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From: Mike
From: Paul Always like hearing from Paul. Hell, I like hearing about Paul. I love that guy. I was out in Tahoe about a year and a half ago, and it was fun, fun, fun. The one time I went to a casino, Paul burned through a C-note at the blackjack table before I finished my first drink. For those of you that don't know me that well, that's under eight minutes. Paul then tells anyone in a employee type uniform that he can find that "this place sucks" and "you rip people off". One drink, and we're being escorted out. It's about 3:30 in the afternoon. Fun stuff. I like this site for more than that rad yellow background color. Golf, beer, it's a life. From: Kyle
Thank you Kyle, and remember that Jesus loves you. Fucking spooner is back in action over at lameking. He was gone for awhile. Fuck, that sucked. You never miss it till its gone, do ya? I know it sounds like bullshit, but I read that site everyday. If you want to hear about spooner smashing his old guy neighbors bird bath with a shovel, just to be a rock star, then lameking it for you. More gay ass stupid jokes that nobody reads anyway got posted today. Those pieces of shit are taking up valuable hardrive space. I could trade all that in for one nice titty .jpg. I'm considering it. My man, Brain Forbes, gets 51st in the time trail. What are you talking about fat boy, you ask? Look here for all your answers. And, yes he's racing for Jelly Belly. This week anyway. Some good smack brewing on the message boards? A little Giant/Domenic's and Landis excitment, maybe. Hell, let it be decided on the road. As it should be.
I was outclassed, outmatched, dropped, popped, sprayed, played and laid all within the first twenty miles. It took me back to that first day on the porno set. There I was, all fluffed up and ready to rock, my moisture missile a glorious testament to effectiveness of my Swedish penis pump. And in rolls Peter North with his table leg sized monster cock. I was relegated to the second string trombone players, pack fodder for sure. I felt the same way today. The last 17 miles were the worst. I broke a spoke on the rear wheel in Miami, and had to nurse it in. No more out of the saddle efforts on the climbs. All three of them. I was afraid of breaking anymore as the little bitch creaked and moaned when I did stand just one time. Siting the whole way back, that felt really good. And, no bombing the descents. Big descents. The whole ass end of my bike vibrated and danced around if I went over 25 mph. I had the rear brakes wide open to the point of uselessness so the fucked up wheel could pass between the pads. Front brakes only for the fat man. These were the types of suck in your nutsack hills that you could probably hit 50. And here I was counting to five one thousand and squeezing the front brake for one second the whole way down. The last 17 miles blew it hard. All that and no shoulder to speak of and a shit load of traffic. Trucks, tour buses, mobile homes, idiots pulling boats and horse trailers. You name it, I was almost crushed by it. I don't know if there is anything in the world more terrifying than riding uphill, with a lame duck rear wheel, five hours in to a six plus hour loop, no strength left, high noon sun beating down, on a thin ribbon of white paint half covered with gravel, no shoulder, big metal guard rail not more that eight inches away from your knees when two absolutely huge trucks come by, running abreast on one another, one passing the other. And I mean, these fuckers are right on top of you, brother. This thing is blasting by at 50 - 60 mph, and it's not more that three feet away from you. The noise is incredible. You scream, and you can't hear it. And the wind, you feel as though you are going to be sucked into the gaping maw of those evil rear tires. They taste you, they want you. You're sure your going to die. How can you not? Right then and there, I shit in my pants.
Since I couldn't come up with any decent naked girls with bicycles pictures, Wild Bill sent me some. I suck. OK, here comes the stupid part. I hate this shit. But, sometimes you just have to roll up your sleeves and get in there. Here goes nothing...
And this is a notice to all those at White Mountain and Landis who lack a sense of humor. If I post something on my site that someone else wrote, that's just what it is. Something someone else wrote. It may or may not be accurate, it may or may not be true. I may or may not care. If I get interesting things in my fucking mail box, I post them. I don't care if it's a naked chick .jpg, porn link, joke, white trash page, or a fucking hateful rant. I post the things I find interesting. If you think that there is another side to a story, try writing it down and sending it to me. I'll post it. I don't care. Man, I'm glad that's over with.
I'd like to congratulate the young Mexican who chased me up the hill, like a champ, on his huffy this morning. I didn't really want to pass him and his buddy, I'm not that macho, but it just sorta happens like that sometimes. I went by, pointed at the climb, and said, "hola, mucho trabajo, eh?" The two of them laughed and nodded. Then I heard it. This guys bike was a total rattle trap. It sounded like someone pushing a shitty old shopping cart. And it was right behind me, not more than forty feet back. I turned and smiled, and he smiled back. He had left his buddy for dead and was giving chase. I went down a gear, to see if he'd stay around. I think he spent himself on the initial effort, and that was that. I did see him at the top of the hill when I was turning around though, and he was still smiling. Fucking cool.
