Also, boo cats. One of the neighborhood cats has decided to make the doorway to the Mancave its very own litterbox. I didn't get around to picking it up, and now the poo is melting in the rain. A part of me dies every time I see it.
For the last couple of weeks, the rear brake on the CC has been making a terrible ruckus. I've been too lazy to deal with it, particularly since my commute is flat as a pancake. But the noise was just too unnerving this morning, coming down Grizzly Peak and Spruce. A quick check found that I had actually worn through most of the pads. I guess they went through many thousands of miles on the Atlantis. In fact, I don't remember ever replacing them.
Normally, I would have just spun this evening, but we're seeing the W's play the Spurs. I fear the holy hellfire Tim Duncan is going to unleash on the Warrior's front line. Good luck with that, Miki Moore.
No comments:
Post a Comment