To see all the bullshit stories/rants/petty grievances of Kieran’s Humor go to https://kieranhumor.com. For more than half a century I took breathing for granted. Sure I would get out of breath on a mountain climb or a sprint, but then... hit 55 years old and dun, dun, dunnnn: I can't breathe just riding on a flat road. Started off slow. Allergies, I thought, just fucking allergies. Then one Saturday after helping the Boy and his friend knock back a 32-pack of Miller Lite the night before, we went riding from Sedona down Highway 89A toward Cottonwood. (Arizona has two highway 89's -- hence the "A"). Both douchebag millennials got flat tires. I was the only one with inner-tubes or air -- and the ability to change a bike tire.
Why do I call them douchebags? This kind of shit. It was getting close to 100-degrees in the sun. If I wasn't there, what was their plan? Dying of dehydration. Great plan douchebags. I was already out of breath from fighting the tire back onto the rim. Had to climb back up 1000 feet. They disappeared over the horizon like stealth fighter jets. I'm coughing and choking. My chest hurts. "Is that a pain going down my left arm?" "Does my jaw hurt or is that just the chin strap pulling at my 3-day beard hairs?" If you think this is funny or worth a read, you can tell Kieran's Humor that writing has value. Pledge a future subscription. You won't be charged unless they enable payments.
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Thursday, 31 October 2024
Fat Biker: Attack of the Asthma
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