I mean, god damn, what the fuck just happened?

A week in Iowa, that’s what. Amazing, simply amazing. I don’t even know where to start. Too much. It’s all a blur, one big messy blur. Every once in a while something jiggles loose in my brain and I remember something and start laughing. I think people are beginning to suspect I’m crazy.

I’m beginning to suspect they’re right.

I just rode 500 miles in 6 days, closed out bars four nights and was drunk as a skunk by noon three times. I can’t see straight, my legs are rock solid and I can’t stop drinking. It’s like some sick training camp for alcoholism. I can probably ride tempo all day on nothing but bar-b-qued porkchops and Budwieser. I’m ready for the big leagues.

I’ve got email up the ass, no place to live and no stinkin job. I tell ya, I’m happy as a pig in shit. In another day or so I should have figured out where I’m going to live in Tucson. Then, I’ll just be jobless. It works.

I’ve gotten a bunch of kick ass mail. I’ll see what I can dig out of the pile here in a minute. ‘Cause, as we all know, even a blind pig finds an acorn every once in a while.

Well, what do ya know? I can’t get this sum bitch computer online to save my fucking life. I just won’t connect. Sorry friends and neighbors, this’ll have to wait till tomorrow.

Friday, July 19, 2002

sydney moon   I   zdenka podkapova   I   lexy west

Well, fuckin’ A. I leave for Ragbrai in, shit, seven hours. My flight leaves at 9:12 am mother fuckers. I have to get up and go to the airport in less than 4 hours. It’s going to be fun. Maybe I'll just keep on drinking.

And yes, it is very late. Well past three in the morning. Oh, this is going to hurt.

I haven’t yet committed to taking my laptop with me. I know it must sound like a cop-out, but fuck man, can a brother get a table dance or what?

I might just need a break. From everything. Just ride my bike for awhile and drink a couple gallons of beer. You know what I mean? No email, no updates, no nothing. Ride, drink, sleep. As it should be.

Most of ya’ll know me well enough by now. I’ll be ignoring email and basically dropping off the face of the earth for the next week or so. It’s just what I do. Think of it as a little "jonny time".

Works for me.

Thank God for attentive fans. I was thinking of this kick ass site the other day, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was called. Well shit, it’s the fucking pantsman and you should go check it out. Fucking top drawer.

You want some parting shot email? Check this son of a bitch out.

From: pistol pete Subject: Hehehe So awhile back the Prez cruised by to say thanks for the good job. A perfect opportunity. He's walkin' along shakin' hands and lookin' for votes. He gets to me and everyone said later "Dood he was lookin' at you like I don't know what". I know what, it was envy. I live everyone’s secret wet dream. Hair past my shoulders. Sleep inna van, work like a dog half the year and hang in the tropics the other half. You know, freedom. So anyway, he cruises by. I'm ready for him. "Howdy Boy Wonder". I've reached deep down into the dampest regions of my Fruit of the Looms, you know, hand on nutsack. Rembrandt smile(quit smokin' awhile back),Pleased to meetcha Mr. Prez." .Once in a lifetime chance. My recommendation? Don't shake the Presidents hand unless you want to have my ballsweat on yours. I am a bad man.

So fuck it all man, I need to pass the fuck out. I’ve a plane to catch in the morning. See ya’ll at Ragbrai.

Tuesday, July 16, 2002

sunny leone   I   kiki daire   I   tera patrick

Check this out. Then check this email out.

From: AJ Subject: Ride for the Chedeshi-Rodeo fire victims In order to help the victims of the Chedeski-Rodeo fire we have organized a fund raiser ride 7/20/02. See the flyer below for more details. This ride has some climbing to it so be ready. If you can't ride at least send donations. All donations are going directly to the Heber / Overgaard victims in the form of vouchers [for gas, food, toiletries, etc]. Time for us to give something back to the community. I am doing it. See you there! Thanks. AJ Karapelou & Gregg Miranda Casino to Casino Bike Ride. To benefit the victims of the fire in the Heber / Overgaard area Date & Time: July 20th @6:00 a.m. Start Point: Ft. McDowell casino [Fountain Hills] Finish Point: Mazatzal casino in Payson Ride Details: Approx. 70 miles on Hwy 88 with about 5,500 ft of climbing Provided: By Mazatzal casino supplying water, snacks and $10 voucher for food! Donations: $100 minimum donation [if not bring what you can]. 100% of money, non-perishable foods, clothes and toys got directly to the families in the Heber / Overgaard area. Food, clothes and toys can be brought to the start of the ride. Cash or check donations [made payable to Salvation Army] can be mailed to: Strongfield / Trimco Attn: Gregg Miranda or Terry Branch 48 S Sycamore St. Mesa AZ 85202 Return Trip: There will be a minimum of 4 trucks for SAG support giving rides back unless you wish to ride back. What to Bring: Comfortable clothes for the lunch and ride back. SAG support has plenty of water and Gatorade. Bring extra [labeled] water bottles and energy bars. SAG support will drive in front of us for feed zones [on the hills].

