Up in the spot Home All that tasty old shit Archives Forum Forum Contact Contact DC Gear DC Store

DC Features
about
accident
adult section
andrej on tour
archives
dc gear
dc video store
fan pics
forum
gallery
gallery (old)
interviews
jokes & more jokes
link buttons
myspace page
obscure sexual terms directory
old flash intro
paddy white's not dead yet
prison name generator
product reviews
rants & writings
wallpaper images

AZ Weather
flagstaff
phoenix
tucson

AZ Sites
arizona single speeds (ass)
az cycling
az cyclocross
az trail-build
bicycle inter-community action & salvage
coalition of arizona bicyclists
coconino national forest
dc/voodoo cross team
dcb adventures
dust devil series
epic rides
fair wheel bikes
fetish racing
flagstaff biking organization
flight of the pigs
grand canyon racing
mountain bike association of arizona
missing link
northern arizona trail runners
perimeter bicycling association of america
pyramid coaching
ride clean
summit velo
tempe bicycle action group

Bike News
bicycle retailer
cyclingnews
cycling.tv
dirt rag
eurosport
just riding along
missing saddle
pez cycling
procycling
pro cycling tour
singletrack world
spoke post
topix.net/cycling
velonews

In The Trenches
a.n.t.
anvil bikeworks
bilenky
blue collar
breezer
circle a
clemente
coconino
cove
don walker
eisentraut
endless
fireman
hampsten
high ti
hunter
independent fabrication
jones
jonny cycles
kirk frame works
kish
mint
on-one
paragon machine works
patrick cycles
paul component engineering
rich adams
richard sachs
rivendell
salsa
soulcraft
southwest frameworks
spot
sycip
surly
thursday
urie dog
vanilla
vicious
voodoo
vulture
wolfhound
woody's fenders

Bike Sites
alt bike
cars-r-coffins
cello
church of bike
dopers suck
down the road
evil cycling
fearless gearless
fix me up
fixed gear gallery
free riders
frame forum
gemini training systems
granny gear
hcor
how to avoid the bummer life
hubbard bicycle club
imba
just riding along
league of american bicyclists
mad dog media
mavic
mountain bike rides
mtbr
old skool track
onegear
one on one
pete fagerlin
pink bike
procycling tour
pro mechanics
ride times
r.e.load bags
sheldon brown
sibex sports
singlephile
singlespeed outlaw
sockguy
stolen bicycle registry
sun-ringle
timbuk2
velobella
vorb
verge sport
voler
yes we are on the web

Not Bike Sites
adventure sports radio
atlas
attytood
birthday challenge
boing boing
boobie battle
career cap
drinking liberally
drunkingham
eros zine
fark
fitness lynn
freeway blogger
hoss rogers
kunstler
lonestar boxer rescue
mithras
modern drunkard
onion
paul katcher
peter gorman
pinup toons
slowly downward
the smoking gun
snopes
sticker nation
truth or fiction
unamerican
weebl and bob
wm3

 

doreo hosting

 
Cyclingnews.com, simply the best.
Cyclingnews.com coverage of the Vuelta Espana


  Tuesday, August 21, 2001
I think that I miss my friends more when I'm riding than at any other time. The fact that I've been riding alone on the roads around Moscow isn't helping. A few hours into the wind by yourself makes you wish for even the miserable little draft the Garden Nome offers up. That bastard.

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.


  Monday, August 20, 2001
Sitting around in rural Idaho. Yee Haa. All I've been doing is drinking, riding and fucking. And in just about that order.

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.


  Friday, August 17, 2001
Waiting for your internet service to hook up may be he most maddeningly slow process imaginable. You come up with the money, contact the providers, buy yourself a new modem, and wait. Just sit around and wait. Stare at a screen not connected to anything. Write updates only you, yourself can see. Look at the same old porn over and over again.

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.


