The Worm is fighting off the plague, I hope he makes it. His denial may be stronger than mine. He's hitting the Zicam, like a bong before a Phish concert. The curse has swept through our ranks like, well... a plague. It started with M-dub, then B.D.S., and Ice Berg always has a cold. All I know is, our lines have been broken and our flag is danger of falling to the enemy. Moral is at an all time low. Our days, once filled with battle plans, lights on chargers, and heated debates about where and when we would ride.....distant memories all. When the Worm is out of commission, the troops lay down their arms and scatter to the winds.
I suppose if a virus can end WWI, it can open a can of whoop ass on a cycling crew and still get home in time for dinner.
I haven't been on a bike in five days.
He that hath no stomach for this fight , let him depart!
I will never forget you, my brothers in arms.
W.B.Z.N.