mizarchivist

So, today was the day I'd planned to put my motorcycle into storage up in Salem. I'd not ridden in a month- again- but the gas line hoses were still whole and there was fuel in the tank. I refueled and got on the highway only to have my acceleration evaporate right before the Winn St. exit of 95. I get off, go to HOVIR and I seem to be fine. Call for backup.

quiet_elegance arrives- we try again with him tailing. Uhhhhm, about a mile and change down the highway, it does it again. Frrrreak. Out. Bail. Time to go home, if we can. Get off at Washington St. My first attempt to get us through the backroads ends in a roadblock, we circle back, try a few miles further, get to Main St. in Woburn to see that there's a big effin' festival, and get diverted. Circle round again, only to come back to more roadblock. I'd regained my calm by this point except for the hysterical laughter, and take over navigation from q_e- finally hop over the trouble spot and get home about the same time we'd be getting back from Salem if the venture had been successful. But by the time we were done getting lost, I wasn't freaked out and afraid of my bike anymore, so at least we were back to exactly zero instead of negative 100. But this still means I need to get the bike out of the back yard before it snows.

Some humorous asides since getting home that have caused me to fall back into uncontrolable giggles-

purple_terror (on the barrel of Utz cheezy poofs that arrived last night with a "friend" - we were commenting on how stranglely tasty they were and how could that be, and he said: "I was wondering that to, until I looked at the ingredients and saw that it's made from the tears of children.

again, a few minutes later-
p_t: "Happy St. Crispin's Day"
me: "Oh, uh... thanks. What's the appropriate gift for St. Crispin's Day?"
p_t: "Naked dead Frenchmen?"

[ba-dum-ching!]

So, all's well that ends well, and there will be some booze with dinner, I do declare.