She Scoots, Therefore She Is

When I fix my bicycle,
Skies will turn to blue,
Riding down your street again,
I will visit you!
Bedridden, 'Bicycle'

In other news, Max won a scooter at the Left Bank last night. This is the most conclusive proof I have ever had that (a) there is a God and (b) he knows how to pick the talent. I only hope she doesn't leave me for it: after all, it will be cooler, shinier, and more reliable than me, and probably won't keep a web-log in which it says stupid things all the time.