Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Woe is me...sometime I feel like a motherless child...Iowa calls

Dear Diary:

Lat: 47 degrees North
Temp: 31 w/snow flakes

Given the weather, even after ordering a finger of rum to all enlisted, the men of the DBD are low. Only Crazy Horse and the Man-dog, Loki, seem game. Buffington has inexplicably disappeared; rumors abound from a solo sojourn vision-quest in the far reaches of the Arctic to running barefoot on some sissy-pants beach in domesticated Florida. Pramann is broken and only the scalpel can mend him. At the Club, Kershaw was found by a man-servant rocking to-and-fro in the fetal position mumbling something about the hinterlands of Iowa and that he wouldn’t be taken alive. Whilst in the red-light district of old Duluth, a wild-eyed Eki played Russian-roulette all night with a decreasing throng of ner-do-wells and thugs from the Hindu Kush. Iowa will be no picnic.
Pray for our eventual salvation,
Mallory

4 comments:

  1. Dr. Giggles was supposedly driving westbound from the Empire State to meet me in Illinois and then Drive to Iowa. According to the spot tracker that his wife inserted in his vehicle he has been seen veering off and cutting north thru Michigan. I sense that he is heading towards Ste.Sault Marie in an effort to avoid certain death in the ditches of Iowa.
    I will be riding solo.
    S.O.S.
    Ari

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  2. I have been reading Chuck's view of the world for years now, and I feel I must chime in. In some respects, I feel responsible for this blog; I introduced Charles to world of Cycling. Many of you may not be aware that Charlie's athletic prowess was nurtured on the gridiron. Yes, Charlie was an All American defensive nose guard, on the field and in the locker room, he became known as "Animal". In his college days he was so muscle bound his neck appeared to be missing. The spring of his senior year, he came to the understanding or possibly the realization his destiny was not the NFL; he set his sights higher. That summer he began to cycle the county roads SE Minnesota. On Wednesday evenings the local cycling club would meet for some rather intense rides. I'll never forget the grins on the skinny bikers as I showed up with this 200 pound grunt for a Wednesday night journey. Charlie was schooled that night, but learned quickly. The tradition of the Wednesday night rides was to be the first to the green village signs along the evening routes. The positioning and the final sprinting was fierce at times. Charlie brought the gridiron state of mind to the road; by the end of the summer he claimed his share of the village signs. Stormin’ Norm (Hopkins) would be proud of level of cycling you have achieved.
    Bike on Charlie!

    ReplyDelete
  3. 4th? The old man took 4th?

    Good Jorb!

    ReplyDelete

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