Mrs. Doctor has healed nicely from her encounter with the pavement and has been doing some running in preparation for a 10k trail run. That run happened yesterday, way too early in the morning (it started @ 6:30) and Mrs. Doctor crushed it, she even got 6th in her age group. Pretty good for her first race.
Here's some pics of the last climb:
And shortly later crushing the finish:
Nice work Mrs. Doctor!!
As for me, I have been officially released to full activity by my Doctor (sometimes doctors have doctors too) I had already been on the road bike for a few weeks before he cleared me, in fact my first couple rides back were with the amazing Lt Colonel Austin Travis, in with Mrs. Lt Colonel to see the Grand Canyon. They popped in for a few days and took in the sights, sounds, and smells of Prescott on their way through to the Canyon. Unfortunately we had to work and couldn't go with them, but it was good to see them and good to ride with a fellow Seagal, who by the way is still incredibly fast, in spite of not having ridden all winter. I think he might be a machine, like a T-2000 or something. I have been riding a lot ever since, going for a couple 3 to 4 hour mtb rides a week and then this is what I do:
That's right.
you know it to be true
ReplyDeleteMs. Doctor is truly an inspiration.
ReplyDeleteI am actually a little upset with our good Doctor, now that he's apparently taken up triathlon training. Dork. Hope the swimming leg goes well, in the meantime try not to urinate on your bike too much.
Way to go Ms. Doctor. Coming back from an injury is never easy, but easily makes you a super badass.. Miss you both
ReplyDeleteHey Yo!!! How's Taco? Haven't heard lately...
ReplyDeleteIt has been snowing way to much here on the East Coast so there is a lot of roller riding going on. You combine a couple of hours on the rollers with a pot of good Costa Rican coffee before heading down and the end result is an amazing release of some rain forest influenced jenkem.
ReplyDeleteTo pay homage to your blog post title, I am reminded by a turd from last Christmas season. After a night of gorging tons of food into my throat hole mixed together with a trip to the beer cooler every 5 minutes, i ravaged the porcelain throne with a Fuji of TC Warehouse proportions. That toilet was ready to receive my shit, make no mistake. It was a turf that was so memorable that it essentially had a personality that spoke to me.
ReplyDeleteThus, I was elated when, after a night of bingeing and a morning off organic coffee, I heard a voice deep from within my bowels which said to me, "We're back." As it turns out, it WAS back, and it brought friends. After a long log that was soft-served into the bowl, I was treated with a rapid-fire succession of shorter, matzoh-ball sized turdlets that each plunked into the bowl with their own little splash. I felt alot better after that.
CFR
Well my good friends it is MLK day and to celebrate I started the morning by spilling a bottle of olive oil on the floor and tracking it all over the kitchen. Then I proceeded to make the most potent pot of coffee and poured three cups down my throat (of course spiked with Kahlua to take the edge off of last night). Not halfway through the third cup and there was a rumble that rival the tremors felt in Haiti last year. Waddling like an emperor penguin toward the sea I made my way down the hall to Mt. Kohler. It was there that I dropped the Cosby kids off at the pool and the jenkem was soooo bad it singed the hairs in my nose and did permanent damage to my sense of smell. Also the mice in the walls let out a collective scream and forever abandoned my house. God did it feel good, and the second round that is brewing deep in my colon will hopefully be right up there in terms of quality and quantity - potential tubing for a new Jenkem Cycle.
ReplyDeleteI am back to report that round two was equally as devastating as round one. It was one of those all time great ones that causes the cheeks of your ass to flap like a pair of lips and came rushing out like the waters that have split a levy in New Orleans. Ahhh, now I am truly a regular guy.
ReplyDeleteCdubs, I am filled with relief at the thought of your bowels being regularly emptied. Of course, not nearly as much relief as i hope to feel from the domination of Mt. Shitter. I have yet to "take the throne" so to speak, but with all the coffee that is in me right now, I am expecting a tidal wave of turds taking my tailpipe to town.
ReplyDeleteHowever, yesterday was another story. I was actually in the car with the lovely Ms. Ryback going from Lowes to Target, when I had to up the threat level to "Code Brown." I hit the gas, and qs we approached the parking lot, i formulator a game plan with Ms. Ryback - she would get to the pharmacy while i would spend that time launching a rear-ward assault on their handicap stall. No effort was needed to expel the detritus as I sat down on the poop-receiver, and I was then pleased to find out that their toilet paper was a quilted 2-ply which caressed my turd-cutter most lovingly. I had expected the worthless 1-ply, non-perforated mega-roll which is like wiping one's ass with a phone book page. That was one of my more enjoyable public poops.
