Tuesday, June 26, 2001
So, I'm on vacation in Pennslyvannia. I wasn't going to update the page for a couple of days and just hang loose out here in the fucking woods with all the rednecks.

But something needs to be said. Jake Rubelt kicks ass.

Thank you. See you in a week.

  Thursday, June 21, 2001
Here's a quick little sumpthin' sumpthin' for my horde of porn freak cyclists. I have only a few minutes before I'm expected back at the salt mine. Gotta bust rocks for Unkie Dominic.

A philosophy professor stood before his class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a large empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, rocks about 2" in diameter. He then asked the students if the jar was full? They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The students laughed. The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.

"Now," said the professor, "I want you to recognize that this is your life. The rocks are the important things - your family, your partner, your health, your children - things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else, the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first, there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal. Take care of the rocks first - the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

But then...

A student then took the jar which the other students and the professor agreed was full, and proceeded to pour in a glass of beer. Of course the beer filled the remaining spaces within the jar making the jar truly full.

The moral of this tale is...No matter how full your life is, there is always room for BEER!

Thanks to Mike for that one.

  Monday, June 18, 2001
I hate the Lakers. Enjoy some Sixers wallpaper.

Holy cow, look at this, and this. Hell, why stop now? I think this is worth a few hours of your time.

Tits and ass isn't the only thing, it's just the best thing.

I had to drag myself away from what would have probably descended into more and more rounds of Corona tonight. I think I reached my limit on cute college girls and cheap Mexican swill under the empty promise of the Dos Gringo's misting system. "Dos Gringos" means "two men", more or less. I drank a few of those cool long necks, more or less.

And so it goes.

From: Jim
We were thinking of having someone put a whole bunch of beer about 10 yards in front of the starting line just before the whistle. We would tell everyone that when the whistle blew, they run (not ride), get a beer or two, and drink it or spray it on each other or beginners or whatever. I will get the beer. If someone just blows by at the start, they will see the wrath of the rest of the drunk single speeders later. You can still bring your own beer to the start line or wear it on your back or whatever. This will work if we can let everyone know. So spread the word to any ss'ers you know.

I can't think of any better way to spread that shit around other than what I just did. Single speeders you are forewarned. This is now a dualatholon. The first leg is all about glug, glug, glug. Then we ride.

For anyone who doesn't like to slam beers at 9:00 am (???) just think of this as a neutralized start. Nothing happens until we all are ready to race. Hey, the best rider will still win. His time will just be a few minutes longer. The outcome of the race will not be altered by our drunken antics. So, drink up.

Did you know that Scwhinn and GT product is about to be dumped in Costco? Did you know Specialized has just sold out about half of itself to the Chinese? Did you know that I haven't learned my lesson yet about posting any and all rumors pertaining to the bicycle industry?

From: DH
Go to www.kcrw.com and then go to keyword Joe Frank. Some of the stories rock Like "Dark end of the Bar" Others suck

That is one cool mother fucking site. I really like the Shea Seger link, mostly because she's totally hot. Also because her site is totally bad ass and makes my site look like a fucking joke. I've got a dog and pony show over here. Listen to her music now.

From: The Carneys
Hey Johnie Did you ever wonder how many of the riders that won a race or stage got to nail the podium girls? They all have great set of tits and w/ blow job lips. I'm telling you that would be the only motivation I needed to win a race (okay maybe a good beer, which has worked on occasion).
Later man!
East Coast Fan
P.S. Tell your boys to hang-out at the Wall next year where the really partying goes on to well past the race. The girls don't show up until the end of the race and then go out to the bars and after parties, so all the girls are looking good by then.

Podium girls are hot. That is a standard regardless of what country the race ends in. When you win, you get kissed by the best the town has to offer. What fun. Clink here to see what I'm talking about.

  Sunday, June 17, 2001
I'm sitting around in sweaty, stinking lycra trapped in my own stench. Why not just shower off, dumbass? Well, it's like this. My house in now a fucking wide open freeway of question asking fruitloops. I'm trying to sell this mother fucker and in order to do so I have to sacrifice a little privacy. I can't take a shower because I'm far to busy avoiding the prospective buyer and her overly inquisitive parents.

