Fat Biker

Fat Biker: Passing M&M’s

I don’t want to admit how many tens-of-thousands of dollars I have spent on road bikes in the past decade.  But in this pandemic, worth every fucking penny.

When the sun is up, I can get out of the house.  I get a morning reminder…

“Are you going riding today?” the Bear asks sweetly. But you can’t hide your killin’ eyes. She means, you better get the fuck out of this house today. Her smile is a thin disguise.

It was a Tuesday evening.  Put down the computer, put my feet in the pedals. The sun was going down, the wind was picking up.

There was no rush hour.  Just 10 percent of the “normal” traffic trying to go 200 percent faster.

Jesus, assholes, everyone is stressed. You don’t have to kill me with your car.

Now is not a good time to go to the hospital.  I’ve got plenty of padding. I’ll probably survive the broken bones, but the age, weight, and asthma will make it easy for the Coronavirus.

I decided to ride the canals. No cars. Crosswalks and lights at every intersection.

But it was packed with M&M’s: Mormons and Mexicans.

Two or three adults waddling along the banks with a couple of loosely leased dogs. Herding a gaggle of confused kids from toddlers to teenagers.

I assume they keep cranking out the planet-killing humans to please the non-existent being in a bullshit book who told them heaven is waiting for those who make more “souls”.

It’s a dictate from most fundamentalists. Salvation through infrequent fucking followed by multiple births. Mormons top it off with mutilating male genitalia so all those little boys have the proper mushroom heads. Mexicans not so much — they have the lowest rates of circumcision in the US.

Most of the canals are 10-12 feet wide. Plenty of room for everyone to walk on their own side.

Besides the foreskin, the big difference between Mormon or Mexican family is location, location, location.  Central Mesa: Mexican. South of Southern Ave or north of Brown Rd: Mormon.

The irony of “Brown Road” and “Southern” being a racial divider seems lost on everyone but me.

I’m using Mormon and Mexican as the brand names.*  I’m throwing out stereotypes for the religious with large families in Mesa Az.  I could call them L&L’s —  Latinos and Latter-Day-Saints.

And yes I’m sure there’s more diversity in this group.  Latinos could have any heritage from most of this planet and the “Mormons” could be any white people.  Hell, they may not even be Christian.  There are even Mexican-Mormons — just ask Mitt Romney.


Mormon mission in Mexico.  Includes a lot of Romney’s.  Read all about it here.

So this story is largely racist bullshit in my own head.  But when I see big families in this town, odds are good they spend Sundays with the Priest or with their Ward.

I rode up behind the families, spinning my pedals backward.  It stretches the legs and makes a good noise that even the babies recognized.

Most people hear the noise and move right.  Letting me slide past in silence.

But these fucking families were a study in herd dynamics.

The dogs pushed and pulled in every direction.  The parents wandered about in random patterns.  The older kids were on their phones or yelling at someone.  The younger ones were bouncing around like pinballs.

Doesn’t matter the color (or culture) of the M&M, there’s always the one “special” kid.  Can’t listen. Doesn’t follow directions.  Moved in random patterns in the opposite direction of everyone else.

Those kids don’t exist in nature. Lions or wild dogs pick them off — day one.

But we have banned Darwinism. We killed the wolves or bears or saber-tooth tigers that used to “discipline” our kids.  Now these little shits live without fear — even of a 250-pound stranger rolling down on them like a charging hippo.

I braked and called. “On your left, on your left.” Fucking kids didn’t know left from right. I heard them fight over it. “You’re stupid,” the older one said — while stepping out to the left and blocking the path.

Sometimes a teenager, sometimes a parent, grabbed or yelled at the “special” one, but by that time I’ve come to almost a complete stop…

One difference here:

  • The Mormons just looked up and smiled at me like being “happy” and “nice” makes  it OK to be stupid.  That’s kind of their thing.
  • The Mexicans yelled at their kids (usually the wrong one) and implied some random punishment is coming. Respect.  Looked just like the Irish way to me.

I was in the wrong gear and had to stand and push and see if my knee could take the strain. Rinse and repeat every quarter mile for the next 25 miles.

M&M’s generally suck on a bike path, but it beats the shit out of trying to climb a hill against the elderly on E-bikes.

  • Stole the “brand name” line from Neal Brennan.  White people are so lazy and racist, they just use Mexican as the brand name.

4 replies »

  1. Got a lot “mexicans” here in SD. Respect. Work ethic, family. There’s a Mormon “temple” over near I-5. Looks like Lady Ga-Ga was the architect. If there is an actual “mormon” in SD I’ve yet to meet them. And finally – when are you going to stop thd “fat slinging” and admit you’re in fucking great shape? Oh, wait I know — never!


    • fat slinging… Never gonna quit telling the truth. I have seen the pictures – I have watched the little old ladies spin past me up even the smallest hill…


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