10

I haven't been on my bike in a while now. It really has nothing to do with the weather, I just haven't felt the need to be riding so much. I have ridden 4 bikes to their death now, all because of these brutal Chicago winters. I remember them all. One was a Canondale mountain bike. It was real nice, I killed it in the winter of 2005. I gave it to my friend Adrian. That same winter I destroyed a Schwinn world tour road bike. I bought my first track bike that spring. I loved that bike and so did everyone else. I put an incredible amount of blood sweat and tears into that fucker. A lot of money too. A lot of wear and tear. That bike died the next winter. Everything on it frozen from the salt. I remember I used to call it my technicolor dream bike. The next bike I got was a Trek 1000 road bike. I road that fucker to its death also. My friend Ivan has it now. That bike was also another great ride. I took it with me to NYC, and road it in an alleycat race, where I nearly got dead last. I road it to wisconsin to my friends Cabin. I wish I still had it. I wish I still had all my bikes. I am down to one. A thrasher. Everytime I ride I feel like I married the wrong girl. Like I should have taken better care of the other ones.

It gets me around though.

This baby is going to die too, just like everything else in this city that I touch.

It's funny, I know nobody comes here to read this shit, so I almost don't care about what I am writing. It feels like a 3rd grade essay, and I wish I could tell great stories about all my bikes, and I am sure I can, but I won't. Another day.