"Jon, do you have a key to the shed?"
"Jon, do you have a key to the back gate?"
"Jon, how big is the attic?"
"Jon, can we see some recent electric bills?"

How about I start asking a few questions? Like, for starters, where's the fucking money? Show me some cash, asswipe. Money talks and bullshit walks. I hope those are some new shoes you're wearing, because I think you're about to start putting in some serious mileage on those mother fuckers.

Oh, this is hell. I wish this was just an apartment so I could just ride out my contract and then fucking move out. But, I think once I get my hands on some of that green stuff my opinion will change. Cash baby, cash. Dead presidents. Green backs. I want crisp green money, and a lot of it.

And, come to think of it, I also want a shower.

  Saturday, June 16, 2001
I am sitting here doing something that I will probably catch hell for later. I am poaching the left over Pita Jungle chow someone left in the fridge. That is a big mistake.

Now I know why my dog lays around on the sofa all day, knowing full well whats going to happen when I come home to a warm, hair covered sofa. She knows it's bad, and she does it anyway. She does it because it's worth it. Like this three bean, hippie salad concoction I'm stuffing my grill with. It's so fucking good I can't believe I let it alone for as long as I did. It really isn't my fault. You can't expect me not to eat this.

From: Response
Dear Jonny,
What is to become of Arizona Racing?? Will you now represent Idaho racing? Oh yeah I've been saving some pics for you but I've been too busy watching the Lakers Whoop Ass to send them till now.
P.S. Keep us posted on the commune.

Ah, Reponse. Always so good to hear from you. Always bring the goods don't ya? Nice pics. My plan is to continue with the whole racing thing while I'm up there with the frozen tundra, the caribou and whatnot. I only hope they have racing. I've heard about some races in a place called Sand Point that are supposed to kick ass. I like ass kicking, so I'm in.

Oh yeah, Fuck the Lakers. I hate those idiots. Can't anyone put together a team that can beat those guys? C'mon, somebody step the fuck up already. I really don't want to see another "three-peat".

From: H-Ball
Well,
What the fuck you gonna do? Ultimately we all want to take the good and leave the bad. But you can't, so fuck it. Time to whoop it up fucker! No more pouting. You now know you have limited time to ride, to drink and to fuck your friends. Get on the fucking ball and get a ride in before it's over.
FUck you
G. Gnome

Wow, you been drinkin' the hard shit all day or something? Damn. You want a fucking hug over there, or something. Maybe my teddy bear and blankie?

God Damn, I love that man.

Not like you're thinking... I want to fuck him. Right in the ass. And I'd do it proper. Like a Viking warrior.

From: Jim
Hey Big Drunk Jonny,
I finally got an e-mail from you that I can read, so keep using the jim@flightofthepigs.com address (not the others). Someone really liked what you wrote and made this picture (attached). Keep trying to rile up the single speeders so we have a good time at Williams.

Flight of the pigs. Learn it, live it, love it. I can't wait to fucking level Williams, Arizona. No preride, no race prep. Nothing. This one's personal. It's go time.

I want to see 50 fucking single speeders pounding beers in the start gate at 9:00 am. And when those freaks with the bullhorn start yelling at us, like they do every race, I want to see eight hundred empty beer cans rain down like a cleansing wave of love.

In response to the rampant performance enhancing drug problem at the Giro, I think the entire drunkcyclist.com team will indulge in a four day binge of nothing but performance de-enhancing drugs. I feel we're so dominant in the races that we really need to handicap ourselves in order to give some of the other competitors a fighting chance. It's only sporting, after all.

  Friday, June 15, 2001
When the heat comes back to this town like it did today I really hate this place. It lays on me like an blanket. Not a happy warm, fuzzy blanket. Not like the one you had when you were a kid. No this blanket sucks. It suffocates. It smoothers. It drains. It's makes me very tired and quickens my temper in ways that surprise me even in my 31st year. I will not miss this.

Which, as it turns out, is a good thing as my wife is going to the University of Idaho this fall and the house is up for sale. We're moving and I couldn't be more excited about it.

I will miss Arizona. Or, parts of it anyway. All the parts where trees grow of the own accord and it maybe even snows a little. Those are the good places. Phoenix, this burned out meth-infested, hip gangster wanna-be, paved over urban sprawl piece of shit, I won't miss for a minute. You can quote me on that.