  Thursday, August 16, 2001
Well shit. I'm here. Idaho. Not bad really. Not bad at all. The drive here was a fucking nightmare lesson in road side truck repair. But that, as they say, is another story.

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.


  Wednesday, August 8, 2001
Still with the packing and the stuffing. Jesus Christ, where did all this shit come from. Maybe my wife was on to something when she said I had way too many bicycles. And tires, and tubes, and tools, and helmets, and gloves.

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.


  Tuesday, August 7, 2001
I might as well tell you that I'm moving this week. Tomorrow actually. So, I've been packing my life into a great big mother fucking rental truck. Good times.

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.


  Thursday, August 2, 2001
Here are today's fine porn links. This one goes out to Pennsylvania, mother fucker.

Porn   Porn   Porn   Porn   Porn
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.


  Wednesday, August 1, 2001
There is a friend of mine that I haven't talked to in a while. He called, or what's left of him called me today. I missed the call, but his message was, well… I listened to it four times.

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.


  Wednesday, August 1, 2001
I just took the type of shit that forces a man straight from the toilet seat to the shower. After thoroughly scrubbing my backside with a brillo pad, I feel cleaned and refreshed. Yeah right, I just got assbanged, and hard. Ouch. What I need is this, and soon.

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.

From: Paul Nugget
Subject: Tahoe Drunks
hey there jonny its paul here in tahoe. oh man i think i had one to many pain killers last night. i just wanted to send you a picture of some of our prototype choppers it has begun chopification is here. drink beer and beet on yuppies

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.


 
Paying the Bills

Kona Bikes

Coconino Bikes

Showers Pass Saved My Ass

drunkcyclist video store

Adult Friend Finder

Pay-n Take


Heavies
aclu
air america radio
american prospect
andrew sullivan
antiwar
bbc
beast
becker-
posner-blog

blows against the empire
bull moose
chomsky.info
cnn
crooks and liars
daily kos
democracy now
democratic underground
economist
eye of the storm
fairness and accuracy in reporting
fighting bob
get your war on
green party
guerrillanews
huffington post
ilana mercer
jim hightower
juan cole
life after the oil crash
matthew yglesias
maureen dowd
media matters
michael moore
move on
news vine
new york times
national public radio
old american century
paul krugman
rude pundit
slate
smirking chimp
talking points memo
think progress
tpm muckraker
truth dig
truth out
whiskey bar
whitehouse
wolfblog
wonkette

Blog Roll
alaska bike blog
antibike
arctic glass
attytood
austin king
bacon strip
barb haley
becky broeder
bikeblog
bikescag
biken breakfast
blasphemous bicycler
broken spoke
cola bike
cows-suck
dara marks-marino
defeatists
douche blog cycling
epic rider
escortblogs
fables of the reconstruction
fat marc
flick lives
gewilli
handlebar sandwich
jethro bodine
joel yates
kerry litka
mooseknuckler alliance
le societe des demoncats
lorelei lee
old and slow
one speeder
paul katcher
phil zajicek
pro bike support
racer jared
ride trash
tree farm
richard sachs cross reference
river rant
rottenmac
soggy frog
steevo
steve garro
stolen underground
the doof sucks
todd wells
two wheeled locust
upside out
voodoo blog
wolfblog

Coffee Achievers
caffeinated cyclists
53 x 11 coffee
doma coffee
veloce coffee

Games
boob puzzle
bush shoot out
chuck norris
clay kitten shooting
copter
cub shoot
line rider
line rider official
neverland
old school
paper toss
penguin game
scooter death
shooter II
star poker
watch out behind you hunter
wagenschenke

Heroes
us military casualties

Philly Phorever
ashburn alley
billy penn project
desert eagles nest
eagles. aolsportsblog
philadelphia eagles
philly.com

The Sixers.
The Flyers.
The Eagles.
The Phillies.

Last 20 Visitors










Doreo Hosting :: Affordable Reliable Solutions

  DrunkCyclist.Com 2007