Me and My Third Ass
I developed a third ass cheek since 5/11/07. Something was brewing but as this has happened many times before and usually I can lance it, not this time. This one stayed deep. I'd even gotten out my dissecting kit from college days, 22 yrs ago, to cut that alien out. Even with the scaple buried a 1/4 " deep into my third ass I couldn't get the pus monster out. This was going to be a battle. Monster vs. Me!
So that was wednesday nite 5/9/07. By friday, 5/11/07/ things were pretty much stable between me and my third ass. I had already registered for Joe Martin and there's was no turning back because of an extra ass. The drive down friday nite wasn't all that bad until I got out of the car in Fayetteville. MOHTERFUCKER! My third ass was growing and hurting.
The first stage on sat was a 46 mile road race. By the end my third ass was being all negative. Having to do most of the chasing with 2 other guys didn't help. I got done and my third ass wasn't going to let me sit down and relax. It was possible but I had to lean to the right alot.
The TT was was 4 hrs later and things got worse. Gettin on the bike to warm up took some time to find the right position. Sydney mentioned see could see my third ass through my shorts. It was a battle draggin' my third ass for 2.5 miles up hill at an average of 6.8%. I couldn't sit when I wanted to ride the tops and power up. My third ass wouldn't let me sit that far back in the saddle.
That nite in the smokey super 6, non ac working, shower failing room sucked. If you're ever in Fatville, Ar. don't get room 240 at the super SICKS. Ok back to my ass. Lucky Morgan had crashed and got a concussion otherwise I wouldn't have had any hydrocodone to make me forget about my third ass. That and a whiskey and coke, with 3 beer chasers will make you have dreams about mud. Not just any run of the mill mud but mud that makes you laugh in your sleep. Don't remember much of that dream just what my roomies told me.
The next day at the crit there's was no way I was goin' to get my third ass up on that saddle. I was leanin' extensively to the right at breakfast. It was a chore just to get up and get a second helping of the buffet and sit back down. I wasn't about to let my third ass stop me from a breakfast buffet.
At the race I sat my third ass down on the end of the bleachers, literally hanging it over the edge, to watch Syd's race. Race done, go back and pick up consussion girl and her friend, steal a super sucks pillow for my third ass and drive back 7 hrs.
Now the good part. That nite back in Lincoln my third ass decided it was time to evacuate my body. Woke up in a wet spot. I thought the hydrocodone had made me pee the bed. Nope! It was third ass. I'd never been so happy in my life at 4am. Even when I went to the doctors I really didn't explain how bad my ass was. I was just feeling 100% better. What I thought was weird though was the doctor told my to pull my pants down to have a look at my ass but didn't remove the bandage. He says if it's drainin' then I don't need to cut it open. Gave me some antibiotics and sent my ass on its way out the door. I'm sure he was grinnin' at that call ( $100 to see your sorry ass). Thanks! and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
Day 2 and my ass is still drainin'. I'm off the bike for a week. Won't be doin' the the state time trial. Time to get a new saddle. Time to stock up on some ass cream. Time heals all wounds. Time to motherfucking go.
MOTHER.
So that was wednesday nite 5/9/07. By friday, 5/11/07/ things were pretty much stable between me and my third ass. I had already registered for Joe Martin and there's was no turning back because of an extra ass. The drive down friday nite wasn't all that bad until I got out of the car in Fayetteville. MOHTERFUCKER! My third ass was growing and hurting.
The first stage on sat was a 46 mile road race. By the end my third ass was being all negative. Having to do most of the chasing with 2 other guys didn't help. I got done and my third ass wasn't going to let me sit down and relax. It was possible but I had to lean to the right alot.
The TT was was 4 hrs later and things got worse. Gettin on the bike to warm up took some time to find the right position. Sydney mentioned see could see my third ass through my shorts. It was a battle draggin' my third ass for 2.5 miles up hill at an average of 6.8%. I couldn't sit when I wanted to ride the tops and power up. My third ass wouldn't let me sit that far back in the saddle.
That nite in the smokey super 6, non ac working, shower failing room sucked. If you're ever in Fatville, Ar. don't get room 240 at the super SICKS. Ok back to my ass. Lucky Morgan had crashed and got a concussion otherwise I wouldn't have had any hydrocodone to make me forget about my third ass. That and a whiskey and coke, with 3 beer chasers will make you have dreams about mud. Not just any run of the mill mud but mud that makes you laugh in your sleep. Don't remember much of that dream just what my roomies told me.
The next day at the crit there's was no way I was goin' to get my third ass up on that saddle. I was leanin' extensively to the right at breakfast. It was a chore just to get up and get a second helping of the buffet and sit back down. I wasn't about to let my third ass stop me from a breakfast buffet.
At the race I sat my third ass down on the end of the bleachers, literally hanging it over the edge, to watch Syd's race. Race done, go back and pick up consussion girl and her friend, steal a super sucks pillow for my third ass and drive back 7 hrs.
Now the good part. That nite back in Lincoln my third ass decided it was time to evacuate my body. Woke up in a wet spot. I thought the hydrocodone had made me pee the bed. Nope! It was third ass. I'd never been so happy in my life at 4am. Even when I went to the doctors I really didn't explain how bad my ass was. I was just feeling 100% better. What I thought was weird though was the doctor told my to pull my pants down to have a look at my ass but didn't remove the bandage. He says if it's drainin' then I don't need to cut it open. Gave me some antibiotics and sent my ass on its way out the door. I'm sure he was grinnin' at that call ( $100 to see your sorry ass). Thanks! and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
Day 2 and my ass is still drainin'. I'm off the bike for a week. Won't be doin' the the state time trial. Time to get a new saddle. Time to stock up on some ass cream. Time heals all wounds. Time to motherfucking go.
MOTHER.
Labels: back that ass up
posted by Marc Walter at
8:58 AM
3 Comments:
Thanks. I've made it my goal in life to never have one of those again. I'll pay for an extra nice chamois. Anyone have any ideas on some bulk, cheap ass cream.
The three contact points on a bike are well worth investing in. Hands, feet, and ass.
And now for something completely the same?
wow... that's quite a tale.
for cheap ass cream, try bag balm. it's basically cream designed to keep cow's udders soft and supple (for farmers who milk their cows). it's as good as chamois butter, imho.
i've also heard of people using breadeaux butt paste, a diaper rash remedy. never tried the shit myself, but it might be worth a look too.`
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