There is a ton of really great riding in this state, for both road and mountain bikes. So much so, in fact, that I haven't done everything I wish I could have living in this state in the last eleven years. I guess that might be a good enough reason to come back and visit someday.

That and all the cool people I've met. In a town this size, and I mean it's fucking huge. What are we know, a couple of million? Well, in a town this size you're going to meet a few assholes. That's to be expected. Cost of doing business, you know. But, I have met some of the best people I've ever known in this state. Maybe I'll take all of them with me to Idaho. I can start my own mountain bike commune. Our motto could be: drink, ride, fuck.

It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

I've got to wrap up this little thing I do here and go on down to the Woodshed to watch the Sixers take on Goliath. I hate the fucking Lakers. Bunch of bitches.

  Thursday, June 14, 2001
I'll tell ya like this: selling your house is a weird experience. This being the first home I've ever owned, I cannot compare what I'm going through to much. But, God damn.

When I leave in the morning I have to tidy up and make sure my underwear isn't on the floor. Clean, folded towels in the bathroom and the whole nine yards. It's so freaky.

Without considering it I had left my paycheck on the kitchen counter. Like I usually do. But, when I came home there was a business card from a realtor next to it. The card is left to show who's been snooping around your house while you were at work. Trying on your socks, underwear, and the like while using your toothbrush to part ass hair. Laughing at how much money I make. At least that's my fear at the moment.

Can you believe one of these son's a bitches broke my mother fucking light switch in the spare bedroom? What's up with that? I come home, walk down the hall, reach my hand into the darkened room and sweep my hand across the wall where usually a light switch is awaiting the slightest pressure to release it's full glory. Tonight, no glory. I fuck around and get the lights on, only to discover the broken plastic pieces of what used to be my fucking light switch in three distinct parts on the floor. Thank you very much for that one, stranger. Now buy my house, you asswipe.

Ah, life is pain, is it not?

After discovering that Bike magazine reviewed, recommended, highlighted, whatever A Sunday in Hell like I did this week, I came home and watched it again. Bad ass. I don't care what you ride: single speed, squishy dually, road, this movie is bad ass. Watch it and try to finish a twelve pack by the time the race enters the velodrome. Good times.

From: Bosco
Big Jonny,
Haven't written you since the Giro blew up like an over-inflated Kenda tube full of Slime... What a fuckin' mess! Cycling News reports that there are 70 or so riders that will be affected by this thing. I was in heaven up until that point. It was so remarkable that we could watch it LIVE!!! Trying to follow an international event from the ball-sports crazy U.S. just about impossible. I mean, I'm getting ready for work and watching the Giro LIVE and watching all the studs up close and personal.

I don't think the riders and the organizers get it. How much longer do they think the OLN and other TV wonks are going to hang around and pay big money to get stuck with the bullshit image and the possibility of having to scramble to fill the air time because they didn't ride the stage? How many more scandals do they think the big sponsors are going to endure with out bailing? And I don't want to hear all that whining about the cops. How long ago did Tom Simpson die on Mont Ventoux? Cycling has known about this shit for years. The cops are just forcing them to do what they said they would do.

Great moments? You betcha. I was hoping for a big day for Julio Perez and got to see him and Simoni put in a great day of climbing. Perez was brilliant, but Simoni has class. I was late to work on that day, but who cares? Then, of course, Simoni attacking and descending in the rain on stage 20. Man, class and balls too. Mario, getting older, getting faster. With or without the red guard he is still incredible. And Thomas Voeckler, the last remaining Bonjour rider out of 9 on the last stage. The peloton allowed him to go up the road to win the last Intergiro sprint. I just love all that stuff.

Sorry that Pantani didn't explode like you were hoping. I love to watch him ride too, but I guess we are left to conclude that it really was the EPO not the man. Ullrich. Watch him during the Tour. I think we didn't see anything close to reality in the Giro. He was taking some monster pulls into the sprints at 36+ mph! A hell of a leadout man. I hope he rocks Lance's world. Lance is so full of himself again. Have you seen some of those quotes in Bicycling? "If I keep riding the way I am, I can't lose."
Faaaaaahhhhhhhkkkkk!