Ah Mr. Ryback you have learned, or should I say your taint has learned, the benefits of shopping at the finer instituitons in our great nation. Had the code brown gone out a Lowes I am afraid the old dark star might have faced up to not a roll but several sheets of some 3M sandpaper and depending on the last janitor to mop up it could have ranged from a fine 600 grit wet sandpaper (particuarly good on those green apple splatter days) to the more viscious 20 grit that one uses to sand down the deck before refinishing. Had that happened the Mrs. would have been off to the pharmacy for a few extra kotex pads to help stem the flow and a bottle of extra strength excedrin to help with the pain.
ReplyDeleteAs it is you chose the high end of our nations department store chains. I was watching a specila on CNBC last night and lucky for you Target likes to aim for a higher end clientle. Had you been in Walmart most likely it would have been the cheap singleply that tends to leave one with a "fire down below".
Remember when they stick you with the cheap paper there is no need to lift the toilet seat, just drop trow, hang onto the railing, take aim and see how good of a shot you really are. Hell who cares if you miss, it ain't your house!
Oh Crinkle Star oh Crinkle star. Tears of Joy stream down my face when the muddy chunder is birthed southward from thee; gravity guides you towards the watery grave. The snow-white oval, towering over my boxer shorts, contains the stainless lever that disposes of my deposit in a flick. Shredded, brown-wilt lettuce, evidence of a $5 footlong has clung stubbornly to the rim...maybe next time I wont push so hard.
ReplyDeleteI am writing pre-deuce. More specifically, i am heading to bed with the knowledge that there is a brown-colored Fuji resting in my bowels, waiting to be birthed. i hope that it doesn't come unexpectedly in the middle of the night, otherwise known as a "brown dream." Talk about embarrassing.
ReplyDeleteNorcorn Torscornor, that was a beautiful passage. Worthy of Robort's comment section.
Nico, the true romantic has come out at long last. I was so touched by your prose that last night after savagely working my bowels and producing only a headtube suddenly there was a rumbling from deep within and to my joy (but not to my surprise) I gave birth to an entire tube set. Now I can head to the office confident that I will not sit at my desk 1) releasing copious amounts of jenkem and 2) will not shit myself should I suddenly laugh. I thank you, my coworkers would thank you and mostly my boxers thank you.
ReplyDeleteCdubs, i think you should try and shit yourself, regardless what the coworkers think.
ReplyDeleteI have a correction, my last duty report had me reporting that i was going to try and hold it until morning before releasing my gift to Energor. Not 2 more minutes after writing that, I realized that it wasn't going to happen, and i headed to Mt. Kohler. however, i used the new scale that Ms. Ryback had purchased and weighed myself before taking the throne. 214.4 lbs. My weight AFTER removing myself from the throne? 213.4. - exactly one pound. i think I can do better, and you can rest assured that i will be trying. I know that I have a turd in me that is more than a pound.
I am sure the Mrs. was very happy that you a) didn't have a brown dream and b) didn't release copious amounts of jenkem throughout the night and give her the classic dutch oven. Just goes to show that all of those weight weenies counting grams should go to the Ryback school of weight loss and just drop a deuce right before the race to shed at least (in your case) 452.8 grams and at absolutely no cost.
ReplyDeleteBy the way I did a couple of crop dustings in the office and then on the subway ride home before mounting the throne and dropping a major pile of destruction.
I like to think of taking a large deuce as getting something for nothing. that is, if i wanted to drop a pound of weight from my bike via purchasing lighter parts, it would cost a fortune. Hundreds, if not thousands of dollars. instead of spending all that money, i can just engage in a favorite past time of mine and produce a gift to Energor. He would be most pleased.
ReplyDeleteBtw, is it really considered to be crop dusting if you are on the subway, and the regular smell of the subway drowns out your fresh jenkem gas?
Senor Ryback you have a very good point about the subways. Of course it is easy to let the lovely bouquet of jenkem into the enclosed confines of the metal casket when there is a bum wearing the latest eau d' urine cologne.
ReplyDeleteNow I must admit the comments section, coupled with that fine ditty by Mr. Toscani inspired me in my sleep and I crafted this little number sung to the tune of On Top of Old Smokey (you can guess where this is going!)
