"Tragedy occurred in Lawrenceville, Pittsburgh a few days ago. Pants by the name Navy McCorduroy lost their life to a bagofpotatosteadying-low squat. McCorduroy is survived by its loving yet sometimes neglectful owner and an identical twin named Gray McCorduroy. You were my friend since high school McCordy; I'll miss you dearly."
This is not the first pants-centric obituary I have felt obligated to write. In fact, ever since I became a cyclist, I have lost more pairs of pants/shorts than I can bear to think about. I have asked around, and I am not the only person who feels this way. Bicycles are serial killers of pants, and I haven't figured out whether to classify these selfish crimes as manslaughter or murder of the first degree. I don't have a motive yet, but I am convinced my bike feels some enjoyment out of thrashing holes in the inner thigh of every thing I wear.
The serious question becomes, is there a fund that supports grieving victims of lost pants, because I haven't been replacing the casualties and I am running out of bottoms.
Naked bike for life?!?!?!? (ouch)
-The Velodict
No comments:
Post a Comment