A bunch of drunkcyclist associated riders (read: friends) raced yesterday at McDowell Meltdown. I pussed out for two (I think) very good reasons. 1) I just dropped five bills on my fucking car this week. 2) I don't have a single speed put together right now. Both reasons are bullshit, but it helps me to sleep at night. Anyway, from what I hear Kyle and Dru, from the 24 hour race team, got 6th and 15th. My neighbor "bong boy" Cory, the angry hippie got 7th. Scottish Chris cracked the top ten at 9th. And last, but defiantly not least, my main man, "kill shit" Casey got (insert number just shy of last place here) th. Remember, all of this is completely unsubstantiated bullshit and is probably all wrong. The results aren't up yet as of 9:30 Sunday night to verify anything. Fuck it, close enough. I also have nothing to offer up on the road race up in Parker this weekend. Ah, I'll have one more beer and hit the phone again. If I get anything I'll post it tonight. If not, all you poor bastards have to wait.
I forgot to thank the assholes that threw a beer can at me when I was riding out to Tortilla Flat on Wednesday. Fuckers. I'd also like to take this opportunity to wish a painful death on the bastard that ran me off Mill Ave. on the same day. It's a good thing I can bunny hop up to the sidewalk if I need to, 'cause believe me, I needed to then. I hope both you dickheads die. And soon. No news yet on Parker. But, rest assured that when I hear, you hear. Until then, I will try to fulfill the dreams of one young man. From: Wild Bill I'l see what I can come up with for ya Wild Bill.
I put in some work today on the bike, four hours of flat boring riding in the 39. Christ, it's true what they say: it's easy to go hard and hard to go easy. I also put in work on the wallpaper page. Added a few new ones. And, I resized a bunch of that shit so it'll actually download for those of us with dial-ups. By the way, I fucking hate the fact that my sister gets kick ass, really fast DSL in her neighborhood, and she doesn't even care. It just doesn't matter to her. Me, I have a fucking website to contend with. And stupid me, I live in what has to be the only part of Phoenix without any highspeed options available. What the fuck is up with that shit?
OK, that's it. I want pictures of boobs with drunkcyclist.com written all over them. Or, maybe just a big 'ol D and a big 'ol C would suffice. That would be cool. Don't make me name names. You girls know who you are. And you know what I want. I'm sick and fucking tired of being left out on the fun. Everyone and their brother is up in Parker for Another Dam Race this weekend. I expect to have some highlights to share tomorrow night. That's right, Big Jonny is taking a stab at actual journalism. Race results and colorful commentary. I will soon rule Arizona. Anyone out there understand a word of Russian? I don't. But I did figure out that by clicking on a girls head, you will see her naked. Ain't I smart.
porn porn porn Milan San Remo tomorrow. Read all about it here. I really have no idea who to call as my favorite. I'd like to see Tchmil bring the pain, as he did in 1999. Will Bartoli be on form? How about Di Luca? I can't wait. Here is Bartoli's new website. Go have a look.
Randy Mason was one of the passers, and he got paid. He also paid for his efforts by, "puking on the climb about four times" and dry heaving at the finish, "because I had nothing left to throw up." You'd think he had paid his dues by then but no, there's more. He was so tired riding home that he, "closed his eyes a little bit and hit something." No shit. The fucking guy was riding with his eyes shut, half asleep, with one hand on the bars, down Baseline, and wrecked. He's OK, other than the usual cuts, bruises and me telling everyone how much of a jackass he is. But, he still placed third. Fucking beautiful, no? Look at the ass one this guy. Nothing says pride like dropping your drawers as soon as you hit the beach. Are those children in the background. Only in Mexico. I'll leave these two guys unnamed, but they are down with drunkcyclist.com. And, I can't prevent anyone from posting it on the message board, now can I (Kelly)? These came in today from Kyle, a drunkcyclist.com "team" rider. What does a team rider get? Exactly what he deserves: a sticker.
Oh, and it looks like I'll be at the Tour de Gila this May and Nationals in June. Riding, you ask? Ah, no, wrenching for Ochner. It's better they squeeze me in a car. Really.
