





Okay, okay, OKAY ALREADY. I've heard the complaints, so here are some images that aren't food porn.


bicycling, gardening, homebrewing, vegan cooking, home renovation, baseball, travel, and other fun activities in california. uhhh... utah. australia. alaska. atlanta. california. nyc. ohio. nyc. ohio. massachusetts. new jersey. west virginia. califfornia. hell, I don't know.
Though marvelously dressed, Spanish men often accompany their wardrobe with a finger in their nose. There is something about the climate or allergens in Spain that makes mucous glands run on overdrive. After about a week of being here, I understand the need for Madrileños to probe their nostrils in search of a green gooey reward. I take a more refined approach to my menacing mucus and blow my nose often, yet the snot never seems to stop. Even mucous glands cannot resist the vigor and vitality of Spain.Okay, now I really have to get some other stuff done, like send in my passport for renewal.
"The nose picking here is continuous," said 22-year-old Palo Alto student Cristina Mireles."I suppose the people here must have really dry boogers or enjoy it (nose picking) as a hobby."
Driving back from Death Valley to Beatty, Nevada, NPR gave about ten seconds to reporting that Iran is threatening to pull out of the nuclear non-proliferation treaty, and about four minutes to whether sandwiches are better cut diagonally or crosswise.
I was up the ass crack of dawn to help at the vigil, only to find out it was a false alarm. Now preparing for other (real) stuff.
Tomorrow I go into high gear. As if a century ride isn't high enough. (Yes, I'm calling it a century, notwithstanding the missing 0.8 miles.)
A lovely weekend in arizona with great people. Busy and tiring, sure, but well worth it. I'll try to get up some images soon.
With one exception, the Sierra Vista police department was uniquely professional. One insecure, chest puffing turd with two little stars on his lapel was an ass, but every other officer I dealt with was just doing their job, calmly and dispassionately.
If only I could say the same for the obnoxious rude bigoted ignorant trash who made up the vast majority of the counterprotesters. From the scumbags on motorcycles who intentionatally tried to make their flapping flags hit us as they drove by (nice job swatting that ocotillo tree, dumbass) to the screeching troglodyte with the megaphone who was out again spewing venom, to the hateful trash with the bizarre anti-priest signs, it was an appallingly ugly display of poisonous human nature.
Sitting on a tiny plane from TUS to SLC, so over halfway done with trip #4 of 6 in three months, with one more to book (might be Barcelona!) Listening to the fantastic tribute album to Springsteen's Nebraska, Badlands.
Now if only there was any good food in the SLC airport. At least the local brews in the Sky Club will ease the pain: last time through, it was Park City Steamer (surprisingly excellent) and Uinta Golden Spike Hefeweizen (mediocre but drinkable.)