Just ask Sarah Palin! Retards are funny when it’s satire, like Rush Limbaugh, but she’s not laughing when she looks at us on bikes. She’s calling for our resignation. Wait a minute…is she retarded too? Yes, I guess she is. Boyhowdy, she’s as retarded as they come, but I digress.
But we’re the soft heads of the peloton, and we wholeheartedly accept that moniker. We should really get our own lanes and our helmets should be twice as big as anyone else’s.
We’ve made a little late night naughty-no-no rendezvous with the estimable Toto. Gaze upon this sultry image. Smells like wanton sex to me. Also smells like bananas and rum.
twirling towards freedom….
We’ve also made our way into mainstream life, for some folks who may not be of mainstream lifestyle, but have been forced to make their money therein. As a wise man once told us “the job is not who you are, it simply finances who you are.” Amen, brother Ed. So, if you’re stuck there for the time being, and need a reminder of real life, you can sticker your cubicle like the fair Alana, behold:
We’re right by the Output Room – which to us means “toilet”