Occasionally, when Mongo needs a good night's sleep, he takes a couple of Goody's PM powders. They have the effect of a Marlin Perkins tranquilizer dart on me, and I'm out for a crazy dream filled eight hours.
I woke up around seven this morning from my Fellini Satyricon coma and checked the weather to see if I'd be riding today. It didn't look good... The temperature was seventeen degrees with a high on the day of thirty five.
At that point I was resigned to a day of housework and football.
Then it hit me...What would Ned do?
Ned would get off his lazy, excuse makin', fat ass, and then layer up, get out, and ride. So that's exactly what Mongo did. Big Mistake!
It was definitely way too cold to be riding and all my exposed skin froze immediately. Eight brutal miles later, Mongo called it a day.
I may be easily inspired, but unfortunately I have the cold tolerance of a Chihuahua.
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