That is a good idea, and this is not. Found that link on Paul Katcher. It scares me.

OK, somebody help me out here. I linked a site a while back where a guy was, among other things, comparing picking up chicks to playing cricket. Shit was hilarious. I can’t for the life of me remember what the site was. Anyone have an idea?

Now that Big Gay Randy and Charlie are down here to keep ‘ol Nic the Dick company, it’s like a fucking Cheech and Chong movie. I can’t even hang. I don’t smoke the evil, and I’m not lobotomized, so my ability to communicate with these people is greatly diminished. As in nonexistent.

I’m just a guy along for the ride.

Monday, July 15, 2002

gauge   I   krystal steel   I   zdenka

Holy shit, I bombed. I got 13 out of 16 on my first go ‘round. Anything less than a perfect score is totally unacceptable. Just think of the potential consequences of such a mistake. Huge. See how you do on the female or shemale quiz.

From: Eric Subject: It’s gotta be the French Hey Jonny, Hola from some East Tennessee single speeders! I checked out the girls of TDF site and low and behold, no American chicks! What the crap! The french have got to be behind that, you know they dont like us, we always win their race. We win wars too, but thats a different rant. grind on, Eric Southern Cycling Operations (Tennessee's BEST bike club1)

So, I got this new flask from my man Scottish Chris. He got it in Scotland of all places. Amazing I know. I engraved it, "Less Gears, More Beers" I felt it was appropriate.

This next letter is a big one. Don’t blame me, baby. I just post this shit.

From: cletus honeydew Subject: no subject Heh, i just read that message that jeff posted on the recent 24hours of adrenaline race in Massachusetts, and i gotta agree wholeheartedly with what he says. I grew up right next to where it took place, in a small town in western mass, but i've been living in tempe for three years. So when i heard that a 24 hour race was happening 2 miles from my mom's house, i just had to go, as i learned to mountainbike in az and have never actually ridden in the northeast. I'd get to combine a visit with the family and friends with a chance to impress them with my drooling and stumbling skills as i did my first 24hr solo race, on my singlespeed. Now my only other 24hr race was last years in old pueblo, which rockety rock rocked, so i was a bit surprised by the staggering $275!!!! entry fee for the solo in dalton, but i figured that it'd be that much better. After all, with that much more money, they must be just be shoveling the schwag onto the crowds, giving out massages, free food, doing SOMETHING with all of that cash. Well, i never did figure out where it all goes, but it certainly wasn't back to the riders. The first thing i saw when i showed up for a little wednesday one lap pre-race was the huge 18 wheeler, covered in logos and the big infamous and misleading "spirit of mountainbiking" slogan. I thought, well that's where some of my money went, to driving that big ugly thing all over the fucking continent, spewing black smoke and supporting a bunch of billionaire oil barons. Yay. Next i noticed the distinct difference between the mellow, laid back local crew who put on these wednesday night races all summer long. It's a mere 7 dollars to race, the whole registration took two minutes of pleasant chatting, and there's a group of cool local riders who do these every week and fight for the first place prize, a gallon of maple syrup made on site. How cool is that? This is in contrast to the 24hours of adrenaline guys, who are all in these cute logo-embroidered work shirts, driving around in these off-road golf cart thingys(more of my money, more gas, why aren't they on bikes???) and in general bustling about and acting too cool. So the course was fun and technical, and challengingly muddy and slimy, which i'd never experienced before, and i went home with new respect for the locals who all whooped my ass(the fastest lap was a blazing 40 min flat). When race day came i looked with disappointment through my goodie bag, a copy of mountain bike magazine, a small gatorade waterbottle and a t-shirt, that's it? For this i paid 275 bucks?? Oh well, i anticipated some lavish schwag giveaways and prepared to race. As i stood in the starting gate, preparing to do the big lemans start i was right in the line of fire of the big speakers blasting techno and the announcers gargantuan voice trying to get the crowd to "give it up for our sponsors, how about a big shout out for our sponsors?!!?" he kept trying to get a big response, and the crowd kept mostly ignoring him, who cares about giving it up for sponsors? Maybe if there was some actual sponsor goodies being tossed around yes, but all through the race he kept trying to get people to "give it up" for various sponsors without actually giving anything up to the crowds. Lame. Anyway one nice thing about the race, and the one big perk was all of the free gatorade, clif shots and clif bars handed out to racers, which helped me out when i could no longer eat solid food. I got fifth and qualified for the solo world championships, which cost 300 bux, ouch. Anyway, this is getting ridiculous, the message is, 24 hours of adrenaline seems to be more interested in making and keeping money than anything else, and they are annoying as hell to boot. As my friend shawn, who provided support during the wee hours said, "how many times do these idiots think i'll "give it up" in 24 hours, i have nothing left to give". Ride 24 hrs of old pueblo, they're way cheaper, more fun, way less annoying, they have hot tubs, hot showers, masseuses and fire jumping crazies.

