Not me

For those wondering, that's not me on the bike, although I have had experiences like that. I guess I have a sick interest in the burning flesh and clanging steel of a bike crash. They're something to behold. When you crash on a bike, there is not really much to protect you, other than a helmet. The lycra is thin, so it shreds like paper as you slide across the road, thereby exposing your wonderful, pale epidermis to the harshness of the pavement. You can actually smell the burning of the flesh.

We have a filly on the farm. Her name is Asheera. She kicked me in the thigh last night while I was trying to corral her into the stall. A few inches higher and the essence of manhood would have taken the shot. Steph said I was christened. I don't know. I always thought christenings were a pleasant experience...