Making the most of it, and you're welcome

Although recent events hardly make this holiday pleasurable, don't forget that today is Bike Messenger Appreciation Day. Hug a messenger, buy him a PBR, or fill out his unemployment paperwork for him... do something else (maybe a little soft shoe or juggling performance) to show him (or her) how much you care. Remember, if you got it, a truck brought it, but a bike messenger filed the documents at the courthouse that kept the trucker outta jail when he got drunk and ran over some mail boxes along the way.

In an effort to keep myself current on all things cycling I have resorted to going to the main branch of the Public Library of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County. Now that my internet access is gone at the satellite office I saw no other alternative if I wanted to keep things here on the blog timely and relevant. How else would I keep up with the status of my "friends" and see what the hot topics are on the 29'er forum (head angles and big tires? Wow.)? Anyways, I've been to the Virtual Village three times in the last 2.5 days. I have seen some interesting things while surfing the web or waiting for my turn at a keyboard.

One gentleman was watching bootylicious rap videos blown up to full screen for the world to share in his viewing pleasure. I do believe I like big butts, and I can not lie.

An older white haired lady was watching a youtube video... but one of those videos where there is no video, just an image of the performer displayed while the song plays in the background. This is not abnormal, but the fact that the performer was a teenaged diva and the older white haired lady had her eyes closed while she danced and sang out loud was... ummmmm... disturbing.

And yesterday was the capper. Two people were on the computer behind me. While the man was clicking and clacking away on the keyboard his female companion had her head down on the desk. I wouldn't have looked back, but when someone approached and asked if they needed an ambulance my morbid curiosity got the best of me. She was still sitting with her head down, but there was a large amount of orange puke at her feet. Kinda like this:

Eventually security showed up, followed by a clean up crew, two medics, and three firemen. It was like a mini parade in the basement of the library... minus the candy, but plus one pile of vomit.

Let's just say I can't wait to get to the library again today. If there's nothing new on the interweb there's always people watching.

This sporadic access to the interweb has kept me from perusing my favorite online periodical of all time, XXC Magazine. This is Jason Mahokey's fourth publication of the magazine, and each one is better than the last. I'm not blowing smoke up your ass either. This is what I want from a magazine. If I wanted beer reviews I'd go down to the Common Market and see what the pretentious hipsters are drinking. "How's that Drunken Giraffe Ale? Do you find the Pregnant Nun IPA a bit too hoppy? Is the Unemployed Messenger Stout as bitter as they say?" I'm sure they'd let me know if I asked nicely and pretended to be one of them.

What was I talking about? Of yeah, XXC Magazine. Like I said, I used to get a chance to read it in its entirety while I was at work, but since the articles are a bit more involved than the average magazine offers I have not had the spare time to dedicate myself to a good solid reading yet. I did peruse the topics, and a quick scan revealed an interview with Gerry Pfl... I mean "The Pflug". Jason tried to get to the bottom of "The Pflug's" strange dietary habits, but "The Pflug" dodged the hard questions like a true pro. Anyways, I was mentioned in the article, and that's all that really matters. Chalk up one more mention in the mass media. Now if Jason could just get this magaine done up in a glossy print version so I could carry it around at work I'd have something to do during the day that didn't involve strange people trying to vomit on me.

Do yourself a favor and stop being so productive at work. We're all gonna lose our jobs eventually, so spend your time at work entertaining and informing yourself with issue number four of XXC. If you don't click over you'll miss some really cool stuff, like this picture of Garth "Sideshow" Prosser curled up in the fetal position after being told the local dred salon was outta patchouli.