This here is a cactus. Here I am descending a washed out rut of a hill. Nice freaking scenery, huh? Me climbing. Yardsale and me keeping it rollin'. Notice the wagging tongue. Guys only do that when they're really fast, so I'm a stud, right? Another shot of my big ass. And I think this may be the only shot Dave took from behind me. Usually he was way out in front, like this for example. You can hardly see it, but Yardsale is in that shot, just way the fuck back there. And you can't even see me at all. But, here's one more of the big man throwing it in a corner. Wow, that was a lot of work. I was very surprised this week to notice a posting on the message board from David Millar. In fact, I thought it had to be bullshit. Someone is jerking my chain, right? I've only been wearing the webmaster helmet for a few months, and I forget that this shit really is worldwide. But David Millar? For Christ's sake that son of a bitch has worn the yellow jersey in the fucking Tour. I didn't believe it was him, and sent an email to that effect. He posted it and you can see it here. If someone posted with the name O. J. Simpson, I'd throw the flag on that one too. At least Millar hasn't killed anyone. (yet) I'm working on a proper video page to share some of the stupid ass crap I've been collecting. In fact, most of the .mpeg's are uploaded and ready to roll, I just haven't sorted out how I want to link them all up. I told all of two people about what was uploaded, where, and under what file name. I looked over my usage files today and saw that one has been accessed 25 times in the last three days. You can see it too, by clicking right here. Rocky was on t.v. tonight and I had to sit there and watch the entire thing. That movie fucking rules. I want to punch the living shit out of beef carcasses too, but I hit like a girl and not a freight train. Damnit. Two new jokes today. Does anyone actually read that shit? I'm starting to think that the answer is no. While I'm talking about totally worthless shit, take a look at this shit. You know all those dumbass banner ads my stupid ass plastered all over the place? Well, I'm supposed to get something along the lines of .07 cents per unique. Sounds straightforward enough. I've got 60 something. But what is this?
Ouch. Looks like it's goodbye banners. Somewhere in this is Brian "Hamfist" Forbes. I can't see him, but he was really there. Maybe way in the back? I imagine he's the one telling Trent Klasna to "fuck off".
The second day of spring brought 90 degree temps and lots of fun wind to Phoenix. Not a good combo is your fat and out of shape. And I am both. I have a sunburn, and that wind just sucked the life outta me. It's a good thing you can buy an 89 cent fruit pie at 7-11 when your absolutely fucked. How do they pack 470 calories in those things anyway? I'll tell ya, I would have pushed my own grandmother down a flight of stairs for that fruit pie. Best fruit pie, ever. I also found out that if you buy a few things at the Tortilla Flat store and then ask if they have a sink to fill your bottle with, the answer will be "No." If you want water, you have to buy it. Fuckers. I went around back to where the spigot used to be and found nothing. I used to just walk around the building and take what I needed. But, apparently they got wise to the practice. It's not like I'm asking for much. But the Marina at Canyon Lake has ice cold water, all you can drink. They're nice at the Marina. The 'ol Garden Nome and Hamfist didn't ride with me, but they had one hell of a morning to contend with. Up at 3:30 am so they could sit in front of Tempe town lake spinning away on trainers so the morning show on NBC would have something as a backdrop to the weather forecast. And they were spinning away for something like two hours. I, of course, slept through the whole thing. No way I was gonna get up at that hour to watch that on t.v. I see enough of those fuckers as it is. But, I did miss the moment when the weather man asked Dave about racing and how he did last year at Parker. It went something like this. Weather guy: How'd ya do in the race, Dave? True story.
Long time readers of this site will know of my love affair with the automobile. I can't win with the mother fuckers. This time it's a water pump. Sounds easy enough, doesn't it? You'd think so, but toss in some new gaskets made out of new space age material called "cardboard" and a new thermostat, and you've got easy to the tune of five hundred dollars. Ouch, you wanna at least spit on that dick your shoving up my ass there buddy? Is a reach around out of the question? Oh fucking joy. I get to ride with Diamond Dave, the angry little garden Nome, and Hamfist Forbes who's just back from a week of getting pissed off in Redlands and a last stage DNF. Those guys are going to fucking kill me. Why in the world did I agree to a friendly little 90 mile ride with those two? Am I completely insane? Dave's last couple of letters were such a hit (yeah, people love him) that we might just make him a regular thing around here. I figure if I give him the box to stand up and shout on, he might just chill out and get off the medication. No, I'm just kidding about the meds. But he does need a little boost now and again, doesn't he? Cute little guy. Anyway, look for more totally pissed the fuck off ranting from everyone's favorite ass kicker in the near future. That is if he doesn't read all this garbage before tomorrow and I end up bobbing around in Canyon Lake as fish food. I've got lots of rad mountain bike pics of Dave, Yardsale and myself for your viewing pleasure. It's a grand 'ol gallery. These are worth sharing. Pass it forward bro, bra, dude, yah, sniggies, gnar gnar for all you mountain town trash.
I hate mountain lingo freeride, allmountain gnar gnar like Bricktop hates fucking pikies. I've got lots of rad mountain bike pics of Dave, Yardsale and myself for your viewing pleasure. It's a grand 'ol gallery. Here they are in no particular order. Now that's a lotta ass for a guy to have. And, the big man takes it through the sweeps. Yes, that's me taking a piss. A joy to see, I know. But the flowers sure are nice, and they look so thirsty. Action shot. Would ya look at the gut on that guy. Jesus, it's huge. Doesn't Yardsale look cute rolling through all those flowers? One more before I collapse into bed, here's all the boys taking a break. There is a few more pics and I'll post them tomorrow. Good night..
