Ghetto Thanks

I haven't been riding a bike much this week. After the Eligin 80 I had intentions of hopping on the new roadie and putting the miles, but a solid flu hit me, which I'm still trying to fight off. Lately the cold has manifested itself into my ear plugging it solid, making me feel as if I have one ear plug in all the time.

I started a new construction job today. Its funny how it seems construction is the job of choice for poor cyclists in Charlottetown. The list of construction monkey-cyclists these days are myself, Ryan Belli, Flan-jam, Derek, with of course Cory, Kent and Nick who are not so poor, and not so much monkeys as they employ the rest of us.

I don't mind working construction. You freeze your ass of most of the time but you learn real world knowledge, and get to hang out with the guys. It also teaches you the finer points in life to appreciate. After working construction you never look at a good coat, a sunny day or a good cup of coffee the same way again.

Thanksgiving was this weekend along with it was the annaul Ghetto Thanksgiving. Ghetto Thanks is like the Real Thanks but as if it were in the ghetto. Instead of turkey, we have KFC. Instead of stuffing you mom spent hours on, we have Stove Top. Instead of shirts and ties, we have shirtless and pantless. All the fixxin's are included but consist of chips, Joe Louis, and mystery wieners in a can. I'm sure they are a delicacy in Harlem.

.....And we all rejoice! It was a great hangover brunch!


(Cutting the Bird)










(The result)