Wasp up the ass.............




Originally posted in 2006

I am an avid bicyclist (fat tire) and have really enjoyed (did I really say that?) riding mountain bikes.

My son in-law really got me going with them.
It is one of the few things I think I do well , at least that is my opinion!

Anyway, last summer I had been training pretty hard (for me) and was psyched to go for a long and hard ride.
12 miles total, 4 out to the course Coyote Ridge, which is rated difficult (by me for my skill level), 4 miles up, yes UP Coyote Ridge and then back down, 4 miles returning to the old homestead with lots of cold, cold, beer waiting for the champion to arrive.
Weather, 90 + degrees, 102 degrees surface, rattle snakes possible, you know all the macho manly stuff that makes you tough! Or so I thought.

So I get all geared up, hydrated, have my camel back loaded with water, inner tubes, tools and yes snake bite kit, (not really a kit, just a 4" hunting knife) check the trusty steed one last time and head out for a test of my mental and physical skills.
First leg goes well, I kind of like the intense heat, sweating, stinking and all that.
Second leg is good, can't quite make it to the top, but close enough to boost my ego to that level of utopia!
Last leg goes well also, lots of YOU DU MAN, YOU DID IT, YOU ARE A STUD, yeah really feeling high as a kite, just a 1/4 mile to my reward, a couple of slammed brain grenades, and the world will seem perfect.

Ok I admit it, it was stupid of me to even think that I could have a "perfect moment"

As I am riding through my neighborhood, cooling down, cruising down the last hill at 25 mph, enjoying my sense of accomplishment, and BAM all of a sudden it feels like someone has JAMMED an ice pick in my right ass cheek, yes the pain was excruciating. Once the fog of pain lifted, I realized that at 25 miles per hour a wasp had gotten sucked up (Hoover'd baby!) my baggy shorts and had stung me in the ass.

My son in-law had said NO To spandex shorts, only baggy ones will do, got to be cool man!
Gee thanks a lot for that tip....

I did not know if it was a wasp, bee, hornet, what ever (like the sound of wasp)!
Then just to really piss me off it stings me again. Yes two ice picks in the ass, what a feeling of joy I felt!
So in my amazing abilities to address a near death experience I decide that the best thing to do is kill the mother fucker.

The only way to do this, (with a sense of style, mind you) while riding a mountain bike in your neighborhood at 25 mph, is to start slapping your own ass as hard as you can while you think about killing it and getting home as soon as possible. Brute force and ignorance every time!
So now I am going 30 miles per hour slapping my ass as hard as I can to kill this wonderful little torture expert, totally oblivious to what the neighbors are saying as I go by.

Grabbing their children, "don't look Johnny" while covering their little eyes that are fixed on this unusual sight and running into their homes.

I get home, dump the bike in the drive way, get in the garage and close the door.
Then I can be myself, start yelling profanities, rip my shorts off throw them on the floor and start to stamp the crap out of them. If the bastard is still in there he is DEAD!

I then go inside to survey the damage to my lily white ass and there it is, a battle wound, a welt the size of a grape fruit with two little dark red stinger marks.

Remember the old western's?
The cowboy would be at a gallop, slapping his horse yelling "Giddy Up"!!!!

The start of KOFU (the first post 9/2006)

Well I have finally started to join the 21st century.
First came the "pager", then a DSL modem and now "KOFU Times" ( a "blog" you say).

Still loathe cell phones, refuse to carry one. Funny how people look at you when you tell them that you do not carry and or have a cell phone. The look is about the same as if you said you had some communicable disease after sneezing.
Some times I wonder if I am the last one?

Anyway, KOFU you ask.

Really didn't take me to long to come up with this. After leading a life of "KOFU" I felt it was time to look to the web to find other worthy KOFU members. After awhile you start to wonder if you are the only one... Then your son in law proves that he is with you in this struggle, struggle called life. You really do not have a choice. Think you do? Start studying the book of Job. I still play with the idea of changing my name legally... But people would say, "are you looking for a job?" no my name is Job...

"KOFU", OK, here it is;

"King of Fuck Ups"

What ever can go wrong, will, there is no doubt to this fact. Your life is a bowl of shit and you just get to keep stirring it around (you have to choose a shovel or a spoon). Always looks the same, always smells the same, you get it, right?

It all started....

We purchased a new car and added the bike rack to the top of it as Marg & I would ride pretty much weekly.

So, as I knew that I could "fuck it up" I wrote a note on cardboard that said "BIKE" in big black letters. Why you ask? Well to prevent me from driving into the garage with the bikes on top of the car, it has been known to happen you see...
For months it worked perfect, every time we got in the car to go riding out came the note "BIKE" and onto the dashboard it went where you could't help but see it. Yeah well OK it seemed like a brilliant plan until the one time in a thousand I decide to back into the garage, just this simple change in our daily pattern resulted in... Yep I backed right into the garage with the bike on top of the car, proceeded to rip it (along with the $400 rack) clean off the top of the car, hell of noise it made, never forget it (just stirring the shit you see). Well after the shock of how stupid I was/am had lifted I got out to assess the damage, amazingly the only real damage was a broken seat and the COMPLETE DESTRUCTION OF A $400 ROOF RACK!
OK so there were a few scratches on top of the car but no one would ever be looking there.
How stupid can one man feel, pretty damn stupid if you ask me, KOFU was born!
Later after discussing the fuck up with my son in law (he had helped me get my $1400 mountain bike) and as soon as he was done laughing his ass off, he said I was very lucky (yeah right) that I did not drive in forward, it probably would have totaled the bike.
What had happened was that the rear tire hit the gutter, pushed the bike down (I have 6" of travel on the rear) skidded along the top of the door opening and "blammo" the seat catches and rips it all off in one fell swoop...
Yeah I know I should look at the positive side of this story of complete and utter failure.
Kiss my ass, please...
When we painted the house I made sure that the "tire skid mark" on the gutter was left alone, always there to remind me...

When did it all start...

how can it start anywhere but at birth? You have no choice as to if you "WANT" to be born. Why can't God let you see a "preview" of your up and coming life first? Then you can say, "yea" or "nay" before it all starts. I would have liked to have been able to see a percentage of the "good" days to the "bad" days. If it wasn't at least 70 % or better I think I would have to re-think this "birth" thing, of course it also depends on how long this gift of life will be. 70-80 years of stirring the shit? I don't know if I would be in for it, long haul and all that stuff.

Don't get me wrong there are good days.

self: are you sure?

self: when was the last one?

self: last what?

self: good day you idiot?

self: oh yea, lets see...

As acting president of this up & coming not for profit organization (yes there will be more on this later). I envision other "worthy" members joining the ranks to form a support group for us poor KOFU life long members that did not realize there is someone more f*#ked up than me. There has to be more, please tell me there is? Or am I just going to be telling my story to myself, so I can feel better about myself???? I am tired of laughing at the insanity of my life!