From: Dave And landis! You guys got 9 riders in a local
40 rider field and you only get a rider to 2nd place? You fuck'n sissies!
you should be able to ride tempo at the front the whole fuck'n time.
What a waste of entry fees.
What's funny is that I can get my teamate Ryan
a perfect lead out for the pack sprint and how many Domenics/Giant riders
did you see? Let me count- 1...2...
2 Fucking guys can smoke a pack of 9 Landis boys
and 30 other guys! You all should be crying because of your pathetic
efforts.
Except for Randy Mason. He is a bad ass Puking
mother fucker!
Man, that's great. I love that little guy. I just want to hug him and squeeze him, and... Oh, is that gay? Things I have learned at bike shops. Conclusion: if you do this for a living, you had better like bikes more than people.
So much for St Paddy. That green bastard. Thanks to Todd for the Heiniken that started the whole mess. I'm glad I didn't drink any green beer, just beer that comes in green bottles. More of that shit, if you want to endure it. Then there's the new Arkansas quarter. I can't wait to run that one against my nuts. How ya like those? I love girl. Well, I don't know so much about her, but I really like to look at her tits. They are just plain massive. Fuck it, I'm going to work.
From:
Dru And then there's the other side of the coin. From: Stanley So where does this leave me? Fuck it, I'll just keep doing what I'm doing and I guess at least half the people out there are stoked on it. Maybe. Sorta. Oh hell, while I'm just cutting and pasting to my little hearts delight, why not post this one too. I figure this goes along with the "little" and "hearts delight" theme. From: Diamond Dave
Ouch, that hurts. And so politically correct to point out the complete lack of bike handling skill. I wonder if people like that can even tie their own shoes. Todd sent this link over from across the pond in whatever the fuck lowland, frozen tundra hell hole of a country he's in now. Way more cycling coverage that you can shake a stick at. This is just plain fucking gross. Big tent sale this weekend at good old Domenic's cycling. I can't wait to work 24 hours in two days. I love it. Slash and burn pricing on all Specialized bikes, shoes, helmets, tires. If it says Specialized on it, it's on sale. And on sale big. Please buy something so my boss doesn't fire me (again). See you all in hell.
I think my tab is still open at Dos Gringo's because I left my credit card there. I wonder how many drinks I bought last night for total strangers? I'll bet all my wonderful "friends" had a few on 'ol Jonny. Fuck it. I got harshed yesterday for what some view as a decline in the quality of this website: not enough porn links. I'll see if I can fix that right now.
That ought to hold those little bastards for awhile.
Still no word on Forbes, but I fear that no news is bad news. Shit, at least the mother fucker is there. And, he ain't last. No sir. He is pack foder and proud. Well, probably not proud.
I found these fine gents somewhere, and it was entertaining for about twelve seconds. But I bookmarked them, and I'll be going back. I changed up the pro cyclist links here at drunkcyclist so they skip the dumb ass intros. Ugh, I hate the long ones. Flash can be real cool and real dumb. It's a fine line. And with music, you gotta be funking kidding me. I still like my little intro gif thing, it's quick and to the point. And, I even have a button to skip right over it entirely. I also changed the sticker price. I figured if I was pretty much giving them away, and throwing extra ones envelopes for people, what the fuck? So, it's 2 stickers for a buck. Yee Haa. If you want to find your raver dickhead candy name, click here. Mine was Fluffy Burgerchunks. Randy's is Zippy Diaperhiney. My sisters is Loopy Girdlesniffer. From: Tall Todd Dave's right , you'll never hang yourself with
a tubular. The idea is to snap your neck on the drop. You may off yourself
by asphyxiation from flopping around like a fish on a line while you
turn an ever increasing purple, but the idea of hanging is to go relatively
quick. Jump off the roof to build some momentum, then you'll snap that
neck like a turkey wishbone!
Paris-Nice is on 2 hours live every day. Don't
be too jealous though as it's all in Dutch and the eight words I know
aren't used very often. I was watching the solo breakaway yesterday,
you gotta hand it to the French, it's death-or-glory for a lot of those
guys. One question, who the hell is Phonax????? They single-handedly
led the chase down of Gaumont. I've never heard of them before, are
they new? Nice to see van Petegem leading the tempo drive into the city
for his teammate. I though it was suicide for Mercury to try ride tempo
at the front for the last 8 miles, but they did it. As my Dutch sucks,
I only learned from your site that the mountains are today. Hot Damn!
I saw an interview with van Petegem and the only thing I made out was
his shaking his head and saying "Ventoux". Guess he knows when it's
time to give it up. Maybe Tonkov can take over.
