Biker Bros, Beware of Baldin!

(see what I did there?...thats called "alliteration")

Guest blogger "Lindsey" writes:

"soooooooo,
bicyclists. in the city. blow. they don't signal, they give motorists crap, they have their own fucking lane and ride the highest of horses about not leaving a carbon fucking footprint. They don't pay registration and don't obey rules of the road aaaaaaaand they get no tickets. Most disturbing is how they ride to work and are all sweaty.

I followed a biker lady this morning that cut me off and at a light i rolled down the window like i was going to ask for directions and screeched at her; "Use your fucking brain and signal."
Not a shining moment, but yet I can't help wishing I would have had something to throw at her, a milkshake, a used kleenex, a baby, whatever."

Vacation

Free time is precious when you're working one of those "day jobs" as we call 'em.
You get up at 7am, get your disgusting ass ready for work. Get to the office somewhere around 9, possibly earlier and do things at a desk, in meetings, over the phone...that somewhere down the line, result in someone getting richer; that someone is not you.
You pack your bags and head out at 6pm, possibly later, and prepare for the ever-fantastic commute home from some office-type setting to your home.
Bus rides with local derelicts breathing heavily on your neck, dry-humping things you can't see, why is this thing im holding onto greasy? I love life.
Or, the alternative...
Freeways that look like parking lots, blond bitches on their cell phones to your right(isn't that illegal now?), random exec dude in his beamer on the left...I hate you. I wonder how much the cost of gas used commuting to and from work cuts into what I actually make.
Best case scenario, Im home by 6:30pm. Realistic scenario, Im home by 7pm or 7:15.
Sweet, all I want to do is eat. Mmmm, should I make some tacos? Maybe pasta? mmm...so I don't actually sit down to eat till 8pm.
Eat, do the dishes, it's now 9pm.
Best case scenario, I don't really start to get tired for 3-4 hours. Realistic scenario, I start to get tired in 2-3 hours and wanna go to bed. Imagine that, out of 24, only 2-3 are mine. Seriously, WTF?

Im going to T-Bell and listen to "Rat Race" by Problem Solved.

The Philly Stink

Open letter to approximately 35% of the men in Philadelphia:

You STINK
As in, you smell like raw meat *plenty of seasoning* left out in the sun for a couple weeks. Certified B.O.
Please upgrade your habits of personal hygiene, you disgust me.

Signed,
Ryan M. Rowe


Ok ok, so youre asking..."dude, Ryan, why the FUCK are you going around smelling dudes in Philadelphia?"...Lets just say, due to working conditions, ive been in close proximity to a large amount of people, within a close-quartered room in downtown Philadelphia for the entire week.
Ive met rich people, poor people. Tall people, short people. Skinny people, fat people, young people, old people...and yet, The Stink can be found attached to men in every one of these groups. It is truly a funk that does not discriminate.

So WTF Philly? Why do you smell? Its not hot, quite brisk at a brisk 71 degrees during the day. Maybe it is all those Philly Cheesesteaks you eat. Maybe you are all huge Phillies fans and have sworn a vow of zero bathing for the playoffs. And that is the only acceptable explanation I will consider.

Cashman, help me out; have dudes in Philly always stunk? Can you confirm or deny the playoff theory? Is there a possible Philadelphia Eagles wildcard that Im completely failing to recognize?