neverbeencool

Ever since I started the whole riding-the-bike-to-work thing a couple weeks ago, Silja’s insisted (mostly playfully) that my next step will inevitably involve adding spandex to my wardrobe.

Fear not, Internet.  That WILL NOT HAPPEN.

Probably.

Normally, I’d say that spandex is the work of the Devil and, had I not spent years perfecting the art of blocking out every occasion in which I’ve seen people wearing the stuff inappropriately, probably would have remembered to throw the shit between Moulin Rouge! and Sweater Vests on my old list.

The idea of squeezing my fat ass into biking shorts sickens me.  Picture wedging this:

into these:

and you’ve got the idea.

But there’s a problem.

Seems that, while I slept last night, some critter or another decided that I was fucking delectable (can’t blame it for that…) and went to town on my leg.  I woke up with this wee little bite:

I’m assuming it was probably a spider.  Or maybe a grizzly bear.  One of the two.

Now, as a long time comic book guy, I’m completely aware of what this means:  I’m going to be a super fucking hero!

Not literally, like Orgazmo or something.

But a super hero, nonetheless!

Doubt it?  Look at the facts:

1. I’m a dork.
2. I was bitten by something.

Case fucking closed.

Only question at this point is “what will my super powers be?”  I have no idea what bit me, so your guess is as good as mine.  I mean, the effects of a dork being bitten by a radioactive spider are well-documented, but what if it was a pissed off, radioactive grizzly bear?  Can I expect to get fatter and harrier?  Will I develop super strength and the ability to snag salmon from streams and picnic baskets under the nose of park rangers?  Who knows…

Of course, until my newfound powers manifest, only one thing is certain:  I need to get used to the idea of wearing spandex.