
So today I went up the incline in quasi-ironic style. While I left the suit/tux at home, I threw together some relatively incongruous clothing. Singlet from running (revealing my “Incline Culture Not 4 Sale” tattoo), cycling arm warmers, khaki shorts, five-fingers from nerds, as well a sweat band representing b-ball, and both boxers and briefs (briefs outside of course). I managed to do it a time and a half whilst listening to Kenny Burrell and John Coltrane, and Bobby "Scoot" Schumann. While I was feeling pretty smug about my ironi-cent and a half (also the term used to denote a wheat penny and a half cent for modern day transactions). However, to my dismay, when I got to the top the first time. There was a guy sitting on the top step with two parrots!
Unfair. There is no way that I can compete with ironic wildlife.
You may be wondering why my tattoo underlines "incline." Well, really, my tattoo actually says "_____ Culture Not 4 Sale" that way I can carry a magic marker with me wherever I go, and I can always be legit. Just rub of "Incline" and replace it with "Jazz" (but also add a foot note so people realize they are actually quite welcome to buy it, it more of a sentiment). "Spaghetti-O's," "Puppy-cam" and "Cheese" usually find there place on my chest in a given day.
I've also discovered a shocking new trend in Liberal Arts Bike Culture. I don't put that on my chest because if someone wanted to buy any of my bikes or bike paraphernalia at vastly inflated price I'd be glad. Apparently, a frame set my now include the saddle. On a nearby bicycle race I found this


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