Things I learned today:
How do you like them apples? I'm the fucking administrator, for Christ's sake. Oh, I am an idiot. Word of mouth race results from Redlands put 'ol Forbsy at 156 out of 197 (something like that) in yesterdays 5k uphill time trail. Not bad for a big beefcake horse like him. Let's see if I can find the results page, ok, go here for the complete results of Stage 1. I gotta link these two idiots, Dr. Bicycles and the big Aardvark or they'll come to my house and pour liquor down my throat. Maybe that isn't such a bad thing. Except for the vomiting part. I changes around a few of the links and what not, because life is boring without change. Andre Tchmil fifth place is only 27 seconds down on race leader Peter Van Petegem in Paris-Nice. Of course, they race goes up and over the Ventoux tomorrow, so I figure both those guys are in real big trouble. We'll see, but my money is on Laurent Dufaux. He at least can climb. You gotta see the site these guys, and girls, put together. They have a beer of the month section that shouldn't be missed. It's everything I love, except maybe a whole lotta boobs.
For a couple of years now, there has been a picture hanging on the wall in the back of an unnamed Tempe bike shop. It's been great for those that could see it, and now it's time to share. For all those who know him, and the lucky ones that don't, here is Crazy Kevin in all his glory. Casey, this one's for you.
I look to see those jackasses at Specialized getting bought up by someone huge like Giant in the next year. Seriously. I hope to have some funny mountain bike pics to post soon. Since I don't exactly have a camera of my own, I must rely on the kindness of strangers. Or, in this case, Diamond Dave. As soon as I can, I'll post them complete with mindless, wandering commentary. I'll say things like, "we used to wear an onion in our belt, which was the style of the time, and we'd go on over to Shelbyville, which was Morganville at the time, so like I said we'd wear an onion in out belt, as that was the style of the time....." Why do I have such a hell of a time just getting the fucking mail around here? Can I at least once in my life scam a free program that actually fucking works for twelve God Damn minutes? Is that to much to ask? What the fuck. You'd think that a cool, hip, Gen X webmaster like myself would have some pull, but no. Not me. When I complain, the dog looks at my funny. It's like she's thinking; "What a jackass. My ass itches. What was I just saying? Fuck it, where's my ball?". I tell ya, I just can't win. Not even once. I think I got a bunch of cool pics forwarded to me today, but I'll be Damned if I can view any of them. Fuck.
Today at work Diamond Dave and I debated whether or not I could succeed in hanging my self with a tubular. He thinks yes. I think that I would only bring the ceiling of the repair shop down on my head along with every stupid wheel and tire hanging up there. How embarrassing. If Dave remembers his camera tomorrow I may just have a go at it. It can't be worse than the 70 hours I'm scheduled to work this week. It can't be. Cyclingnews.com has results of Pairs Nice stage 1. Check out the finish. Yeah, thats right, a guy from Lotto won. I like the dude all the way on the right, Ludovic Capelle of Ag2R Prevoyance. He doesn't look to happy with fourth place. In fact he looks fucking pissed. There's always tomorrow, Ludovic., Jesus Christ, I've been waiting for my stupid mail system to down load my messages for about 40 minutes now. I hate my stupid dial up bullshit and my stupid 64 megs of ram. Stupid slow downloads, stupid slow uploads. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. I need porn. Tits, boobs, milk bags, hanging friends, love potatoes. Redlands starts tomorrow and I hope Forbes kills someone. What is with the bicycle industry? It is so completely fucked. This year is going to be nuts. There is going to be some big mergers this year, and I mean fucking big. Some of you guys that read this site know what I'm talking about. Most companies are totally taking it in the ass this year. In fact I think two of the major players are showing a profit. The forecast is not good. And then, in the Phoenix Arizona area you have the infamous opening of Supergo. Great. Wonderful. And rumor has it that they'll be opening a North Valley store in addition to the one on Chandler Blvd that's just fucking ruining the market. In case your wondering what that means, dear readers, Supergo sells merchandise for under wholesale costs. You cannot compete with there prices. You can't beat them at their own game. All you can do is find a new job.
Added five more pics to the wallpaper page. It's all fixed now, thank God. To answer the question, yes, these are pretty much just a bunch of images I've been using as wallpaper here at the corporate offices of drunkcyclist.com. Also know as the spare bedroom. Whatever. Sometimes I just can't figure it out. I want to create new features for the site to keep it exciting. But, then when I actually have to pull something out of my ass it all goes to hell. Pretty much to story my life. Sniff, I love you man. Yeah right. I get to go drink beer with a recently retired former bartender tonight. Outta be tough to hang with that sort of talent. And my pride won't allow anything less than my best effort. I hope he brings a lunch, because its gonna be a long day in the saddle. Brian "Titus" Forbes is going to Redlands. My stupid drunk, fat ass isn't. Can you fucking believe that shit? Him. Redlands. Jesus, that's so damn cool. I hope he remembers all of us little people when he's all big time. The punk.
