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Cannondale Bad Boy 3 - Review (2 months later)

"hey try riding a bicycle to work, but your job is to carry a Glock 17 at the DMV! 🤣🤣🤣" --- Here's the quick stats: Expected basic maintenance costs $138.90 / year or 22 cents a mile Expected amortized hard costs $110.65 / year or 18 cents a mile Combined costs: $249.55 / year or 40 cents a mile --- I've had two flats in two months. ($5.95 * 2 = $11.90) * 6 = $71.40/year I've lubed up my bike, including to get rid of the annoying squeak that is common on the BB3 three times. Lube costs $30 for ~8 applications ($30 / 8) = $3.75 * (3 * 6) = $67.50 / year A lot of bicycle equipment I already had on hand from my Nishiki: Foot air pump - $36.99 Hand air pump - $14.99 U lock - $70.95 Multitool - $19.99 Tire levers - $4.50 Adapters - $7.83 (i got mire free from the nice guys at redacted ) Microfiber cloths - $14.99 Helmet - $35.99 Shoe rain covers - $74.99 1800 lumen light - $169.99 Motorcycle gloves - $26.99 Disposable gloves - $13.25 Then there'

Apostle John, Married

This is a epic prophetic confrontation with the universe itself, told by Joshua Brown, in 2023. photo from Pexels by artist Yuting Gao get in on the mailing list action | connect - share - support | a prophecy by Joshua Brown --- Fuck. My stars fuck. They fly into fucking asteroids. Star bursts. They fuck up the infinity of scientists by their stupid little fucking moments paused at to just fuck with the observers here on earth. Freaky stupid astronomers and primary care doctors are too horny to even ever notice the blue shift cast by those stars as they switch up the movement along that corridor of time to grasp at some finite place along the double infinity of planes crossing. Can those driving the cart ever notice the friction point of those wheels along the loose gravel and will we ever notice that the stars are just fucking with us, playing demonstrations of stories portrayed by centurions and celebs? Can we see the drama or is it real to us, just a fucking piece of history, the

Sleeping Beauty

This is a story about space exploration, self-knowledge, bravery and community. photo from Pexels by artist Civan D get in on the mailing list action | connect - share - support | a short story by Joshua Brown --- I was on a spaceship, made of cotton candy. There were a few bites with that sticky sugar glossed impression shimmering back into the darkness all around, casting the rays of light criss-crossing the galaxy back in a multiplicity of new destinations, denying them their evolutionary fate, my will against theirs. There were carmel-filled chocolate bars sleeping on their way to some new fusion-massed star, bored of that existence they had lived in for who knows how many years. The gravity of my cotton candy ride imperceptibly adjusting their destination to escape velocity and complete atomic annihilation, sorry dude. I was on my way to a wall. It was a black wall. We knew it existed because of science. LOL, get a load of this, we KNOW it exists. And I was on my way there. I’m

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