On top of Mt Kohler,
My colon ready to blow,
I lost my last steamer,
In the bottom of the bowl.
Intestinal cramping’s a pleasure,
But parting of my cheeks is relief,
And a false-started dumper,
Is worse than dirty briefs.
A turd burglar will rob you,
Making your taint howl.
But a false-started dump,
Will lead you bowels to growl.
Mt Kohler will control you,
Until your colon is ready to bust,
Not one fart in a hundred
A poor girl can trust.
It’ll hug you cheeks to the rim,
And know when your ass is telling lies,
When the roll on the wall is empty,
You’ll use a 5’er to be by.
So come ye young maidens,
And clean up the stains,
Never place your affection
Near my ass when it rains.
For the leaves they will wither,
The roots they will die,
Because of your powerful Jenkem,
And you know just why.
Truly, Mr. Dubs, you are a wordsmith of Energor-like proportions. Enough to make even Dr. Dre jealous, I'm sure. Speaking of Doctor, I wonder just how long he'll go without realizing that he's missing out greatly here. One thing he isn't missing is the horrendous butt-stink that, earlier today, alerted me to a beautiful brown baby boy that I would soon birth from my brown star. Much in the same way that pregneant women develop contractions leading up to the birthb of their child, we dudes will get alerted to the coming "bundle" of joy through noxious gases squeezing past clenched sphincters. An today was no different. Based on the subtleties I detected in my own stink, I was able to recall the egg and ham sandwich that I had made for breakfast, and it brought me joy. 'twas a happy moment in an otherwise unhappy expedition to the top of mt. Kohler.
ReplyDeleteWhy thank you Dr. Ryback but I must admit that my inspiration is driven by the very words that Nico and you have penned to this fine blog of the Doctor. In fact my entire intestinal tract gains massive inspiration from these words (and a couple cups of that fine Costa Rican java). At this very moment I am howling at the full moon over the river, gulping cups of that fine joe and coaxing the contents of my colon to work it's way toward that little old dark star at the back of the bus.
ReplyDeleteOh yes the good Doctor is in for a bit of a surprise when he finally thinks about writing another story, at the recent pace of prolific writing is fast propelling this blog toward that great milestone only achieved on Robot's blog, the "dirty" century. The very moment that is achieved we will all have to drop trow and torture the scared alter with a delivery of some well inspired tubing.
Like the Mormons going door to door to spread the word we need to spread the word and have our fellow worshipers of the great Enegor help propel this site to the fame and glory it deserves.
I, the great Energor will reward all those that contribute with the most satisfying of bowel releases in the coming days. All hail my ability to stain boxers and peel paint off the walls. I am the destroyer of Mt. Kohler.
ReplyDeleteOh Great Energor, I do beseech thee. Please see fit to granting me safe passage in my journey atop Mt. Kohler, where I do hope to plant my brown flag. You are wise and all-knowing, and I know that all brown things come from you.
ReplyDeleteamen.
Praise Energor, I have been rewarded for my efforts with not one, not two, not even three but four rounds on the throne this morning. It was a day not be missed. Starting with some of the finest tubes Jenkem Cycles has ever seen and finishing off with the latest offering of chain lube. After such an effort I feel the need to go and rest.
ReplyDeleteMy word, 4 expeditions atop Mt. Kohler is amazing. Your disgusting butt hole must have been as dry, cracked and chapped as a Somali's face whilst hobbling across the sahara. I have yet officially hit the 4-a-day mark.
ReplyDeleteI am looking forward to the day in which my new jenkem stash reahes full fermentation, and i am once again able to glide along the euphoric plains of times past, flying over the vast poo mountain ranges, the Jenkem Cycles Factory Complex, and Shit Sea.
I knew it was only a matter of time, and I've already set a new personal best at the shitter. I weighed in before and after my brown baby boy was birthed, and i discovered that I weighed 2.2 pounds less afterwards. Praise Energor.
ReplyDeleteYes Mr. Ryback, the quadruple deuce is a move that even Greg Looseanus was unable to pull in his gold medal performances from the high dive, so this must be a gold medal performance from the porcelain altar. In fact I am contemplating calling in the Guiness Book of World Records and perhaps making the never before imagined quintuple deuce attempt. My only fear is that the degree of difficulty could lead to me crapping my colon right out of my ass.
