Biiiicycle, BIIIIcycle, BIIIIICYCLE

Biiiicycle, BIIIIcycle, BIIIIICYCLE

It's ok Freddy, I don't believe in Peter Pan either. You are not alone in your skepticism. 

Wait, is Freddy Mercury still alive? Probably not. That's sad because I totally would have gotten along with him back in the day, because A- I would also never want to be the President of America; waaay too busy of a schedule going on already, pretty sure I don't have time for any of those shenanigans... and B- I want to ride MY bicycle. Like, everywhere, all day long, every day of the week, to every place I go. Its seriously, probably the greatest thing ever. I get on intending to go a mile and end up going four. And no, not always because I'm lost and can't find my way back. Only maybe 30% of the time.

I just love the feeling of fresh warm air blowing through my hair and not having anywhere in particular to go. Also, I feel very important on my bicycle. It makes me about 10 inches higher in life, and I have to sit extremely straight to stay on the seat because it has a slight forward tilt to it, which I'm sure is adjustable but the one time I tried moving it the handlebars got in my way an stabbed me in the eye so I got really mad and kicked it over and stormed off. But our spats are always very trivial and quickly passing so the next day I was back out riding it.

I love going on bike rides too because there is always so much interestingness out there. You don't have to go very far and you're pedaling down a dusty gravel road with hens and goats grazing on either side of the sort-of quaint, but mostly run down cottages. I ride around with my little white basket of flowers and fresh baguettes and I yell 'bonjour' to the animals and pretend I'm actually in some quiet little village outside Marseille. 

Then I get to the end of the street and the several million dollar estates with little mexicans grazing on either side, and I'm all, oh yeah- hi, America!

But still. My bicycle rocks, ya'll. 

Then I saw this coffee mug in Urban Outfitters and was like oh, whaaat? Was this mug made for me? I feel I would be messing up the order of things and letting down mother earth or something if I didn't buy this!

Right?? How cute is it?

Hens on the countryside in Marseille. Hey!! Fun fact: did you know that wheat grass can cure hens, of um, hen diseases and such like? (More to come)

Owner of hens: Very nice, friendly people.

Neighbour of Owner of hens: not-so-nice friendly people. I guess I was gawking a little too long cause they came out and got all 'Hey, Stare-y Manilow, whatcha lookin at?... Yeah, stop being such a Nosie O’Donnell'. 

SOrry, but like, you're not used to people passing by and staring a little? Ok maybe not stopping and taking out their giant cameras like me, and then asking you to take my photo in front of your 8 Lamborghinis, but still. You gotta be accustomed to some amount of gawkage.