Yeah, that's what you'd think. But does it work that way? Does anything work that way? No. So, now I'm putting out fires and hashing out all kinds of BS problems. Why in the world would and FTP program upload only parts of a folders contents and not the entire thing? Why, why, why? Fuck it, I'm giving this whore another fifteen minutes of my Friday night and then I'm going out for a pizza.
The wallpaper page is up and running. Here is a whole freaking shitload of other wallpaper type pic things. If you want softcore bullshit. I don't, so fuck it. Ever hear of Lexus Locklear? I hadn't, but take a look at this, this and this and you'll wish you had sooner. Now, Silvia Saint... I heard of her, and she's smokin'. Right Kelly? She's hot, right? My favorite color on a Bianchi is celeste. Is yours also celeste? I think that maybe it should be. How about Chasey Lain? Anyone like her?
Can you believe this girls boobs? Good God, that's impressive. What man wouldn't want that around the house? And I thought just plain old stompin' on the mother fuckers was fun. Wow. How'd you like to have that girl at your next party? I'd empty the fucking fridge smashing shit with a pair of tweny pound boobs. What else can you say about it? It's the coolest thing I have ever seen in my life. I just can't stop staring at it, over and over the can gets crushed. I'm feeling dizzy, I, I, I....
Race pics up over at cyclingnew.com. Here Peter Van Petegem takes the finishing sprint at Kuurne-Bruxelles-Kuurne from Hans De Clercq and Jo Planckaert. Does this look fun? Want more? Go here and look at every fucking photo there. I did, and I thank fucking God I live where I do. I decided today that most of the people you meet just want someone to talk to them. Someone to at least act like they care. Is that too much to ask? It seems that for many of us that, yes it is too much. Too busy, too muck to do. I don't have the time right now. Get out of my way. Is that anyway to live? What was that Emerson guy all about? Living in the woods and dropping out of the race. Sounds like a good idea to me. In fact, it sounds better every day. I want to live in a bus and have my own little endless Mountain biking summer vibe going for a few years. OK, like that's going to happen. I had to restart my computer something like three times tonight. I want to throw it through the fucking wall half of the time. But, no computer = no website. And we don't want that now, do we? I need to find more porn for Kelly's apparently insatiable appetite for the low talents of girls like this and this. And this, this, this and this. Had enough yet Kelly? You little whore you. OK. You asked for it. How about some impossibly big boobs? You like that don't you Kelly? This outta keep you busy for hours. Just look at all those videos. Sticking (ha!) to the big tit theme that Kelly seems to enjoy so much, check these links out: Boobs Boobs Boobs Boobs And lets just finish this night off with some pics of a really hot chick:
Hot Chick Hot Chick Hot Chick Hot Chick
By the way, fuck Metallica. Assholes. Fucking bunch of pussies. They already have more money than God, what the fuck else do they want? Big tough mullet rockers made their living screaming at angry teenage boys about the evils of the world: government and money. Where are they now, huh? Maybe acting a little out of character? What happened to all that 'down by law' machismo bullshit they used to spout off? Stick it to the man, right? Well now, Metallica is the man. So fucking stick it to 'em. The pricks who ruined Napster. Way to build a legacy. I think this is my new favorite song. Play it loud and proud, motherfuckers. I have no idea what this guy is screaming about. One armed scissors? Who cares, it kick ass! If you likes the first one, your gonna fucking love this. All I can think about when I listen to that song is railing down some single track on a sunny day. Freshy pow pow sniggles (mountain talk for: my father made his money in oil and I'll never have to work. Like my dreads?) If anyone knows what At The Drivein album these songs are on, get at me or post it on the message board, or something. Just fucking tell me so I can get the whole thing. I think it's a self titled album, but I dunno. It's kinda hard to pick which ones of four thousand available downloads you want when every user lists files with a different title sequence. What's wrong with band/album/song? Working on a new wallpaper page. It probably won't be done tonight, and then there is the 56K upload blues thing to consider. Tomorrow, maybe. I just started saving all the dumb shit I used for wallpaper on my own computer, and now I'm gonna share. Put up a couple of new jokes today. Some are good, some are bad.
Tonight I made a mistake. I clicked what was supposed to be link to a panty hose page because I want to see some half naked chicks. I found this and my head exploded. After you recover from that nightmare, as I did after ten minutes of uncontrolled sobbing, take a look at this girl, Skyler. She's about as hot as you can get. Thanks to any and all Arizona reps that flow the goods our way. It helps keep the dream alive. Only you can prevent forest fires. Rock over London, rock on Chicago. Pontiac: we build excitement.
