Long time, bloggerville. The wild shininess of Facebook has been dulling my sword, reducing poetic moments to 12 word boasts. I've been eying Livejournal like a familiar yet mildly disappointing ex-wife. Blogger, we'll see what comes of you yet. It is the dark months, time for brooding and declarations.

So, anways. I have an iffy garage door opener, and sometimes my bike doesn't make it in the garage when I get home at night. Only once has it locked me out of my main source of transportations. So, when the bike comes home, I have this cute bike stand thing and I lay down newspaper like a good boy because, ya know, the carpet was only a few years old when I moved in. ick. still, I don't like to clean shit anymore than absolutely necessary so down go the Sunday Times. Do that with an Ipad.

It's given me an opportunity to pay more attention to my bike, literally. It drips and makes little noises as it settles into the warmer living room. Oh, I don't really have a space designated for bikes inside, that was the point of the garage, dammit.

Point of this is, wow my bike is really dirty. All winter, I'm weekly wiping down the chain, applying heave weight oil for the winter grime, wiping the rims so they don't squeal (clean rims wear slower too) and knock the general grime out of the fenders. This leaves a large part of the bike that doesn't get cleaned. I'm impressed with just how much mud will stay on a bike. Photos in a minute