What's up with the gaff about your site? Doesn't it say ".If you don't like it, you can go to hell?" Pretty clear targeted marketing as far as I am concerned. I get enough of all the customer and employee sensitivity crap at work. Roll on.

Of course, no letter is complete without a porn attachment. Here is one more for the bicycle hotties collection. Not that cute, but, "post-worthy." I would like to see some who are riding a great bike, rather than a Wal-Mart POS.

One other bike lust picture. Not girls, but legs. Check out Danilo Hondo, two stage winner in the Giro. Ya he be sprintzin gut ya!

    

Thanks for the letter. And I couldn't agree with you more. About Pantani and EPO, drugs in general, that girl and her box, Hondo's friggin massive legs, everything. Nice work. Keep it up.

This showed up from, well, it's a secret. But that is a naked chick, and that is a bicycle. Click here to see for yourself. Just thank the airborne swine for that one.

What do you want, Penelope soft, or Penelope hard? You make the call.

Well, I'm tired as shit. Like always. And I'm getting up at 5:30 am to go riding. Like always. So, till tomorrow. Like always.

  Wednesday, June 13, 2001
Just got in from yet another mid-week trip up to Flagstaff and cool mountain weather. Almost too cool, as a matter of fact. I'm not sure it got much above 65 degrees. And for a desert dweller like myself, that spells trouble. I froze my ass off. Well, part of it anyway. Most of my ass is still there.

From: Scott
Subject: I think you meant...
to put cyclingnews.com/features/meetingoftheminds.shtml for the link about the doping.

Tall Todd sent in this link, and it's fucking scary.

From: Dave
Subject: Links
Yo bra bro broie bro,
Cool assed flash link button at pleasure box. I guess I need to get my creative cap on to keep up. Anyhow, hanging in flag watching the mountain burn, all is good except for that. I would love to kick the shit out of whoever left there fire burning.
ANyway, be back on Fri. Hope you can make it up here before though.

Right on Dave. It's a bitch about the fucking fires up there. I saw the smoke all damn day. The best part is knowing it was some fucking shit bag who probably lives here in Phoenix that left his campfire smoldering that started the thing in the first place. Makes me proud to live in Phoenix, let me tell you.

I'm fucking dead to the world. It's almost midnight. I have a ton of shit to upload. Thanks to everyone who keeps sending in all the great letters and pics. I'll get to it as soon as I can. Look for some cool shit tomorrow. Goodnight Cleveland.

  Monday, June 11, 2001
Tonight I sat on my ass, or actually I laid on my side, and watched A Sunday In Hell. If you have never seen this movie, stop what your doing and make arrangements to view it immediately. "Arguably the best film ever made about professional cycling" says the International Film Guide. Ever hear of the International Film Guide? Me neither. It's about the greatest thing ever.

If you haven't already noticed a pattern to these links, just keep changing the number in the address, and hitting refresh. You know, tits06 to tits07. I don't think they ever end. I'm up to number 8 already.

How about the fucking link button for drunkcyclist.com over at pleasurebox. Now that's the coolest thing ever.

Go read this about doping in cycling. It's so well stated that it leaves me very little to say on the subject. Not like I haven't spewed off about it before.

What a night. Hell, even the world's angriest hippie stopped by. He, I must tell you, is very bummed that he going to miss the State Finals race out in Williams at the end of this month. He'll be in Germany, and I can't think of a better reason to miss the race. We'll all miss him. Especially the little red wagon over at Adventure Racing. That wagon just got a call from the Governor as far as I'm concerned. No more repeated downhill runs for 'ol red.

I personally can't wait just to see what happens at what promises to be a drunken disaster. Usually we keep a lid on it till the race is over, but I'm already hearing the call for cold beers in the start gate. And you know I'm down by law on that one.

It never ceases to amaze me how much this website pill party jerk off fest of mine polarizes everyone I know. You either love it or hate it I guess. Or, as I've heard from time to time, you either love or hate me. What fucking ever. I heard about a girl who likes to display her new tattoo in the most private of areas with any boy that will look, and thinks that this site is way too much. An interesting paradox.

