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Today I took a wintry bike ride that I won’t tell you about, dear diary, because I already wrote about a bike ride yestermorning. Instead, I’ll just tell you stuff that you don’t want to hear.
As we were speeding down the street in a motor coach, heading to our local library, I looked out of the window. This was when I saw, atop the metal bars of the sewer grate, a donut.
The donut was glazed. I was able to see the object clearly because we had stopped at the stop sign that is just one block away from my apartment complex. When I saw the donut, I shouted “Look, there is a glazed donut in the sewer!” But I misspoke when I used the phrase “IN the sewer” because the donut was only ON the metal bars of the sewer grate.
After the library trip, I turned toward my companion and said, “Let’s take a ride – I’ll fetch my black mountain bike, and you can use your maroon 21-speed cruiser with the extra thin tires.” So we hoisted our bikes overhead and carried them out of the garage.
Yesterday I rode alone; today I had a companion. Now I beg you to remember that there is a stop sign at the end of our block. When we stopped our bikes there today, I leaned over and whispered to my biking companion as follows: “Look down at the sewer grate to your right.” I said this because the glazed donut was still there, on top of the grate, uneaten. Never in my life have I so fervently wanted to lick something.
An online article recently told me that almost nobody reads past the 1st paragraph of any blog post. Actually, I think the article said that nobody reads past the 1st SENTENCE of any blog post. That’s scary news, if you write blogs.
P.S.
Here’s a reading from my book Why I Am Not a Surrealist, which is yet another part of my big blue collection of self-amusements that can be captured in the amazon or otherwise.
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