Ah, yes. The 24 hours in the old Pueblo. Absolutely the tops. Best race in the world. Go next year. All of you. No more Valley of the Sun stage race, no more complaining about centerline violations and disqualification’s. Twenty-four hours of racing in the desert instead. Much better idea.

And, holy shit, would ya have a look at this. I think you can see a little bit of a bicycle in one of those pics. It’s cycling related. Sure it is. Sure.

Hey, do like to spank the monkey? I hit that fucker at 201 miles per hour. I’ve had loads of practice.

Fuck it, big gay randy is in town. Actually rode his bike down from Flagstaff. In July. Trooper.

We’re that much closer to Ragbrai.

Now that Big Gay Randy and Charlie are down here to keep ‘ol Nic the Dick company, it’s like a fucking Cheech and Chong movie. I can’t even hang. I don’t smoke the evil, and I’m not lobotomized, so my ability to communicate with these people is greatly diminished. As in nonexistent.

I’m just a guy along for the ride.

Sunday, July 14, 2002

zdenka   I   nikki and suzette   I   aria giovanni

Another day, another dollar. Another week, another ton of porn. I may be going to hell in a bucket, but at least I’m enjoying the ride.

Fuck. Vlade is done, the Gnome is going to Ohio or some shit, and I’m going to Ragbrai. You tryin’ to put a black eye in the gang? Huh?

Hey, ya think you’ve got your hands around things and then this shows up in the mail. I mean, fuck. Can life get better.

From: Eastonwest Subject: ragbrai: did you know? hey, big jonny-- rumor has it you are coming on the rag again this year. i understand that this will be your second ragby, and you are more than welcome, of course. but DID YOU KNOW that there is something special about this year's ragby (as there always is)? this rabgy is ragbrai xxx, or, as we have officially deemed it, PORNBRAI. costumes depicting the role pornbrai plays in our lives will be appropriate, and this is certain to be a smash follow-up to last year's super hero day, when yours truly donned his now legendary "lipstickman" garb (and in so doing transformed ragbrai, making it much more colorful, and moister, too). just thought you'd like to know...

Jesus Fucking Christ man! Nobody told me this was fucking pornbrai! Fuck me running, it’s like I was born for this shit.

Could this be the event of my dreams?

I remember you from last year. I thought your costume was the tops. Especially the whole interactive aspect. Good looking out.

I can’t wait to see what you show up with this year.

At the risk of sounding gay, fire fighters are heroes.

From: Pistol Pete Subject: Open Fought fire all fuckin' day. Stained the t shirt white from salt loss. At least they're relatively small ones lately. The Apache Sitgreaves forests will be opening again, due to recent rain. Thank the Gods for small miracles. And the bike you rode in on!

I’ve been thinking of making a what big jonny uses page. Since I’m way to fucking drunk to pull that one off, I’ll just write it here.

I ride a litespeed road bike, a steel kona single speed, wheels by mavic, ringle, rolf and bontrager, I use extran, hammer gel and sustained energy. I wear bell helmets, diadora shoes and a lot of apparel. But I don’t wear pearl, not anymore.

