WARNING: the following post is not merely vulgar; many readers shalll find it offensive because it is. What it is NOT is PC. If you continue reading, youve only yourself to blame if you revulse. Background: forty years ago I rode my bicycle from NYC to Florida. I left with $40 and, unknown to myself till later, walking (not bicycle riding) pneumonia. I kept a diary. Thiss an entry, written when I was in Miami. Its transcribed verbatim: April 29, 1973 I still have a fever. I went to work yesterday, though I may take the day off tomorrow and try to find some sort of public health thing. Its amazing. I lived and rode my bicycle for three hard years in NYC, breathing in an air supposed to contain all the worst poisons known to man, and never sick a day. Not until I take my bicycle and ride away from all that potential death does my health fall apart. My tan is coming along great. I look fantastic but I feel awful. I know it could be worse. I could feel great and look awful. Then Id probably worry I was after all this, a vagina.
Posted on: Sun, 10 Nov 2013 14:48:26 +0000
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