Had the first official ride with the boys yesterday, operating under the gang name “The Deities.” We rolled down 407 after a brief interruption for gas and headlight maintenance. I’d never been down that road; it was virtual reality Road Rash with zero pixelation, tons of curves and a single stoplight. We were gods propelling steel and chrome at incredible speeds. Gorgeous scenery, lots of trees and fresh air, and a touch of panic about grease streaks on the pavement made for an exciting ride. I can’t wait to hit it in the fall when the weather cools, and we can cruise comfortably under the hellish Texas daystar.
After the 407 run we stopped by a gas station and then hung out at Adam’s for a while. I bought a Snickers (apparently now the official candy bar of Peanutopolis). I haven’t eaten a candy bar in years, maybe. It was fucking delicious. Josie will be elated that I’ve decided to hoard chocolate for Armageddon (Achocolypse? No, nevermind). Luxury item + mondo sugar infusion + touch of caffeine = valuable surplus.
Once we’d finished eating our rations and ripping on Plaxico Burress, we headed back out, out to the shadowy borders of Denton, the veiled country roads where we could practice the dark arts: blowing stuff up. Fireworks that is, God Bless the Chinese. We only got through four mortars before paranoia set in and we abandoned our spot. When I was a defiant teen, I wouldn’t have given a righteous shit about the cops. Now some color bombs in the middle of the country make me nervous. Maybe I’ve got more to lose now. Maybe the Panopticon has its tentacles deeper in me. Maybe I’m not a dumbass like my buddy Plaxico, and I don’t want to ruin a good thing with gratuitous pyrotechnics.
I suppose that time will tell.