I can’t think of anything else right now. But then again, I’m drunk.

This comes to mind. You know how some sites have a top 5 referrers of the week, or some shit like that? Well, I’d like to do that with this site. But you know what? I don’t have any referrers. None. Nunca. Nada.

Of the top 30 referrers I can track each day, week and month, no websites ever show up on. It’s just me. Direct request, mother fucker. No body worth is linking me with any traffic worth a damn.

So, no top 5 this week. But, you can check out this. I’m drinking Glenmorangie, 10 year. Damn good stuff. I was gonna fill my new flask with it for Ragbrai, but I don’t think it’ll make it through this week. I’m already down to the bottom of the label.

And then there is this shit. I move away from that stinking shithole and this happens. Fuck me.

Wanna see a bunch of cartoons of cycling greats? Click here. My fave? This one.

When all else fails, there is always reader mail.

From: Mr. Hanky Subject: hidee ho! Hey Big Jonny! Howdyyyy Ho! Gee, it's been a while since I wrote you last. Everything has been just swell! Like flowers. You sound like you've been traveling around a bit. Golly! That's sure neat. Anyhow, I thought I'd just refresh those folks out there who the next up and coming American Pro XC rider is... Carl Decker out of Oregon. I hyped him up a while back when he throttled us geared riders with his 16 lb. Ti singlespeed back in May. Well, he's at it again. Second best American at Grouse Mtn. World Cup last weekend, but shee-it, still like 15 minutes back. I think he's ranked #2 right now in the Norba Nat's series too. Good stuff. Someone needs to hook that kid up with some real sponsorship! I just wanted to add that I took your suggestion from a while back and tried Athlete Octane (hooked up Big Jonny with some bonus perks). I'll have to say that I too am noticing dramatic improvements with my racing this season. I am currently the top expert racer in Oregon, and feeling like there's lot's more to come. If anyone else out there wants to give it a shot, I highly recommend it! If you do order, how 'bout dropping my name, "Mr. Hanky" as the referring fellow? That'd be swell and help me out a bunch! Well, I must be going. Y'all have a great day, and keep on smelling those flowers! Oh yeah, take some time to pedal your bikes, in between staring at silicone boobies too.

Richard sends this one in and says, dirty girls oh yeah baby. Click here.

From: dru Subject: dude Wow, Dekker is such a stud! I have always been a fan but today he realy showed what a team player he is and how to fucking hold on and then put the hurt down. He reminded me a bit of the Snake, but enough ass kissing. Well, now I atleast have time to watch the tour & ride my bike. Aint life a bitch, but it is all for the best. I appreciate the love from the old team, but now it's time for me to find a new one. Anybody out there looking? Ragbrai starts for us on Friday! beer drinking, ass pounding, fun with the family!! God Damn, Let's fuck'n get. Rubber side down my brother!

Fuck it, good night.

Saturday, July 13, 2002

cheyenne   I   jesse cappeli   I   gina lynn

What next? People to see, places to go. Fuck me I’m burning a lot of daylight this year. Gotta get out there man, gotta go see it.

Another in a long list had passed through the hallowed halls of Domenic’s Cycling Imports. Yes, it’s true. Dru had moved on. As any reptile worth it’s weight in salt, Domenic’s sheds her skin every couple of years. When it’s time baby, it’s time.

He joins a rather prestigious alumni. I’m sure he’ll be met with open arms.

As one who has made The Salt Mine, as I like to call it, a revolving door of employment, let me be the first to welcome Dru to our ranks. Step right up to the bar my man, the first rounds on me.

It’s only 8:30 and I’m loaded. Fuck it.

Thursday, July 11, 2002

sydney moon   I   taylor st. claire   I   jenna jameson

It never ceases to amaze me the quality things I come up with when I’m out riding a bike or schlepping away at the bike shop. The things I always forget completely and totally by the time I get in front of a computer. Then my brain is one big blank and I no longer know my ass from my elbow.

Now there are some that would argue that I never, under any circumstances know the difference between my ass and my elbow. But I like to give myself the benefit of the doubt on matters such as these.

I’ve decided a few things at the shop this week. Things about me and my life. Where I’m at these days, along those lines.

I’ve decided I never want to bleed another set of disc brakes for as long as I live. I never want to overhaul another suspension fork. I never want to install another ergo brain or flight deck or any other overly complicated, ridiculous computer/cadence/idiot shift light combo pack ever again.