Shit, I've run into people that pretty much won't even talk to me anymore. I think it's a fucking riot. Sure, I post all kinds of completely unsubstantiated rumors on this site all the damn time, but you know what? Maybe you outta rock the boat every now and again. Blow the whistle, throw the flag and make the God damn call already. Make some waves for Christ's sake, have a little fun. Let loose a little. Life really shouldn't be so serious.

I dunno, it's just a thought.

  Monday, June 11, 2001
Well, well, well here we are. Another Sunday night in front of the computer. I guess Paul Katcher has been updated. But no! Now it's updates on Monday! Fuck! Go check it out anyway. It's just that funny. While your at it, check out this too. I thought it was cool.

From: Todd
Subject: First Union Pics
Jonny,
Ok so these aren't the best, but our cheap little point and shoot digital might give you a little joy. The race was good and we sat at the top of Lemon Hill, which you probably know is a good spot where all the freaks hang and beat on buckets, bells and drums and scream. Its a relatively short but steep up that corkscrews to the right. But even on that slope those guys were flying up it.

Saw Forbes in there mixing it up with a group a few minutes off the main chase group. First time we saw him I had a mouthful of piza and a bottled water in hand, so he was probably hating me. I think it stunned him to hear folks shouting his name. Unfortunately, he was pulled during the last lap of the final circuits and i had just convinced 8 or so folks to scream "Pedal you fucking Hamfist". He was pushing hard but the first groups were pushing harder.

Best moment of the day belonged to the missuz. After some of the trailing groups came up the hill a lone biker started up the climb. The PA guy starts in with, "Here he comes folks, he's 47 years old and still mixing it up, let's hear it for KEEEEEEENT BOOOOOOOOSSSSSSTICK". A ripple of applause goes through the crowd. As he passes us within a few feet, at the top of the climb, Charlene yells, "YOU SUCK BOSTICK!". She got a few stares and was just like "What? If he's a jerk, I'm gonna let him know."

I guess that you heard the ending but I think it was Klasna who came through our little hill 1st with Hincapie only a second or 2 off his wheel. The others were right behind them. Apparently Fred Rodriguez made a hell of a jump off the chasers and caught the 2 by surprise right as they were trying to outfox each other on who was going to lead who out. Neither saw him coming and he must have been flying as he put 20 seconds into them in the last km or so for the win.

Take care and keep cool. I think were coming your way in October, but I'll let you know more as it gets closer. Will you still be around then? How has the possible move been going? This is definitely the time of year where you want to get the fuck out of dodge.

Say hey to the Hippy and the Slug. I miss the Angy Hammer lads. Is Swilliams still kicking about or did he finally split?

Gotta go, see ya,
Todd

Here are the pics Tall Todd took in Philly. Notice "Hamfist" Forbes. That son of a bitch was in Philly!

I might have already linked this, who knows. Anyway, enjoy.

  Friday, June 08, 2001
I’m such a fucking pussy, I just turned down an invitation to watch the Giro and drink beer with Slugmaster Casey and Hippie Corey. Son of a bitch. I just can’t hang.

Some people have asked about my Sixers link and all that basketball shit. Well, it’s like this. I’ve been a Sixers fan for years, as long as I can remember. The fact that they’re in the NBA finals is totally cool and I’m so fucking stoked I can’t see straight. I want the Lakers to die a thousand deaths. Those fucking assholes. I hate the fucking Lakers. Die die die.

I can respect talent. Players like Kobe Bryant are incredibly gifted. But I can’t stand the sneering attitude. The guy is a fucking dickhead. A man should never gloat in his victories like that. It’s unsportsmanlike and disgraceful.

You want to see a man? Did you see what Simoni did in the Giro, giving a stage win to Perez? That’s class, my friends. That’s a man.

So, in conclusion: Simoni good, Lakers bad.

I won’t be around to upload anything tomorrow, so fucking sue me. I think it’ll all be OK in the end. I’m going camping and riding some up where trees grow and it ain’t 4,000 degrees out by lunchtime. You dig?

I’ve got some new videos to show off, I just haven’t gotten all that upload shit squared away yet. Hey, you think this is easy? You try this crap with a fucking dial up 56k. And it isn’t ever actually 56k. That’s one of those urban myth things. It doesn’t actually exist.

