Ouch, that's gonna hurt in the morning

So I'm done with Booty for the year. Not that kind of Booty, I'm totally NOT done with that booty, but the 24 Hours of Booty bike ride is done for me for the year. I had to bail mid-afternoon to deal with stuff for the show tonight, like taking a shower and running off more programs ( one of my favorite problems to have, because it means I underestimated the number of people who would come to the show!)

I didn't come anywhere close to the 90 miles you nice people paid good money for, but I really appreciate you donating anyway. I'll post pictures soon of me in the silly stretchy shorts (I actually have a very nice ass, thank you very much!), and one of me in the kilt and our custom Team Barbizon jersey, because if you've got the balls to walk around in those silly bike shorts, then wearing a kilt ain't nothin', and vice versa.

UDATE - As promised, a picture of me in the outfit.

I managed 8 laps, or 24 miles, and feel like if I hadn't lost several hours due to monsoon-like conditions last night, and hadn't had to bail early tonight to go to my show, I could have done 12-14 laps pretty easy. It's actually not a bad ride, with only one big stupid hill to make it up, and every time I went round, just about the time I thought "fuck I'm gonna die" I made it 'round the corner and could see the stop sign up ahead that signaled the crest of the hill.

I did get a little choked up this morning when one of the innumerable people that passed me (Jebus, some of these fuckers are fast!) had a tag on his back that said "In Memory of My Wife Linda." That kinda summed up the enormity of the cultural loss that cancer has inflicted on us. It sickens me that we can spends billions and billions of dollars figuring out how to give Bob Dole a better boner, but we still can't, with any certainty, cure cancer. And it seems like everything causes cancer nowadays, from sunlight to red meat, to not enough sunlight, to not enough red meat. But the fight goes on, not just for those folks that are suffering from the disease in all its myriad forms, but also in the labs, where people like Byron work to find a cure.

So thanks to all that donated, it meant a lot to me, and some of that money will go directly to local cancer funds, and some is distributed nationally to the Lance Armstrong Foundation. I got a lot more out of this ride than just a duffel bag, pair of socks, a jersey and a blowed-up iPod shuffle (they don't likey the drenching too much, in case you're thinking of wearing yours in a downpour). I'll ride again next year, so start saving up, because I want to double my funds raised next year. I want the yellow jersey, bitches! And in this ride, you don't get the yellow for going fast, you get it for going the extra mile. Thanks again, now I gotta go take about fourteen motrin and pour a quart of baby powder in my underpants.

See you in Vegas December 6-10!