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Dear Silver-Shorts Cyclist

26 Jan

The weather’s getting beautiful here in South Texas. Just like the swallows return to Capistrano, the Lycra-clad return to the roadways.  And so there you were, stopped at the light, right next to the car window.

Good for you for seizing the day.  And for wearing a helmet. And for following traffic laws. I used to bike quite a bit myself, and I’m happy to share the road.

But I need to let you in on something.

Those shiny silver bike shorts? They’re conspiring against you, dude. Too small. A little sweaty. And obviously worn on quite a few rides.

And that, my two-wheeling friend, is the holy trinity of unholy transparency.

Repeat after me. Aerodynamic, good. See-through, bad. It makes for some hairy conversation with kids in the car. Speaking of hairy, it’s a quick pedal to Jeanette’s Salon in Stone Oak, and they have a *great* waxer there. You’ll be more aerodynamic.

Before you head out again, do yourself a favor. Put your shorts on.  Get them a little damp. Reach over and touch your toes and have someone take a picture from behind out in the midday sun. If you could then play connect-the-dots with your posterior pimples, it’s time for new shorts.


Bleaching my Eyes

Dear Gray Hair, Part 2

14 Jan


Suck it.

Dear Gray Hair

13 Jan


Oh, come on. Give a girl a break. It’s like one of those parties that someone posts on Facebook and the next thing you know, there are 500 people there and the police are involved. Just stop, ok? Come back in 20 years. I’ll still dye you into oblivion, but I won’t be so bitter about it.


I’ve got a bottle of L’Oreal with your names on it. Well, not really because there are TOO MANY OF YOU TO NAME.

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