I Don't Want To Die; I Just Want To Ride My Motorcy...cle...To Work

Today I rode my bike to work. And while it's a little weird to have a coat thrown over the back of my desk chair in August, it was a lot of fun. My new bike is much taller than my old bike, so I can get a good look at all the cars before they attempt to kill me.

Anyone who's ever ridden a motorcycle through traffic can confirm this - they *are* trying to kill you. I don't know why, but they are, and it makes for an exciting trip.

I also like my heated handgrips. Toasty palms make all the difference.

And it's fun to give a subtle nod to the Vice President of Circulation, the man who used to be your bosses' boss but is now just some schmo in a polo shirt, averting his eyes from the MYSTERIOUS DEATH WARRIOR ON THE GIANT DOOMCYCLE. That tinted faceshield for my helmet was the best twenty bucks I ever spent.

I'm trying to distract myself from missing Penny, if you can't tell. Whoo, I miss 'er.

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