Hey Team,

I rode the motorcycle up to Northern California yesterday to meet with a couple of friends I haven’t seen in a very long time. It seemed like a simple enough procedure and in many ways it was…it just wasn’t a very comfortable ride.

Butterfly swarm

Turns out this is also butterfly mating season here in California and along the scenic (and not so scenic) highways butterflies are chasing each other around at high speeds and following unpredictable paths like a bunch of drunken, horny high school seniors after prom night. Except now picture thousands upon thousands of prom nighters all bouncing off my windshield and helmet. (Wait…that analogy broke down somewhere.)

SPLAT!

The point is: I was LITERALLY dodging butterflies as I was riding the bike. Bobbing and weaving my head trying not to catch a bug to the face mask that would obstruct my vision and the whole time thinking about that board game “SPLAT!” (I know you know what I’m talking about. It’s like Sorry! but with the added fun of crushing each other’s bug shaped play-dough playing pieces.)

The worst part is that the windshields on motorcycles are only so big. As a result every cute little butterfly that bounces off is like a water balloon bursting on contact and showering the poor rider (me) with a thin film of…whatever that butterfly had for lunch.

Butterfly Roadkill

I stepped off the bike in Modesto feeling like a jerk for the wholesale slaughter I enacted on the butterfly community but simultaneously kind of irritated by the gut bath I was forced to endure. Of course, once I realized how irritated I was by the inconvenience the deaths of thousands caused me I felt even worse. Sometimes I think life would be much easier if I weren’t such a sissy.






I’m done.

Brett.





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