Jim at Flight of the pigs has some race photo’s up from the infamous Rock Rabbit. Here’s a nice one of me. I look like hell on a bike, I’ve decided. The next guy behind me is Casey, the fucking Slugmaster. You can see he’s toying with me, waiting to pounce. Oh, it was ugly.

From: Jason Tallous
big jonny,
I finally fixed my computer or had some one fix my computer. I did the fix-it myself thing and just fucked it all up. I had wires going places I can't even mention on your site.

Flagstaff is hot today and I had to buy an evaporative cooler. 85 degrees is pushing my limit.

Big Bear Race Report

We went out extremely hard and my heart pounded 180 beats a minute---that's fast for me. After lap one, four guys---Ryder, Green, White Rasta, and JHK---were thirty seconds on our group of ten that included Larsen, Brown, Killen, Gully, Sheppard, two Costa Ricans, and a Mexican. Larsen is pulling the group along yelling for someone to pull thru. We hate the bastard and just laughed at him. He pulls his brake levers and almost causes a crash. Some more yelling ensues and Killen skids at Larsen. Larsen then rides back to the front and pushes Jimi till Jimi rides off the road. I start screaming "get'em Steve." Then Travis Brown speeds to the front yelling at Steve to stop. Larsen then goes back to the front and pulls us up the road. I love racing.

Larsen pick up the pace and I had to slow down. I rode the rest of the lap with Jimi---9th, 10th. At the top of the climb, I realized I dropped my water bottle some where. I had no feeders but pleaded as I rode through the feed zone for water. Everyone just grasped their bottles tighter and pulled them tighter to their bodies. A NORBA volunteer gave me a small styrofoam cup of half-filled H2O. I had one hour left and no water.

I hung on to Jimi for as long as I could. My legs ached to stop but I kept visions of finding a lonely water bottle along the trail. No H20 and riders were passsing me. I dropped back to 17th by the top and two more riders were on my heels. I started the descent. There is my bottle but I must hurry. Work the downhill with speed and smoothness.

I came across the line 17th, 1 min behind 11th and 30sec in front of 18th. I made it.

I still had an OK finish but will have to wait for Snowshoe for the elusive top 10 and podium.

Click here for pic.

Holy shit, do you ever need a competent support staff. And, if I ever see Larson, I might just have to fight off the urge to tackle that pansy. Everything I ever hear about that guy is bad. Now why is that, ya think? Maybe ‘cause the guy is a dickhead?

Jason, I feel your pain about the heat here in Arizona, but I though you were a tough guy Texan? Your Daddy wouldn’t want to hear that kind of talk, would he? And 85 degrees? Are you kidding? It’s fucking 85 in my house right now, at 10:30 at night with my swamp cooler blasting like the poor sorry bastard has been for hours. When I go to Flagstaff Saturday night, it’s going to be like I died and went to heaven. Maybe I should bring you up a little 110 heat?

This is my parting shot.

  Thursday, June 07, 2001
Holy hand grenades, it's hotter than hell around here. What gives.

I see that naked, drunken cycling is just not tolerated in some places.

I got this in the mail three times, so I guess it must be good. It made me laugh because it may be closer to the truth than many women realize. Is that a bad thing? I wonder.

Speaking of bad things, I met a guy today who just plain blew my mind. I was showing him some new handle bar / stem combo's and I guess I was just being nice to him when he told me a little about his life. The guy just got out of the Federal pen 4 months ago. Can you believe that shit? I think he did something like 20 years. That’s some hard time.

I though he was a nice guy. A little hard around the edges and maybe a bit off up top. But I would be too after that many years of just sitting in a box. You know what you get in the pen? One hour outside your cell, per day. If you fuck up, it gets taken away. No tv, no magazines, no books, no sunshine, nothing and nobody.

I know he had done some bad things. He told me a little about what it was that got him tossed in, but I didn't really want to know. And I'm not sharing. All I can say is at what point is a man's crime paid for? At what point has he served his time?

Because I'd really like to know.

Click here if you have a problem with looking at girls asses like I do.

  Thursday, June 07, 2001
I wasn't going to do an update this morning as I haven't enough time in my life as it is, but God damn....

The fucking Giro is a complete disaster.

Read all about it at cyclingnews.com.

