Elision- Abandoned ancient blog post BEHIND THE SCENES

Dear Readers,

Several years ago I went on an EPIC BICYCLE ADVENTURE!! Unfortunately, I never finished a Part III (despite my empty promises) and so readers were left in the lurch, forever deprived of the sort of happy ending they’ve come to expect from yours truly(DOUBLE ENTENDRES!!). Languishing for years in the DRAFTS folder of this mighty blog was the skeletal outline of that post. Much time and many adventures have passed since June of 2011, and I must admit that I will never be able to recapture the narrative flow of those initial posts. So instead, I offer you a thrilling LOOK BEHIND THE CURTAIN at how the blogging sausage is made!

I AM A TERRIBLE FRAUD!

Follow me below the fold for notes and placeholders that I can no longer make sense of, a shabby outline, 2 slightly different false starts and a picture of a pretty cool snapping turtle…

(The contents of the DRAFT folder appear exactly as they were abandoned in 2011):

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I was there

The image was simultaneously crystal clear, blurred and dreamy. The smells and sounds drifted through my brain. The whole visceral experience couldn’t have lasted for more than a microsecond as my head sunk into the pillow- and then it was gone. I’m pretty sure it was Bali. There was a square I remember walking across one night, following the music toward a bar that would serve cocktails either delicious or poisonous, depending on the spirit. (If you ever have the chance to try Arrack, DON”T FUCKING DO IT) I remember the warmth of the air. The smells. The absence of worry. That’s a privilege. One that’s not available to the locals. To say it was magical would be a bullshit cliche. It was just fun. Vacation. A privilege.

I think it was Bali. I try to remember. It’s been too long, I miss it. I’m here. I was there.

Once.

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Fuck the King of Thailand, Part II

Having recovered nicely from my rage-induced aneurysm, I will now continue to regale you with additional superlatives from my extensive travels in the Far East. As previously stated, if you have a problem with the word “fuck,” or you get easily offended by offensive, satirical, rage-ful, or otherwise inappropriate material, may I direct you to this much more suitable web address. For those brave souls who remain, let us continue our adventure, BELOW THE BREAK!

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Fuck the King of Thailand, Part I

As the great Jim Anchower might say, I know it’s been a long time since I rapped at ya, but shit’s been crazier than a Patong Beach sex show (FORESHADOWING…). So what, you are surely asking, has rekindled the embers that were once the flame of the world’s greatest blog? How about a 20 day trip to the FAR FUCKING EAST!! That’s right, your humble blogger visited the shit out of Macau, Hong Kong, Beijing, and Thailand. So how does one possibly capture 20 days in blog form? Superlatives, rants and raves!

Join me below the break for the first post in a series which will contain scintillating categories such as Best Wall, Worst TV, Spiciest Tom and more!

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Genesis of an Obsession, Part II

When we last saw our intrepid bicycle cavalry, they had narrowly survived a savage goose attack and were cycling onward toward Ohiopyle State Park.

File Photo: Canada Goose family thirsty for cyclist blood

Shaken, but unharmed, we decided to stop for lunch in Rockwood, PA home of the famous Rock City Cafe. This “Cafe”  is really a standard issue bar with 3 tables that happens to serve a limited menu of standard diner fare. The waitress, a withered old crone with zero patience for yuppy bicycle travelers, could not have been less hospitable had she stabbed us and stolen our bikes. Me: “Can I get a Diet Coke?” Waitress: “You know, you can just walk over and grab a bottle out of the cooler” Me: [befuddled stare] Waitress: [exasperated sigh. Returns 10 minutes later and practically throws 20 oz bottle of Diet Pepsi on the table] Me: “Thanks” [thinking to self: Please don’t let this turn into Deliverance]

Despite the poor service (typical Yelp review: “Service was bad enough to make me lose my appetite.” Editor’s note: There are no Yelp reviews of the Rock City Cafe) my appetite was not lost. Operating at a calorie deficit from biking all day makes every morsel of food taste like God’s own smorgasboard. I can get transcendent cheesesteaks at many places in Philadelphia, but at this moment and under these circumstances, the Rock City cheesesteak rivaled the mighty Dalessandro’s for pure deliciousness.

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Genesis of an Obsession, Part I

Warning: The following music video contains brief nude bicycling. And Freddie Mercury.

About a month ago I decided I would bicycle to work. Other than about 2 miles each at the beginning and end of the commute, the majority of the riding takes place on the well groomed Capital Crescent Trail. 11 miles each way takes me about the same amount of time as it takes to drive. I feel great when I’m done, I save money on gas and parking, and perhaps most unexpectedly, I’ve discovered a new hobby. Last weekend, I took my bicycling obsession to the next level when I embarked on my first tour since the legendary Kermond CAM Tour ’94. Ride with me below the fold, as we embark upon Goose Tour 2011 (Cumberland, MD to Pittsburgh, PA)

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One Fuck Shy of Amazing or The Shit of a Lifetime

It was supposed to be like any other Tuesday in Washington, DC: Live Band Karaoke at the Wonderland Ballroom with H-Cskillz

The story you are about to read is true.

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