I never want to deal with a warranty on a wheel, frame, tire, handlebar, any fucking thing again. You bought it, you broke it, you deal with it. Full stop.

Glad I got that off my chest. This site fucking rules. Bikes and boobs are two of my three favorite things you know.

Um, one billy badass motherfucker named Rik Verbrugghe is out of the Tour. He hurt his shoulder in one of those all to common first week mass pile ups. I’m bummed, ‘cause I like the guy and wanted to see him ride well.

Email, great big fucking piles of email. God bless us all.

From: Todd Subject: Soul Ride - 100 miler Big Jonny, Hey what up man! Thought I'd bring it to your attention, Epic Rides is organizing yet another great mountain bike race. This one's a little different and doesn't require the hoola hoops the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo needs so the timing and results should be much simpler and quicker. We're talking a 100 miles of pure love'n. We just revamped our website and it has plenty of information. The gist for all intent and purposes, multiple mileage format; 100, 60, 30. Choose the distance that’s best suited for your riding level. Located in Oracle, AZ; just a few miles north of the 24 Hour venue. All finishers receive a hand crafted trophy created by artist whom live in Oracle. Course is still in the works (land closures got me down, rightfully so) but tentatively it will climb the back side of Mt. Lemmon for a while then bomb back down and head north to the Gulieros (mountain range to the north), then bomb back down through San Manuel and Mammoth (small mining communities out in nowhere) then return to Oracle. Also partnered with the Oracle Calabazas festival...blue grass, grass grass, and beer for everyone. All around family event. Disclaimer: The event is scheduled for October 13, 2002. Same date as a couple other great national events (Moab & World Single Speed Championships), however when playing the politics on the local front...a mans gotta do what a mans gotta do...so that’s what I did.

You have it on my authority that Todd is a player. Whatever authority I have anyway. The Epic Ride folks do a kick ass job. The put on some of the best races I’ve ever done. You can check out the website by just clicking here.

From: Martin Subject: slammers or slappers For all you vodka lovers out there and piss heads who will try anything once, try this......... For your next party: The best and cheapest shot in the world is one which I have recently discovered - its lethal, but tastes yummy. Here's the recipe: 1 bottle vodka 6 packets of skittles 1. Open the bottle of vodka 2. Empty out about 3-4 shots of the vodka into a smaller empty bottle 3. Open the first packet of skittles 4. Remove Green Skittles 5. Add all other skittles to the vodka bottle 6. Repeat steps 3-5 for other 5 packets of skittles 7. Add all the green skittles to the vodka which was initially removed 8. Leave over night (not in fridge) 9. Wake up and put bottles in fridge 10. Remove bottles from fridge that night - note skittles have completely dissolved - and PARTY! Result : One bottle of sweet sweet red vodka, which goes down smooth as summer fruit kia ora (which is what it has been compared to) but is as lethal as they come (because to all intensive purposes it is straight vodka and also because its full of sugar). Also one bottle of green, which tastes quite Lime-y. Obvious question : why remove the greens? - If you don't you end up with a brown drink which looks mingin' and no-one will drink it.

Thanks for that one, but I’ll just stick to this ten year old bottle of Glenmorangie good ‘ol Scottish brought me back from across the pond. It’s a single malt, don’t cha know.

Go check out prolinx. Good site, I like it.