I'm pretty bummed out about that one. I hope it can all be sorted out. I know that most riders are doped up to the limit, I'm a big boy and I can handle that. I just hate to see such a great race get all fucked up like that.

Fuck it.

  Monday, June 04, 2001
Well hot diggity dog hot rod motherfucker. I just had to say that. I thought I'd have some good post race stories, but no. Wanna see a pic of Kyle leading the charge up the first climb in a wifebeater? Click here. You can also make out other drunkcyclist.com riders Dru and Casey. Yeah, they finished the race. They are not like me: losers.

It's a shame some asshole had to tattle on poor Kyle for pulling off the race course during the first lap to find his car, find his floor pump and top off a soft tire that his bullshit quickfill failed to properly inflate. I know your not supposed to accept any outside assistance during a race, but c'mon. The guy would have finished 5th. I fail to see how his actions can be construed as any kind of unfair advantage. He had to go find his car for Christ's sake, it's not like he got pushed up the hill or some shit like that.

I just don't think that mechanical problems like the 10 billion flat tires racers had on that fucking God awful race course should play a part in the standings. I know this is mountain biking and you supposed to be self sufficient. I just think he got a raw deal.

Speaking of raw deals, If I ever do that race again I'm bringing 17 extra tubes and a twelve pack of Schlitz. Fuck it, I'm making a day of it. I'm going to finish that son of a bitch.

Um, have a look at this. And this too, while your at it. Don't stop now, click here.

Like 'em healthy? Then click here. And I just can't forget this is just plain freaky. You know what I'm saying?

From: #domenic's
Subject: Tour de fuckin' France
So, this years tour is a huge cluster fuck! The value of this years race has plummeted. How can you remove two of the top teams in pro cycling and two of the most popular and explosive riders in the world in Chipo' and the Pirate & still consider this the premiere race of the season? Sure, the Tour promoters are showing their balls over their ethics, but at the extent of sacrificing what they have built up as the most famous & prestigious race in the world. As you said, neither Seaco nor Mercitoni Uno have a lagitament threat to the over all victory, but they definitely have the ability to influence the total outcome and win various stages. And by the way, fuck Mercury, they proved this year that you can't buy yourself into the tour and if you do well in some races that nobody else shows up at, who cares! If your Team director is a complete ass you are going to get fucked!

For many American viewers, two of the only non-American athletes in the tour that they may have been able to recognize have now been pulled. You now do not have the brash arrogance of Chippolini and the uncontrollable freak of nature and pharmaceuticals Pantani. Who are the unknowing Americans going to follow, Lance? I hear everyday "what, there is a US Postal Team?" If your not into cycling nobody Knows. Hell, the only American press I've heard from has already given Lance the win.

It's bullshit!! I want more excitement, hell if I want to see the tour next year on OLN somebody is going to have to come out of nowhere and mix things up this year or it could be a real boring tour and that doesn't sell advertising and that is what it all comes down to. Pray for rain and crashes( kind of like Nascar) and that Ullrich can stay of the bismarks between the Giro and the Tour because he is looking good right now. Casagrande is going to be on some killer drugs to cure that broken arm and he will have something to prove after getting tossed from the Giro on the first day. Maybe some Crazy shit will go down, maybe Lance will go into remission, maybe the men in pink will soon have sombody wearing yellow, we can only hope.

Go JAN!!!!!

Right on, brother. You're preaching to the choir on that one. Sure, I'd like to see Lance win three in a row as much as the next guy, but the difference between me and the average Chicago Bulls, or Dallas Cowboy's fan is I want to see him earn it.

And this outta make some sense of some of the bullshit being thrown around by our President. Stupid country bumkin' is gonna be the end of us all.

From: Cuth
Subject: Very Interesting

Published in the NYTimes, written by a professor at the ol' alma mater:

June 4, 2001
The Mirage of a Growing Fuel Supply
By EVAR D. NERING

SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. - When I discussed the exponential function in the first-semester calculus classes that I taught, I invariably used consumption of a nonrenewable natural resource as an example. Since we are now engaged in a national debate about energy policy, it may be useful to talk about the mathematics involved in making a rational decision about resource use.

In my classes, I described the following hypothetical situation. We have a 100-year supply of a resource, say oil - that is, the oil would last 100 years if it were consumed at its current rate. But the oil is consumed at a rate that grows by 5 percent each year. How long would it last under these circumstances? This is an easy calculation; the answer is about 36 years.

