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What I wouldn't do for a decent sized, resonably organized paceline just fucking once. For a few lousy miles. Is that too much to ask? I mean, c'mon, I'm fucking dying over here. So much in fact that I'm seriously considering showing up for the Tour de Lentil Metric Century this Saturday. Not only is it held in conjunction with the National Lentil Festival (in Pullman, Washington), it's being presented by the WSU (Washington State University) Cougar Cycling Team. But what the fuck is a Lentil? Ya got me by the balls on that one. I think it's a bean. Sorta. Maybe. Kinda. Whatever. All I know is that if I ride five miles down highway 270 from Moscow, I'll be at the Pullman City Playfields. And then I won't have to ride around the friggin farmland by myself. I can hang with the "Cougs". They're probably a bunch of sissies.
Jef "swillin" Williams knows what I'm talking about. He's the one who introduced me to the whole BMX drink, ride, fuck thing in the first place. Not that I didn't live my life like that anyway, I just didn't know that someone made t-shirts that said it. I've got some new stickers, but only in black. E-mail me if you want one. And I know you all do. The white ones are on the way, or so I'm told. If you're bike is black, you are shit outta luck as the black stickers won't show up. Shit, just carve druckcyclist in the side of your top tube and let everyone know you're down. That's what I'd do. If I wasn't a pussy. It's enough to drive you mad, I tell you. Then you try to imagine what is happening with your website, the one you've been working on all fucking year. You think about all the people who come to see it and you wonder if they're still going to come. It's not like they have anything new to look at. The same old shit, just sitting there. You think about all the people who send in email, and you wonder, fuckin' A Christ Almighty, I'm going to have to sort through a thousand e-mails, with porn pics attached, when I finally get connected. It's going to take me a year just to get through the mail. Oh God, it's going to be a shit storm of porn. I'm just the man for it. Who else can push himself this hard, this often, just to post pictures of naked girls with bicycles? So, I probably have four unique visitors this month. Maybe three. This is how I imagine it will break down: Someone logged on from Domenics because they are bored and fucking off at work. Nic and Randy checked it out, because they're at home pretending that they're Cheech and Chong and they "forgot" I haven't been uploading anything. And Jake's always good for a page view or two, because he's working ten hours a week and riding four hundred, and he's bored and his legs hurt. So, that's it. That's my audience.
Been here since Friday night. Went on a local bike shops group ride last night and the riding here is good. Bunch of fast mother fuckers around here. I couldn't even see them on the down hills. In my defense, it is really dry and dusty up here. In the bad patches, you can't see a fucking thing past your front tire. I'm not talking about the type of dust thrown up by skidding around a corner. You just look at this stuff and it explodes into an eye burning, trail obscuring cloud. It's dry like I've never seen. This whole part of the country has been upgraded to a class 5 fire danger, which is the highest, or worst, that there is. I get the distinct impression that a soggy, half light cigar thrown from a passing car could burn all of this shit to the ground in a matter of minutes. I don't have any idea how or when this will ever get posted. I have no internet service as of yet. DSL is on the way, but it'll take 3 week. Three fucking weeks! That's right. So, I'm pretty much talking to myself right now. Yee Haa.
I want to push it into one big pile with a bulldozer and light that puppy up. Cleaning, purifying fire. Just like caveman would have done. Or, maybe the Romans. Burn it all. Scorched Earth policy. Leave nothing behind but rot and ruin. Just like Vegas. Speaking of Vegas, my fat ass might make it to the bike show this year. Can you believe that shit? Can anyone guess what bike company's badge I'll be wearing? Talk to big jonny, I'll sell you anything you want at incredible prices. I'll promise you the moon, the Eiffel Tower, whatever. You wanna buy the keys to the city? How about the Brooklyn Bridge? Name your price, buddy. We can do business.
As it stands I haven't been able to do any updates here at drunkcyclist. And I don't know how long it'll be till I can. Maybe a week or so. As soon as I post this I have to pack this computer up and throw it on the truck with everything else. See ya'll in a few.
Porn Porn Porn Porn So I get this phone call today. It's all salesmen sounding, like total bullshit and I'm ready to hang up when the voice says, "We're not selling anything…" OK, I think, what the hell, it's just a few questions. Why not? The girl asks me if I listen to KUPD, the red rockin' radio, here in Phoenix. I tell her yes. She goes through a few more things and says, "Are you between the ages 19-24, or 25-30?" I say, "Neither. I'm 31." She goes, "Oh. Is there anyone else there I can talk to?" Ouch. I'll tell you this much, packing sucks dick. It's a God damn good thing that the Woodshed is on the near corner and the gas station the far, or I would've bought a gallon a gasoline and burnt this shitpile to the fucking ground today. As it stands, I had a late lunch at the Shed. A burger and two pitchers of Budweiser. Then I took a nap. More like, passed the fuck out. But, whatever. I guess the point is I didn't light anything on fire. Not yet, but I have till next Wednesday. It could be a long weekend. Flames, baby. Flames. My friend is a heroin addict. I have known him since I was 15 years old. More than half of my life has been spent with him in it. And I'm quite sure that time is coming to an end. I can't see this going on much longer. How can it? He lives in the fucking street. He steals from his own family and lies to everyone around him. His arms are covered with the self inflicted wounds that the needle leaves. He looks like death: he is death. Drug addiction isn't cool. It's fucking bullshit. I want to pound my fists into the walls until they are broken and bloody. I want to strangle the person who thought a little horse would be fun and tear them into pieces. I want smash the whole world and make it all go away. I want to take my friend and hold him. I want to cleans his body of his demons and make him what he used to be, when we were 15. Before all this bullshit. Before you had to almost fucking kill yourself to have fun in life. Fuck coke, fuck speed, fuck heroin, fuck everything. I want it all to end.
What the fuck was that last video? I can't believe it. Fucking sick, man. Jesus. It's not often in porn that all the participants sicken me. Oh well. Enjoy! The W32.Sircam.Worm@mm virus is still making it's rounds. That bastard. Unbelievable. I got it sent to me eight more times just this morning. Is creating a virus the subway graffiti of the new millenium? Is it not just enough to bomb some wall near the expressway so all those commuting to work Monday morning can see your name in four foot letters? Now we have to fucking jam up 70 thousand computers to make a name for ourselves, I guess. I think it's fucking gay. That said, I'll probably have my site hacked to fucking pieces by midnight. Whatever. I put the link to the Tahoe Drunks back up today. I pulled it a while ago because it seemed to not exist anymore. About half the time it doesn't seem to work, but fuck it, those guys rule. Well shit fire, you should see what those boys are up to now. It seems someone got their hands on an acetylene torch or some shit. Welding is fun. Now I want a chopper, I'm nothing without a chopper.
How did I not post this link earlier? It's a great game. And killing people with bricks is fun for the whole family. Try it, you might like it. I did. It always goes back to Ragbrai. At least this week it does. I'm collecting pictures and throwing together a gallery of sorts to show off what a drunken mess it really was. Oh boy. Also, some new wallpaper got posted today. Lets just get one thing straight here: I love porn. You all know what to expect outta me. As always, these are examples of the kind of smut that graces my own computer. Right now as a matter of fact. And, don't be afraid to share folks, I can never see enough naked ladies in my life time. I cannot be desensitized enough. Bring it on.
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