Seattle. We decided that we were gonna go to a bar nearby and so we did. The bar ended up looking a lot like Velo Bike Shop, as far as the layout was concerned.

So we were in there for a little while, playing pinball and having beers, when we decided it was time to leave. On our way out, I notice something weird was going on with my non-driveside crankarm. It felt like it was loose and it was clunking around on each pedal stroke. The weird thing was that I knew I had one-piece cranks, so that should have been impossible. But it’s Dreamland, so anything goes. So I looked down to see what was happening when I realized that I was on somebody else’s bike and HOLY SHIT, we gotta go back and get my bike dude! I then realized that I’d left my vest and backpack at the bar too. Oh man, I hope they haven’t been swiped!!!

So Zeno and I headed back to the bar to retrieve my stuff, and here’s where the full Dreamland stuff kicks in. I knew I needed to go back to the bar and swap out this weird, crappy bike for mine and get my pack and vest, so here’s how that took place in my dream.

All of a sudden I was in a truck, trying to back it into the driveway that was next to some house. There were cars parked all over the place and it was a tight fit, and I was trying to get parked so that I could sneak into the house and get my stuff, and then sneak back out and leave without alerting anybody inside to my presence. I knew the main entrance to the house was open, and whoever was inside (the folks that I didn’t want to talk to or interact with for whatever reason, even though they were either family members or tight friends of mine) was watching TV, so I was being extra very quiet…

But the dog knew I was there and started to whine and wag its tail and was generally getting all excited that I was there, thus jeopardizing my mission. In my dream, the dog was Pimba (a buddy’s dog in real-life), but it wasn’t the same breed. Pimba is an Australian Cattle dog and this was a big furry Husky/mutt mix that was shedding a LOT of fur after the winter. But it was still Pimba, and dammit, she was gonna give me away! So there I am, trying to stealth-park the truck while she’s whining and trying to jump into my lap in the cab and shit just ain’t working.

And that’s how it works in my dreams quite often. Much metaphor going on… Somehow the action of backing a truck into a driveway and sneaking my backpack out of the house while folks are watching TV is a parallel for me getting back to the bar and retrieving my bicycle and my backpack. AND my precious vest that says ‘Chewy’ on it.

I don’t understand it any better than you do.

Popularity: unranked [?]

I was reloading music onto my iPod so that I’ll have fresh music in the bike shop for the coming week. As I was perusing music/artists, I came across Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass. I couldn’t help myself, I just HAD to click on Tijuana Taxi just to hear the horn. And sure enough, I heard it and started giggling to myself.

Remember the pool party at the Mooney’s place?

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