Bark > Bite or: While My Guitar Gently Pees

Last weekend I went to the land of the Blurry People, and only now have I recovered enough to write this report. 

Because the Blurry People are not fully solid, they can--like the Flash--vibrate through obstacles such as walls, large rocks, mountains, etc. Further research is needed, as I have no proof to support my claim. Here, however are the observations upon which my theory is based. To my shame, I finished only one of two laps in last weekend's bicycle race, and the blurriest of the blurry people completed both laps in nearly the same time. Ergo, while he was entered in the same bicycle race as I, clearly he could not have been riding a bicycle, as they simply cannot go that fast. 

While I rode with a three-liter water reservoir on my back (which I filled twice), I only just yesterday peed pee that was more like pee than it was like maple syrup, and the fastest of the blurry people didn't seem to have a water bottle with him. 

You most likely don't care what happened to me out there, but here's what happened to me out there. First, all 350 of us lined up in town and followed a police escort for the first three paved miles. The escort's pace was leisurely for about a block, but then picked up substantially. I became quickly aware of exactly where in my digestive track the previous evening's tacos were. Somewhere in this drag race for the trailhead, I passed my friend Phillip on his single speed. Phillip himself is more or less a Blurry Person, but on flat paved roads he goes an entertaining kind of half-blurry, and he was making that warbley bongo drum sound that Scooby Doo makes when he starts running but has not yet moved. Then we hit the trailhead, Phillip passed me on the first hill, and I never saw him again (until they started passing out free beer at the finish (Phillip definitely goes Full Blurry after a few beers)). 

The rest of the first lap was awesome. Once the riders started spreading out at the bottleneck disappeared, high-speed wrecks started to occur. Every five or so minutes I saw somebody go down rather spectacularly. No injuries. At some point I went down in some soft sand, and it wouldn't be until hours after the race that I found the cactus needles in my right leg that I probably picked up at the same time. They looked exactly like the blowgun darts seen at the beginning of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, which might explain why I began to spontaneously combust toward the race's end.

About five miles short of the end of the first lap, I got hungry. I took food with me, but the problem was that I made my own energy bars a few days before the race, comprised of 75% sticky rice and %25 bacon. The thing about sticky rice is that in three days time it becomes Incredibly Sticky Rice. It will stick to your jersey pocket. It will stick to tin foil. When you try to spit it out because you can't breathe around it, it will stick to your dusty mouth. When you try to put it back in your pocket, it will stick to your glove. It will set up in your mouth exactly like tile grout (trust me (that's a story for another day)) and will not nourish you like bicycle race food should. It will nourish you as effectively as a round of Chubby Bunnies.

Here's how a real bike rider looks during a race:

And this is me completing lap number one:

So while I thought I was taking a trip to the land of the Blurry People, I ended up in the land of the Melty Face People, a navigational error that measures on the Columbus scale. Perhaps once my plastic surgeon has finished gluing my face back on, I'll try once again to find the land of the Blurries.