(C.M)from 2004, a fun adventure, the photo is from last year

It started out a pleasent day on Alberta street, lots of barking dogs and catterwalling kids. After all our day's shinnannigins were done, the idea came up of riding tall bikes downtown and visiting Critical Mass.
"Mayday" the clown said he was into it and picked a bike out, so did I.
So I ran into the clown house, stabbed my finger in the peanut butter jar for my dinner, kissed my dog and scratched my wife, pulled my finger from my mouth and whala'Two big ass clowns are squeeking downtown on teetering tall bikes.
We rode down to the Max station and had to enter {the train} from opposite ends because of the size of our bikes.
I got to ride on the end with the suburb kids who were on lots of what I expect were powder drugs, they were hooting and acting like tweaking chimps.
Mayday got the end with the guy who suggested that tall bikes be used at his mental hospital. He never said exactly what role he played there or what the bikes should be used for.
We roll up to the park. Twelve people scattered about with bikes looking uncomfortable. I didnt see many cops or anyone at all, hahaha with our numbers we could do the critical mass ride on the bus and make a party of it.
We swooped up to the first set of friendly faces and started gassing with the kids.(YO)

Suddenly like a roaring group of motorcycle police riding in formation down the street, a large group of motorcycle police came roaring down the street in formation (Mercy sakes alive!)
I wondered "Is all that for us? For Bikes? wow".
With the large number of Constables On Patrol I decided that maybe I should have a light on my bike (it was a better idea than asking the cops for one) so I bopped on down the street to a bike shop and Molly hooked me up with illumination. I layed down over a thousand cents for a light but gave it to them in bill form.
When I got back to the park a lot more folks had shown up. I saw some christians that may or may not have had bikes, lots of friendly faces contrasting with the "all buissness" attitude of the traffic police. It was like the people that first arrived had changed into brighter more colorful clothing as reflected by there smiles.
The bells started ringing and the horns honking! I have a button and speaker that says "Mota-cykes" and revs like an engine for 8 second blasts. we all gracefully moved to the street as bike riders do using our skill and experience to effortlessly glide into the road in a tight pack...exept for Mayday, that boy is almost 300 pounds he hasnt been tall biking very long and looked like a bear on a trike wobbling into stuff, I hoped he would stay as out of sight as a bear on a tricycle possibly could. That didnt happen,in the first block of the ride he got pulled over.
I turned around and stopped as a witness like the paper thay gave me said to do. A cop looked at me and asked his partner, "Should we get him too?"
"Yeah"
then he came up and looked for a problem, I was lucky my two brain cells were home when I put a red light on my tail (The bikes tail not my butt)because thats what Mayday got a ticket for HUNDID DOLLAS!BAM!
They cut me a break and we played a little good cop, bad cop, good clown, concerned clown, and walked bikes back to the bike shop. As a squad car rolled by I could hear the radio,
"blib.blib Did anyone get those weird bikes yet blib,blib"
Molly was closing the store when Mayday pulled up. He pounded on the door looking like a cat stuck in the rain. "Ya Gots ta help me I just got a ticket and I need a red tail light." Mollys shoulders dropped, the key slid back out of the lock and Molly went behind the counter.
:Oh it costs money?"
Mayday thought I had more cents to throw in but I didnt, Molly heroiclly kicked the dude down a red reflector.
We lost the ride but lucky day had a map(Yippy!)
I couldnt read it so Mayday used his potty training to decipher the map that led us into a mess.
The mess was the Critical Mass ride, all divided up and kattywampus with murdercycles and squad cars darting all around.
Mayday tried so hard to obey all the rules that he took a dump off his tall bike right into the max track. he hurt his arms and legs, he was getting tired from all the starts and stops, i dont blame him.
I decided that the police made the ride a helluva lot more dangerous for bikes but luckilly no less conveniant for farty smellin automobiles.
We had a white knuckle ride until it just got stupid. We eventually broke off and made it as far as Killingsworth. thats when my experiment on Maydays bike went wrong:Coffee grounds make awful bearing grease. His cranks locked up and he walked home while I took both bikes home, ghost riding one until my arm hurt.
So I think I will be skipping Critical Mass until June when there are so many more of us to keep track of, or maybe instead of being a swarm it should be a mob of bikes flooding whole grid squares, a real Mass.
So sad that the city and it's citizens cant see eye to eye on the Critical Mass thing, it's good clean fun were havin, heck it could be a tourist attraction and they treat us like Tweekin chimps, I think suburb kids, high on powder drugs and gangster rap deserve more attention than 50 bikes full of happy people out for a bike ride.
This is Dingo Dizmal with KSUK clownarchist action news MOTA-CYKES!!!