No Matter What
But grumpy or not only a world-class shit for brains would intentionally miss a Fiasco without a good reason. So I zipped the fake fur liner out of my dads overcoat, put some beer in a back pack, pulled on my ski mask and pedaled into the brisk night air.
Fun cures all.
This is the hat that I wish I was wearing on Saturday. The unnamed lifetime member for life in this photo makes the hat look pretty damn good. I think I could make make it look positively out of this world.
Our route took 65 FBCers into hinterlands that are inner ring St. Louis County and ultimately to the top of the ever formidable Deer Creek sledding hill. Participation in the 10-speed gravity race and fixed gear slow race down the steep, damp, sewer-lidded, grass hill was disappointingly lackluster. But, despite the fact that only about 15 adventurous racers faced the hill on two wheels, there was plenty of excitement. The beaver crashed so hard it knocked his construction paper buck teeth right out.
Who knew the dude from that movie 'Tron' was in the Fucking Bike Club? And, for Christ's sake, why is he walking down the hill? It's kind of embarrassing.
When everyone made it to the bottom of the hill, regardless of whether they got down the awesome way, or the old lady way, we headed to Cousin Hugo's Ski Lodge just on the other side of the creek.
The Full Moon Fiasco has touched down at Cousin Hugo's before. Last time we were there, the bartender gave us a free bottle of green Pucker. We gave him a spoke card. They've still got it. I offer this as photographic proof.
I think everyone knows by now, that after the first stop, all bets are off. Fiasco #32 was no exception. Different groups went different places. The group I was in looped the shit out of some loops on the way to Foley's which I now know is in fact not a 3 o'clock bar. Then we went to Cusamano's which I now know is in fact not a cool place to go. Another interesting fact about Cusamano's is that a bottle of Busch beer cost $4, but you can get one sip for free if you are John Patterson.
Hey Adrian, nice ship!