My bike is giving me the double-digits again. I've gone less than 25 miles and both my plugs are blacker than the inside of the pope's asshole. I'm going to lead an exorcism of this bike this weekend, everybody's invited. I think it'll involve all the whiskey left in my liquor boxes (I've got at least 3), and a pack of smokes, and some grilled turkey legs I bought today at Kroger. I'm optimistic for a speedy recovery, but if that doesn't work I'll stand in a puddle of urine and spit at the sun, and maybe cook some pork ribs and beat the bike with an old porno rag.
I submitted the latest paper to a different journal today (FRBM), so I guess I need to go rub my juju root for good luck.