From: Jeff Subject: "The Spirit of Mountain Biking" So a crew of us head up to the 24 Hours of Adrenaline race in Mass. Last weekend. Christ, that shit is everything the sport of mountain biking shouldn't be. Those bastards have a giant tractor trailer rig with "The Spirit of Mountain Biking" on the side of it. Put it this way, that event was like a god damn survivor game show! Me and my buddies went up with the idea of racing and just having fun. We had a cooler full of beers, a good selection of tunes and a few cases of expired power bars from the mennonite store here in Lancaster, PA. We got up there and the place seemed pretty cool. There were tons of people there that were just hanging out at their tents and having a good time. We went for a little cruise and the course seemed decent. It was nice and technical which seems to be hard to find these days. Anyway, the race started out well with all of us riding pretty fast laps. As night started to roll in, we're starting to get really fucking tired of the techno they're playing. Well that crap went on and on and the music just got closer and closer to hell until the friggin' Canadians who promote this crap decided it was high time for some musical chairs at 1 am while everyone's trying to sleep. Those ass holes played that crap for like an hour and a half till some neighbor complained. By the time morning rolled around, we found ourselves in second place and stayed there till the race was over. Well the four of us all payed $140 bucks a piece to do this thing so we were like, "shit, maybe we'll get a little cash for this thing since out team paid $560 to do this thing!". I guess we should have read the flyer.. If there was one, but that wasn't the case. For the 4 person teams, 3rd got a pair of tires, 2nd got a fucking camelback and 1st got a jersey that was almost worth of Goodwill. All this shit was donated by sponsors too! Yeah, the spirit of mountain biking my ass! That's the spirit of "the man" getting his grubby god damn paws on the sport of mountain biking! Don't get me wrong, I don't race for the $ but a friggin' $30 dollar camelback for 2nd in a 24 hour race with hundreds of crackers doing it ain't cool. The funny thing was after the race they were like, "ok, we forgot your medals in Canada, here's your lame prize, we'll send the medals to your team captains, now get the hell out so we can clean up". Anyway, F that! I think it's time to break out the wife beater and the old school helmet and just ride. I'm throwing in the towel on this "corporate race" shit. Oh, those dudes had photographers there from Sports Illustrated to promote that stuff too. I bet a case of Pabst that we don't get our picture in that mag with our wigs on and our beers on the podium!

Wifebeaters, podium and beers, now you’re talking my language. Fuck it, just ride. But, getting second place while getting loaded ain’t nothing to complain about. Damn fine work.

From: rodcarp Subject: No Subject get more pics then just Jenna.yeah she's awsome but we need more professionals.And you video's suck get more.

Um, yeah. How’s this for a start?

Wednesday, July 10, 2002

tour at cyclingnews   I   um, duh   I   lesbians

Back at Scottish Chris’s house, back on the floor. Life is at it’s best I think when one lives as a gypsy. Wherever I lay my head is home. El Vagabondo.

Hey, it’s working out so far.

I haven’t managed an update in a few days, sorry about that. It’s just the whole waking up at 5:30, riding for two hours, working for ten and then getting drunk off my ass as soon as 7:00 pm rolls around. Hell, I’m so drunk right now I can barely type. It’s a gift, really.

Nick and I just set up ‘ol Scottish on a road bike. Yeah, Nick the Dick has a generous side. A very big generous side. He’s a fucking angel.

Fuck it. I’ve been trying to get through all this email. I don’t want to become one of those high and mighty webmaster guys who doesn’t answer email and that sort of thing. So, I’m working away at it a little bit at a time. Chip, chip, chip.

In one more week I leave for Ragbria. I literally cannot wait. It is the best time I have ever had on two wheels.

This year it’s Dru, Nick the Dick, Big Gay Randy and myself. It’s a crew all right, a real ripe bunch. Like my man Scottish Chris likes to tell me, are ya taking a piss? Are ya extracting the Michael. I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about half the time, but he’s a good guy anyway.

The bar is set quite high, as Spanky was in jail the first night last year. This is a feat I don’t really see how we can improve upon. One of us would have to pretty much get in a whole lot of trouble on the flight to Chicago this year. Maybe I can coax Dru into some full frontal nudity? He’s into that sort of thing.

I haven’t talked much about the Tour yet. Not because it’s not a great race, but because I’ve been so damn busy that I haven’t been able to watch it much. But I can read about it online over at cyclingnews.com. They are the best thing going.

And you think you got it bad? Yeah, you think you got it bad. You ain’t seen shit. I was told via email today something like this: "Meanwhile, on a completely unrelated topic, I went out for a 90-minute cyclo-cross today and felt like a used tampoon circling the bowl in a gas-station shitter."

Now that’s having it bad.

Monday, July 8, 2002

lita   I   keri   I   aria giovanni

God Bless America. I just drove a good bit of highway, from Boulder to Flagstaff. I’ve been sitting here at Snake and Benseys for an hour and a half and I still feel like I’m moving. Too much time in the car and too much caffeine.

I’m pretty much stoked on this country today. Way USA. Sure, we killed a bunch of sorry bastards in Afghanistan the other week. And sure, most of our big corporations creative accounting practices are being uncovered. All that stuff sucks ass.