Oh, but let's say we underestimated the supply, and we actually have a 1,000-year supply. At the same annual 5 percent growth rate in use, how long will this last? The answer is about 79 years.

Then let us say we make a striking discovery of more oil yet - a bonanza - and we now have a 10,000-year supply. At our same rate of growing use, how long would it last? Answer: 125 years.

Estimates vary for how long currently known oil reserves will last, though they are usually considerably less than 100 years. But the point of this analysis is that it really doesn't matter what the estimates are. There is no way that a supply-side attack on America's energy problem can work.

The exponential function describes the behavior of any quantity whose rate of change is proportional to its size. Compound interest is the most commonly encountered example - it would produce exponential growth if the interest were calculated at a continuing rate. I have heard public statements that use "exponential" as though it describes a large or sudden increase. But exponential growth does not have to be large, and it is never sudden. Rather, it is inexorable.

Calculations also show that if consumption of an energy resource is allowed to grow at a steady 5 percent annual rate, a full doubling of the available supply will not be as effective as reducing that growth rate by half - to 2.5 percent. Doubling the size of the oil reserve will add at most 14 years to the life expectancy of the resource if we continue to use it at the currently increasing rate, no matter how large it is currently. On the other hand, halving the growth of consumption will almost double the life expectancy of the supply, no matter what it is.

This mathematical reality seems to have escaped the politicians pushing to solve our energy problem by simply increasing supply. Building more power plants and drilling for more oil is exactly the wrong thing to do, because it will encourage more use. If we want to avoid dire consequences, we need to find the political will to reduce the growth in energy consumption to zero - or even begin to consume less.

I must emphasize that reducing the growth rate is not what most people are talking about now when they advocate conservation; the steps they recommend are just Band-Aids. If we increase the gas mileage of our automobiles and then drive more miles, for example, that will not reduce the growth rate.

Reducing the growth of consumption means living closer to where we work or play. It means telecommuting. It means controlling population growth. It means shifting to renewable energy sources.

It is not, perhaps, necessary to cut our use of oil, but it is essential that we cut the rate of increase at which we consume it. To do otherwise is to leave our descendants in an impoverished world.

Evar D. Nering is professor emeritus of mathematics at Arizona State University.

Anyone else feel like a beer? Shit fire, that is one grim forecast. But, I fear it is an accurate one as well. My thoughts? Ride your fucking bike.

  Sunday, June 03, 2001
I got a link to this page because there was a story on a bunch of poor fucks getting arrested after a round of nude bicycling, an activity I whole heatedly support by the way. Well, I never did find the story, but I like the site. They even have topless "page 3" girls for your drooling pleasure.

God damn right on that one, buddy. I couldn't have said it better myself.

I was solicited to buy banner space at some fuck-o webpage. Yeah, like I have any money. $240.00 a month? Man, you really have no idea who you're talking to. I'm not really sure, but I think this page might just a little on the "young" side if you know what I'm sayin'. My bum is one the cam! You be the judge, click here.

I've been working on putting together a gallery of all the shit I've uploaded over the last six months and only linked to once. I have about 75 pics like that in a folder I call BT (big tits). I think you'll like it, I know I do. And this way I can avoid the whole delete all the old stuff dilemma so many of us who rent out server space have to think about every month when it's time to put up of shut up. Yeah, that's right, this shit costs money.

This weekends race was shit, for me anyway. I flatted twice and had to walk it in on my third and final lap. Since I was a lot closer to the beginning of the race course than to the end, I had to walk down hill towards the start finish area and declare myself a DNF. It fucking sucked.

I knew it would be rocky and all that, but I figured 2.35 tires and damn near 50 pound of pressure would be enough. Nope. And to think I actually considered bringing two spare tubes, you know, just in case. But I figured, nah fuck it, I won't flat twice, who flats twice? I do, that's who.

As of tonight, the results aren't posted anywhere and they aren't "finalized" yet either. That means that what they were after the race will change before all is said and done. Happens like that every time.

I'll try to gather all the good race stories up in a nice little bundle for tomorrow. Right now I just can't get it all straight. Not yet anyway.