Soaked

F you Slurry Beta. If you woulda gotten off your ass three years ago and actually made biking chaps a reality, I wouldn’t be in the predicament I am now. Had to go home over lunch to sell some shit we don’t want to take across the country. Wouldn’t ya know it, light rain starts as I am helping the lady, who was 15 mins late, put the dresser into her SUV. Go inside, gather my stuff, check again that there is nothing in the fridge to eat, and decide I should hit the road before the rain gets too bad. I grab the goretex shell for the torso, but risk the jeans because it is just too damn hot (88 in the rain, motherfucker) to go slip the pants shell over my jeans. But guess what? Too late, dude. I get two blocks away, still four from work, and it opens up. Torrential. Mother. Fucker. Probably just 15 mins too late, too; thanks a lot lady.



But really, I blame Beta. He talked and talked and talked about biking chaps, how they were gonna revolutionize commuting, how the tops of your jeans would never be wet again. But no. Idle chit chat. Grow a pair, dammit! Make biking chaps happen already! What the else you gonna be doin’ with that fancy law degree?



I am soaking fucking wet right now. My undies are wet, this is gross. My shaved head is dripping. I am surly as hell. And hungry. I have 4 and a half hours left at work. I SAY EFFF YOOUUUUU, man!



In Seattle, I’ll have to be better prepared.