ReplyDeleteBut back to that phenomenal quadruple lindy, it carried a degree of difficulty of 9.3 and when you consider I punched all four out within a span of 3 hours it makes you realize just how empty my bowels were. To prevent the dreaded Somali ass syndrome a dab of bag balm here and there between attempts cured any problems, but it made it all possible. Just think of it as the equivalent of Clenbuterol for the dark star.
The first lesson it attaining the mystical quadruple deuce - Tarrazu coffee from the slopes of Costa Rica. You have read of it magical powers in my blog and now I am revealing it's true powers on the pages of Team Seagal AZ. Perhaps I will have to bring it to Middle Fork and we can brew the entire bag and deploy maximum carnage to the toilets of Middle Fork.
Oh and by the way you amazing birth of the brown baby boy weighing in at 2.2 lbs is equally amazing. The volume of the pile must have been enough to push the water of Mt Kohler to the brink and raise the concerns of a Jamestown type flood in the halls of Casa de Ryback. You should pat yourself on the back or perhaps backside for such a stellar performance.
ReplyDeleteAhh children of the crapper you have performed well this past week and for that I will reward you with some of the finest jenkem this side of the St. Louis arch. Fear not it will come, most likely at the worst of times but it will make you smile at your ability to clear a room in seconds. Crap on with gusto.
ReplyDeletethank you, oh great Energor. i have taken your blessing, and upped the score with what i believe to be a game changer. I approached slopes of Mt. kohler, and stepped onto the scale, or rather, what I refer to as "base camp". I was pressed for time, as this fuji was knocking at the castle gates trying to get out. I had a 216.4 lbs reading beforehand. Upon unleashing the fuji fury, I was immensely relieved, and not facing the dreaded Somali Ass Syndrome. Cleaning procedures went as expected, and upon descending back down to "base camp" I weighed in twice, because i couldn't believe my eyes the first time. 213.6 lbs for a total of 2.8 pounds of fuji having just passed through my butt hole. Imagine if I had tried to make my bicycle 2.8 lbs lighter - that would have cost a fortune! If only you had been there along with Greg Looseanus and we could have mocked him tirelessly. Godspeed in today's poo-related endeavors.
ReplyDeleteRyback you are truly amazing, a 2.2 followed up by a 2.8! At first I wasn't sure if you were talking tire size or tremendous pile of poo size. How does the imperial throne handle that capacity? Do you use the infamous double flush (which if you are dropping a down tube length it can assist with a "pull" right out of the dark region)?.
ReplyDeleteBetween the two of us we are pushing the bounds in taking a dump infamy. And speaking of endeavors, once again I am experiencing a wonderful phenomena know as Friday Full. This is when I bowels, sensing the coming weekend somehow generate volumous amounts of dark sausage which results in many laps around the trading floor crop dusting any and all that get in my way. Also experienced is "trouser tension" when the lower colon gets so full the pants tighten up. With less than an hour to go I am truly excited to step up to the crapper, drop trow, drop a load and see just how much weight I have shed. FYI I have yet to break into the Ryback zone (+2 lbs.)
Well you connoisseurs of crap, and you know you are because you are here reading every comment with glee, I think it is time to put the accomplishments of one Mr. Ryback into perspective. Yes I might have been able to pull off the never before done quadruple lindy but this pales in comparison to the feats of one Ryback colon.
ReplyDeleteAs you know from the earlier post I was experiencing the Friday Full and Trouser Tension so when the key went into the front door my bowels rumbled at the prospect of what was to be deposited in Mt Kohler. Feeling this had the potential to be a top 10 I headed to base camp and weighed in at 177.0. After an explosive release and a lot of jaw clenching and sphincter clenching I deposited all I had, flushed, inhaled a lovely bouquet of jenkem and boldly stepped up to base camp. Well I nearly had a coronary when the numbers final showed.....176.0, a mere 1 pounder! I can only imagine what a feat it was to punch out a 2.8 pounder, it must right up there with Bob Beamon's world record 29'+ long jump that stood for more then 25 years. This one may never be broken, all bow and pay homage to Sir Ryback, Lord of the Log.
Horror of horrors! After the quadruple lindy last weekend it was back to the single shot and not much better then a low caliber one at that. Oh Enegor, please bless my twinkling little dark star with a perfect tube set.
ReplyDeleteWell the drought, she has endeth. With TSM's announcement of the MFXC race I almost shit myself due to the excitement. I was able to contain it long enough to get the entry in the mail and then good ole Energor came a knockin' at the backdoor. Good old Mt Kohler took a bit of a beating - I will leave it at that.