I just ran the site through the pornolizer. Holy shit is that ever funny. Herbolds new name is "jar jar". I'm not sure what "The shaging squirts a titty fucking shaging stud." means, but its fun to say. Today Heath asks the question: "How about a HEATH fucking rules page!!!". Fuck it. We like to bust balls around here pal!
Check out the finishing sprint of Nathan Mitchell at Valley of the Sun a few weeks back. That's the Cat 3 field spread out across the road. Mark my words, you will hear about this kid. He's like, 16 years old. And fast, real fast. I bought and ate about three freakin boxes of girlscout cookies this week. Fucking rad little coolies that they are. I'm pretty much pissed that they don't deliver door to door anymore. All it takes is one sicko to molest some poor girl in Mesa, or Toledo, and no more door to door cookie sales for the girlscouts of America. It pisses me the fuck off. That's the impact of crime for ya. I'd like to get my hands on one of those dumb ass molesters about the time I polish off that box of thin mints I'm hiding (from Ang) in the freezer. They way things are going around here for my fat ass, that moment will be in about twelve minutes. Then, its molester beware hour. God Damn, I would beat one of those guys to death with a shovel for a lifetime supply of thin mints. Or the playful samoas. I love girlscout cookies.
And the gif right below, oh the gif. I don't know where it's from, but I fucking love it.
Got these two pic of some little gutter snipe today. Wow. She makes me feel old.
Here's Diamond Daves report on this weekends road race, the Northend Classic. It's so fucking choice, I'm just gonna run the whole thing as is. Congratulations to Dave Herbold, Brian Forbes, Greg Kilroy, Nathan Mitchell and Big Gay Randy Mason. You guys all kicked ass.
However, the races went well in all. Nope, we didn't win and I'm sure
Domenic will tell us how we should have raced to win (sit on the break
and do no work, then sprint for the finish). But, here's the real world
lo-down for you and your porn-fiends.
Street Sprints, what a lame assed thing to have. A 75 yard run, 8
lanes wide and from a dead stop. Who trains for this shit? I seemed
to have the best jump out of the SRC boys and wanted to give it a go.
Jonas Carney came out with his full-on track bike to try and clean-up.
What a punk. I suppose I could have DQ'd him for only have a front brake
but, whatever. He's got a sweet mullet. I think that's why I let him
slide. Both Brian and Ophir (say Oh! Fear!) had a little trouble with
the dead stop sprint until they got their gearing right. I did it in
a 53-25, B.F. was in a 53-23 and Ophir had to run a 39-19. He's a whopping
140 lbs at almost 6 foot so he's no real power monger. Spinning was
his game. When the semi-final came I was able to smoke Jonas due to
a great jump out of the blocks and Brian made it in to the finals as
well, however Ophir missed out by one place. In the final sprint which
happened at about 10 pm, Randy "I! like to puke on people" Mason fucking
flew out of the blocks in first, I was on the lag wagon and had a slo-mo
jump. Brian was there as well. In the end the Mulleted maniac Jonas
managed to get by Randy for first, I got 4th and big Bri missed out
on the money by one, getting 6th. Aint that a bitch. Although a lame
idea I took the 4th place payout with a smile!
Now for the road race, that was a mother fucker. I don't think the
winds played as much of a role this year compared to last but they were
still considerable. I think this course, flat as a pancake in the farm
country of a town called Welton, is the closest AZ can come to a Euro
style spring classic. Rough pavement, Boringly flat, tough winds and
it's all about the breaks. Come up to the cross winds and you better
be on the front. So, we watched attacks go and come back, chased a few
in hopes of sticking it but to no avail. After what seemed like fifty
attacks from the pack, both bri and I managed to get into the decisive,
16 rider break that would stay away. Lingering at about a minute and
a half for the remaining 2 of 3 33 mile laps, the break housed the strongest
riders; Trent Klasna, who just got back from the Malasia tour, the ever
present Price (dickhead) and some boys from Cali. The winning break
of four from t! he initial 16 happened toward the end of the last lap,
with about 7-10 mile left. Let me tell you. That Trent Klasna is a fast
mo-fo. He, Price and some other guys I didn't know stayed out on that
attack while Bri and I had to deal with a bunch of reluctant bitches
in the remaining lead group. About 8 were left in our group. Nothing
could be formed to chase the 4 man break so Bri and I settled for the
obvious; a sprint in our group for the meager 5th place winnings. What
happened in the end seems to be the hard luck story of big Bri more
often than not. He got 6th. One out of the money. Aint that a bitch.
I don't know what happened to me. Even though it was a hundred miles
of constant work and attacks, I came into the finish with absolutely
no sprint in me. I jumped too early and the instant I did my legs went
into failure. I didn't check the results but I think I got 12th. Lame
results but a great race. Both Brian and I would rather be in a break
making our opportunity than leave a peleton to decide.
