There's some Jennifer Lopez movie or maybe more than one where she puts her foot down on some shit that's going down and gets all badass. I'm all over that. The idea, not Jennifer Lopez. (I *wish*.) Holy krap, I can't believe I thought that out loud. My wife is gonna read this and I am gonna be so totally toast.
Ummm, . . honey, . .if you are reading this, . . uhhh, it's not how it sounds. This is about bikes. Trust me. PLEASE.
I'm desperately trying to get this derailed train back on the tracks and here goes:
I can't haul a decent load. I know it and you know it. Hauling this half-rack a mile to my house made me Jennifer-Lopez-top-heavy-crazy tonight. (Holy shit, I stuck my foot in my mouth again!!)
Honey I don't mean *that* kind of top heavy. Just look at the picture. PLEASE. All I meant to say is that I've had enough of this lameness:
Anyway, things are about to change, thanks to Jerry in Illinois, who you will meet.
And that's all I can say, because you know how superstitious I am about spilling my bike-build beans.