You’re perhaps thinking that I have a somewhat kinky blog title, huh? Well get your mind out of the gutter! I’m obviously talking about pizza here. Sheesh.

I checked in this morning with my behind-the-scenes-access to Missingsaddle which allows me to write blogs, moderate comments, and basically organize this site. (Tech-mology!) There’s this cool feature that somehow tracks what else is happening out there on the blogging information superhighway related to “Ted King” …the cyclist that is, not the soap opera actor by the same distinguished name. The first one I checked was He’s an east coast UNH buddy of mine with a laugh out loud hilarious blog. Dry humor. If you don’t get it, well then you just don’t get it.

The next one I checked was titled The Central Scrutinizer. I’m pretty amped that there are people interested in my life to such a degree that they blog about me… especially since my life is consumed by three very rudamentary things: eat, internet, ride. Alas, I’m flattered and found this blog quite entertaining. It recaps my experience of finding my cell phone in my pocket during stage 3 of California. You may notice, however, that calling Dominoes just won’t do, when there’s HOT AND READY LITTLE CEASARS pizza readily available throughout California…


(And to answer the Scrutinizer’s question about the mirrored pictures, when I close my flip phone, the camera feature still works, but you’re taking the pictures upsidedown and backwards from the standard camera feature. Then the camera has the sense to put the upside up, but doesn’t know to mirror it back to normal. Hense backwards pictures.) 

Sooo a Tour of California recap? It rained a lot. Oh, and it was pretty hard. And for those of you who wonder why I’m listed as DNS, I actually DNF’d. And as lame as it is to blame it on mechanical problems, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I had some very untimely flat tires towards the top of the final stage’s 40 mile climb. In fact two flats within about three miles. I chased once, caught on, hit a massive pothole so that it was a near miracle I even stayed upright, but flatted again. I chased a second time in vain, so please understand that I’m not one to quit a 700 mile tour with less than 50 miles to go without (semi valid) excuse. And don’t blame BenO for the flats, because they were both on account of some pretty horrendous Californian roads that haven’t been paved since the advent of asphalt sometime around 1921.

Good day.

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