So last week people celebrated the day I was cut out of my mother’s body. It really should be a celebration for my mom, who not only had to gestate and birth me, but then put up with me for 18 years.

One of my fabulous readers-turned-friend gave me some birthday gifts!

I just recently posted about being a bike lock failure, so my friend got me an insane U-lock that weighs more than a baby. This thing comes with a keyfob with a flashlight. It’s insane!!!

I had a dream the other day a car was messing with me and then got stopped at the light, and I pulled up along side them and smashed out their back window. PH33R ME AND MY BIKE LOCK!

The second gift, supposedly meant as a ‘gag gift’, was a ringer. My friend demanded that the ringer be put on my poor road bike (my bike’s pride was crushed).

So I show up at our pre-dawn ride and respond to him in only rings (briing. bring ring. riing).
Coming up on a bike path where people are just standing around, I realize this is prime time to use the ringer.
I start pounding on the ringer, but alas. They ignore it! I ding! I ring! I ring AND ding! Nada.

We ultimately realized that the ringer is not authoritative enough. It’s kind of a wussy ring.

Lesson learned – if you really want someone to hear you, knock ’em upside the head with your u-lock.