Party over here on the West side.
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#Iamthepublicworksdepartment. If it's relevant to bicycles. I work out.
Big boys don't cry. Even faced with some rainy inconvenience, Big Boys adjust their layers and keep pedaling. The heavy stuff isn't coming down for a while. Going to work=riding. My mood, when I arrive at the jay oh bee is much improved by riding as opposed to driving. MUCH IMPROVED. Put on yer plastic and charge it.
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I see the upturned 'shrooms tossed off the side of the trail. I know what that signifies.MotherFUCKERS . It signifies jackasses are out here in my home trial system IDing/falseIDing some, and tossing others cuz they are indicators. They reckon if I can't see any _______s (plentiful and poisonous) I won't think to look for ________s (fat, tasty, and healthy!) because they like the same conditions...and they cover up they pits to hide they tracks?!? Attempt to. I see this all as I hot and bother my way up the climb, getting to work.
I am in danger of being late(r) to work. So I skip that one section of trail in favor of pave quickness, and I see the first pair of the day trippers hunching along with their bags. Then I spy the unmistakable bright honey brown from the corner of my eye and grab the brakes. I've dropped the bike and am striding into the trees before I'm thinking- that familiar and dear splash of color has triggered the fever.
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I am gripped. Several plump and hard little piggies reveal themselves to me. I have a knife, and I have a musette. I slice the 'shroom to leave the mycelium as undisturbed as possible. I tap out the (very)few bugs present and try to loosen some spores in the locale. Then I cover the hole. Hell yes, I play this game. Are you kidding me? Porcinis (Boletus edulis) are fucking delicious. Like a fatty distillation of the forest floor. If you know, then you know.
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Plus, with the drought we been having...last year I saw zero (0) total. The year before, only 2. It is some much delayed and well-anticipated hoot out loud type Goodness. For reals.
The woods are full of kooks. I am late. I text my dudes and tell them what they already know and lie about how soon I'll show. My bike ride has shifted gears of it's own accord. I am incapable of speed. To be quick is to miss possible treasure. It is exquisite.
Wut?
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#Iamthepublicworksdepartment. If it's relevant to bicycles. I work out.
Big boys don't cry. Even faced with some rainy inconvenience, Big Boys adjust their layers and keep pedaling. The heavy stuff isn't coming down for a while. Going to work=riding. My mood, when I arrive at the jay oh bee is much improved by riding as opposed to driving. MUCH IMPROVED. Put on yer plastic and charge it.

I see the upturned 'shrooms tossed off the side of the trail. I know what that signifies.MotherFUCKERS . It signifies jackasses are out here in my home trial system IDing/falseIDing some, and tossing others cuz they are indicators. They reckon if I can't see any _______s (plentiful and poisonous) I won't think to look for ________s (fat, tasty, and healthy!) because they like the same conditions...and they cover up they pits to hide they tracks?!? Attempt to. I see this all as I hot and bother my way up the climb, getting to work.
I am in danger of being late(r) to work. So I skip that one section of trail in favor of pave quickness, and I see the first pair of the day trippers hunching along with their bags. Then I spy the unmistakable bright honey brown from the corner of my eye and grab the brakes. I've dropped the bike and am striding into the trees before I'm thinking- that familiar and dear splash of color has triggered the fever.

I am gripped. Several plump and hard little piggies reveal themselves to me. I have a knife, and I have a musette. I slice the 'shroom to leave the mycelium as undisturbed as possible. I tap out the (very)few bugs present and try to loosen some spores in the locale. Then I cover the hole. Hell yes, I play this game. Are you kidding me? Porcinis (Boletus edulis) are fucking delicious. Like a fatty distillation of the forest floor. If you know, then you know.

Plus, with the drought we been having...last year I saw zero (0) total. The year before, only 2. It is some much delayed and well-anticipated hoot out loud type Goodness. For reals.
The woods are full of kooks. I am late. I text my dudes and tell them what they already know and lie about how soon I'll show. My bike ride has shifted gears of it's own accord. I am incapable of speed. To be quick is to miss possible treasure. It is exquisite.
Wut?
1 comment:
dirt bags....literally
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