Lastly, the crit. The BIG money event of the weekend. 102 riders,
90 minutes. Ouch! What a kick ass course though. Nine turns, a slight
rise and 6000 dollars paying 20 deep. I gots to gets mine yo! I clocked
a max speed of 46mph and collected 3 primes and a 13th place pay-out.
I almost have rent paid! A Nine rider break happened half way through
the race that managed to lap the field. Of course, Bri, Ophir and I
missed it due to what? Too many fucking attacks! I wish some gubba people
would realize that 3 riders, no matter how strong, cannot control a
peleton of 102. That's the reality of it. I actually had a chance to
get in that break but I was blown from chasing and when I tried to go
with Klasne as he bridged up, he rode me clean off his wheel. Once again,
the reality of racing. So came the primes, which B Forbes also got a
few, and the final sprint. The break of nine, catching the field, went
right through it and led ! out a speedy finish lap. In the finish I
actually got 7th or so, which I'm stoked on, but 13 is the placing.
B Forbes got 19th.
In all, good racing. Ophir, Forbes and I rode strong as all hell.
Just no luck. Consequently, Forbesy got confirmation that he will be
going to Redlands and also got the digits of a hot porno style blond
the last day after the crit. But that's another story that you will
have to get from him. And in the end I think that I have had my fill
of the fucking waste land known as Yuma till next March. That is one big race report. You just can't compete with that. Sticking to the format, here is Snakes report on his race.
From: Jake Rubelt As of right now, 9:00 pm on Monday, there is no result page update for the pro's over at the Hedgehog Hustle site. So, Snakes report is all we have to go on here at the busy, busy, busy drunkcyclist.com news room. It's enough for me, and I hope it's enough for you too. I'm now listed as an "NC-17" site over at lameking. Fucking right on! That kicks ass. And check this shit out. Van Petegem wins Kuurne-Bruxelles-Kuurne in a Mercury uniform. That, hands down, is the biggest win that team has ever had. Sure, they had domestic victories and some other shit, but these early season Belgium races are the hardest of the hard. You don't show up at these races with a suntan and a nice dye job on the hair. You show up with a big old can of whoop ass and a lunch, because it's going to be a long day in hell. I just cannot believe the Ang loves Heath page has gotten the attention that it has. We made it just to bust Heath's balls. Which, as it turns out need constant busting. I just looked at it for the first time in months, and man, does it ever suck. We need a new "bust Heaths balls" page around here. Hmmmm. Any ideas, get at me.
Huh? I really want to know. I went over and climbed South Mountain today. The ride over: scary. The ride up the hill: scary. The ride down the hill: scary. The ride home: scary. Not only does that park boast some of Arizona's worst pavement, but apparently if you're Mexican and enjoy drinking and driving, it is the place to be on a Sunday afternoon. I don't want to sound like some kind of racist bastard, but it really was packed with cars driven by, well, Mexicans. And, nobody was hiding their beer cans from me. In fact, most of these guys waved 'em at me and yelled. I don't know how I didn't get killed. Subject: its about time Hey, it's no problem at all. I'm just sharing what I'd be doing anyway. In Saturday's single speed extravaganza, the Ron Jeremy Special, the hedgehog hustle, Drunkcylist associates Kyle and Dru got 7th and 16th place, respectively. Nice work boys. I'm working on getting some more race results. Untill I have them, do want to see a road racing schedule for the state of Arizona? It's about all I have to offer.
I hope to have some results from this weekend's road and mountain bike racing later today, or tonight. I don't know what this girl is all about, but check this shit out:
Pics from the 24 Hours of the Old Pueblo race are here. God Damn I need to invest in a digital camera, this old school shit sucks. The scene of the crime looks peaceful enough by day. But, it's deceiving. Night was ruled by chaos. And this man, out team manager. This is our race compound. Nice, huh? Maybe you should take a closer look. This is me, rider number 265 immediatley after my last and fastest lap. One hour six minutes. I owe it all to these people. About two minutes later, I am surrounded by attentive team support personnel. Notice the fact that everyone is holding a can of beer. And, of course, there were donuts. Do I look as happy as a pig in shit, or what? This was not a staged shot, that's really me at the end of the race. One last shot of the drunkcyclist.com team. Coors light, cowboy hats and pit bulls. Fuckin' A right, buddy. Check out fucking "bong boy" in the back. Who is that guy? Looks like one angry ass hippy. I would have more exciting pics if it wasn't for the fucking pussies in the photo lab. Losers.
Mother Fucking Boise. I just can't get away from that place, man. Het Mother Fucking Volk. All the boys went off to Yuma this weekend. Good luck. First AMBA race this weekend. Single speed tomorrow. I'll post results when I get them. I got nothing else to say. .
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