Presto

I've been riding my new bike around a lot more than I did on Ol' Blue. I love this new one. Light, FAST (21 speeds. I musta been doing 40 down the hill on 15th just west of Peoria), and sturdy. I think it's a girl's bike. When I went to the pawn shop, all the modern-looking mountain bikes had oddly shaped frames that seem to have no gender like the traditional designs. I just picked out the Diamond Back, which was also of a modern design, and called it a done deal. I am starting to suspect, however, that mine is a girl's bike. Motherfuck. At least I won't blast my balls on the lower-than-usual cross-bar if I wreck.
I rode along the river observing the life forms. The homeless river rats seem to be in good spirits these days.( Yes, I see the possible play on words but that's too easy.). The milder temperatures have been kinder to their tortured brains. I pity them. I envy them. I'm sure they are disgusted with my pity as they are with my envy. Even so, I wish them well.
Here's a good snack to make and you can do it drunk:
Grind a handful of sweet rice, uncooked, in your electric coffee grinder. Get it as fine as you can, bitch.
Add to this about 2 tablespoons or so of melted butter, margarine, whateverthefuck, and enough water to make batter about the consistency of pancake batter. DON'T USE MILK! Unless you want it fucked up. Dollop this a spoonful at a time onto you George Foreman gorilla Machine or a skillet and cook 'em up until just lightly golden. Sometimes these things gimme heartburn like a mug, but they're easy and scrump-shus..........Whore.
It's supposed to get cool again this week. I'd like some rain. I love to hear the sound of cars going down Riverside in the rain. I like to see neon signs at night reflected in the slick pavement. Someone's gonna get laid. Someone's gonna get killed. Someone's gonna get busted and someone's gonna walk out with the bank.
Such is the nature of a rainy night in Tulsa.