Not sure why Eastwood is sleeping. Must have been a good party.
It was cold. I mean really cold. Mid 20s I think. The beer was flowing, the pinata was back, and we cheered/heckled our racing pals despite being half frozen (us and them.) It was a blast.
But our friend from last Sunday never came back.
I guess he's retired from mountain bike racing. I dunno. That's too bad. We had some shit ready for his ass. Whatever. We still had an awesome time, and once again were thanked by the racing folks out there that knew how to have a good time, and expected us to provide the entertainment.
Yeah, I race too. Just not right now. I'm not too fat (or obese), scared to get my feelz hurt, or any piss poor excuse like that. I'm just enjoying cheering on other people while I get ready for my season (that starts very soon.)
And guess what? People actually know who I am. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, but I'll take it.
See y'all tomorrow.
Oh yeah, Who Gives A Shit.
Maybe he's off running it up with other whiner wannabes. Not a true mountain biker if he doesn't like the shit your crew is dealing. Heck, if he thinks your heckling is wrong, I'd love to see what his thoughts would be at Richmond or the Pisgah stage race. If he doesn't like what you boys/gals are doing in the woods, then he certainly doesn't need to come back because it's an integral part of the race. He should go sulk somewhere else.
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