Humorous travelblog and website for Peter H. Fogtdal, author, raccoon lover, human being.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Dammit, I Missed The Naked Bike Ride in Portland (Sweaty Balls and All)
I'm still disappointed I didn't make it to The Naked Bike Ride Saturday night in Portland. All those bloated bellies and saggy balls flapping in the wind.
My Pale Girlfriend and I wanted to go, but as everybody knows it's hard work getting naked. First you have to take off your clothes, then you have to make sure that your genitals are behaving.
But if God has blessed you with a great body, you have a responsibility to flaunt it. I don't mean to brag but I'm a 53 year old with a body of a 52 year old. I belonged in that race, and I wasn't going to wear a sissy helmet or a g-string like all the Germans I know.
The ride is part of The World Naked Bike Ride, an annual occurrence in Portland, San Francisco, and several degenerate cities in Europe. I've heard they even have one at Guatanamo bay. This year thousands of Portlanders biked through downtown to prove that riding naked is the thing to do when it's 56 degrees and your nipples are as hard as kidney stones.
But as I said we never made it. My Pale Girlfriend and I had just stripped naked when we found a mouse in the house. The mouse raced through the apartment and hid under the sofa. I tried to get it out with a broom. When that didn't work I went New Age on the rodent. "I see God in you, so get the fuck out of there before I call Rent-a-Cat."
And it's true. I don't want to kill any animal on earth; it's only people I feel like terminating. God, we did everything in our power to get rid of the mouse. First, we put on a noisy fan, then we ran around screaming like maniacs.
"No, we have to do something nastier than that," I said to my girlfriend and played some Country music, but the mouse still stayed put. Later we found out that it had built a nest under one of the cushions. It was quite comfortable there. The mouse munched on our goat cheese and my liver pate - it even enjoyed watching Judge Judy.
So My Pale Girlfriend and I missed The Naked Bike Ride. And I wanted to go so badly - not to show off my ten inches (I have a long collarbone), but to teach people how vulnerable cyclists are in traffic. You see, The Naked Bike Ride in Portland is not about testicles. It's an homage to naked cyclists who are killed every day - by truck drivers wearing too much clothes.
So it's high times that we take action. And Saturday millions of cyclists made the kind of political statement that can bring world leaders to their knees - at least if we hand them a pair of binoculars.
Posted by Danish Accent at 5:20 PM 1 comment:
Labels: Critical Mass, Judge Judy, Keep Portland weird, Lance Armstrong, mice catching, The World Naked Bike Ride
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