ReplyDeleteStraight off of the BBC News sight - this is unbelivable but true.
ReplyDeleteMalawi row over whether new law bans farting The justice minister said local chiefs would deal with those caught breaking wind in public Continue reading the main story
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Malawi old flags arrest warning Country profile: Malawi Two of Malawi's most senior judicial officials are arguing over whether a new bill includes a provision that outlaws breaking wind in public.
Justice Minister George Chaponda says the new bill would criminalise flatulence to promote "public decency".
"Just go to the toilet when you feel like farting," he told local radio.
However, he was directly contradicted by Solicitor General Anthony Kamanga, who says the reference to "fouling the air" means pollution.
"How any reasonable or sensible person can construe the provision to criminalising farting in public is beyond me," he said, adding that the prohibition contained in the new law has been in place since 1929.
The Local Courts Bill, to be introduced next week reads: "Any person who vitiates the atmosphere in any place so as to make it noxious to the public to the health of persons in general dwelling or carrying on business in the neighbourhood or passing along a public way shall be guilty of a misdemeanour."
Mr Chaponda, a trained lawyer, insists that this includes farting.
"Would you be happy to see people farting anyhow?" he asked on the popular "Straight Talk" programme on Malawi's Capital Radio.
He said that local chiefs would deal with any offenders.
When asked whether it could be enforced, he said it would be similar to laws banning urinating in public.
Yes C-Dubs, I have also read that Malawi is. Going to outlaw breaking wind, which means i won't be relocating to Malawi at any point. I wonder if that also covers the terrible shit stink that squeaks out alongside a chocolate butt-snake. I cant imagine that it would, because the whole country would be in "arrears." I just wanted to use that word.
ReplyDeleteIn other news, I am about to leave base camp and make my way up the slopes of mount kohler, with hopes of sending down a brown snowball. Wish me luck, as i didn't leave base camp yesterday.
So I just returned to base camp after sitting atop the throne which is perched upon Mt. kohler's peak. I did send down an avalanche of shit, but took extra notice of a phenomena that has yet to be covered in our daily duty reports. and that is, the mystical poo-paintings that are smeared upon the bottom the bowl after my fuji is swirled into the abyss. it reminded me of the ancient Anasazi Wall Paintings found out west. I attempted to interpret the meaning of it, hoping to perhaps find a message from Energor himself. I was not able to decrypt anything, since i am fairly new at this. Perhaps a couple of pulls off of my new jenkem batch before attempting to see Energors message. Till next time. Please tell me, Cdubs, what you find scrawled along the inside of your bowl, post-poop.
ReplyDeleteI too have been trying to interpert the meanings of the fine poo-roglypics that always appear in my bowel after the most poweful of dumps. Perhaps we need to turn to science and see if these mirror the glacial striations seen in the rocks of the great canyons. Perhaps Energor's power has some how eminated from past geological events.
ReplyDeleteI will continue to do research on a daily basis. Also praise Energor, I have been producing some of the straightest black anodized tube sets this side of the Mississippi.
Oh my Energor. My blorg has been victimized. I have fallen into the blorging habits of the great Robortion and the Jenkem master has punished me accordingly. I will repent of my ways as soon as I can do the following two things:
ReplyDelete1. Catch up on the massive amount of text presently in my comments section
2. Write an amazors race report of this weekends 24 hours in Old Pueblo, during which I will share the suffering with one teammate in the illustrious duo category.
Until then, you guys are jerks. Poetic jerks.
Praise Energor
PS. Crotch, got your message. I was on a ride and my phone has been in my camelbak evar since. we will conference call very soon.
Praise Energor, The Doctor has entered back into the fold. Glad to see you back you fucking jerk. My turd this morning weighed in at about 1.5 lbs, and i believe the bowl swirls said something to the effect of how that turd was one in a long line of sturdy turds. it definitely put the turd in sturdy.
ReplyDeleteGood luck at Old Poo-eblo, Doctor.
NECS reporting from my super secret training camp south of the equator. Not much riding but lots of drinking and women with awesome implants. Through numerous and massive attacks on Mt Kohler I can confirm that the tube sets I am producing do intact circulate the bowel in the opposite direction resulting in dyslexic bowel art. And yes the Mount Gay and spicy island cooking result in a fine jenkem bouquet that rivals the fine wines of France.
ReplyDelete