Inside my skin, my blood runs a golden carmel color.  Its more of a sap that moves through my veins.   It only turns red when the skin is broken and it hits the air outside of my body.    My blood, some would say is more like shellac, a bugs secretion, and I'd have to agree, proudly.
  I'm in love with the color of the coat of glue on my tires.  Despite the tedious process, and the lack of days before my first race, my freshman knowledge of the process of attaching tubular tires to wheels, and the tired, deep buzz from my beer, I've got a warm, human feeling about all of this.  

Just think, soon you'll be standing in the grid.  Somewhere in the 8 across lines.  Waiting for a random sound, to go.   Beat it. scram. d.

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