But I was just out there with the regular people today, just out there experiencing it. I say mountains, I saw plains. I saw thunder and I saw rain. I saw antelope, tumbleweeds and even a buffalo. And it was good.

Mile after mile of pavement, gas stations, rest stops and coffee shops. Get out there and meet some folks. Say hi to people. I’m just warming up for Ragbrai.

Snake tells me the name to know is Tom Danielson. A real name for the future. Best climber in the country apparently. They say he’ll be in Europe next year. I guess he opened up a can of whoop ass last weekend in New Mexico.

I am so excited to back to work tomorrow. I can’t wait. I’d go even if they didn’t pay me.

The best part is I don’t know where I’ll be sleeping tomorrow night. Maybe I’ll be in a bike box down by the river.

I’ve just spent the last week in an apartment with no phone line, bumming an internet connection where I could. Now I’ve come home to a metric assload of email. I’ll get to it. Maybe, like, tomorrow.

Oh well, sometimes I write good updates. And sometimes I don’t. I think tonight is one of those nights. Good night.

Saturday, July 6, 2002

shay   I   april summers   I   zdenka

I told my wife some guy put the wood to me as I was climbing Flagstaff Mountain (or something like that) and she said, what the hell does that mean? Did he hit you with a golf club? Did he hit you with his penis?

Ah, no honey. Lets just forget it.

I’ve about has it with Boulder. It’s time to head back to Arizona and some sense of normalcy. Maybe a couple of cocktails while I sit around.

More freaky little clown statues, great. Will keeps unpacking, and the scary shit just keeps on coming. Little annoying knickknacks, the type usually associated with a 40 something year old Midwestern housewives kitchen shelves. Right next to the photos of her kids little league and soccer teams before the teenage years, cocaine, sex, alcohol and the unbridgeable rifts that form between a parent and son. Well, there is always the knickknacks to attend to.

Good thing for these big ass gin and tonics. It helps take the edge off Wills endless parade of nightmare belongings. Where does he get this shit? Why does he keep it? Fuck me, it’s the worst I’ve ever seen.

He just pulled out the "gay pillow book" and asked the other Will if he wanted to keep it. Swear to God.

Yeah, there is two Wills. One guy named Will and his boyfriend also named Will. Confusing to say the least. Say, hey Will and they both turn around. Maybe I’ll start calling one of them Bob and the other one Neal. It seems fitting.

Look at all of this stuff he’s unpacking. I cannot believe one person could accumulate this much worthless garbage in a lifetime. And this guys only 26 years old.

Imagine what he’ll do with the rest of his years. He’ll have it all.

The things a gay man surround himself with is something I’ll never comprehend. The odd furniture, tables, sofa and chairs, fishtank and shelves. To a straight guy, this is all just too much wasted effort. This is what it feels like to shop with my wife, hopeless and lost.

He just pulled a ceramic rendition of a lighthouse perched on a windswept rock from the recesses of all this packing material. There is even a wave crashing against the rocks for dramatic effect. And an inscription about "guide me through…" something or the other.

It may well be the single most ugliest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. Back to the massive gin and tonic. Oh, sing through me, oh Goddess, the anger of Achilles.

And then some.

Friday, July 5, 2002

alexus   I   cherie   I   susana

I put up a new flash intro page. I hope it works, and ya’ll like it. I know I do. If you skipped it by coming straight to this page, you can click here to check it out.

Boulder, the land time forgot.

They say this place is the land of beautiful people. Yeah right. Bunch of fat ass lobotomized hippie scumbags is all I’ve seen.

Can ya feel the love? Best looking guys I’ve seen in this town are my brother in law and his boyfriend. Talk about a tight pair of asses. Like a fucking drum.

And to think, I’m shacking up with a couple of gay guys and I’m the one cutting the shit outta his legs shaving in the shower. They think I’m nuts.

Drove around in the mountains with my wife on the peak to peak highway. We got near Breckenrigde and decided to ride our bikes for maybe an hour. I was feeling pretty fucking lazy. Hey man, it’s Friday.

She put the wood to me. I tell her I want to go slow. Next thing I know I’m behind her and she’s going twenty one miles and hour. Sweet Christ baby, I know we’ve got a tail wind and all, but take it easy on me. I actually started to get gapped on a climb.

I’ve never been so proud.

We went into town and had Denny’s quality food at 20 bucks a plate prices. Fucking unreal. Shit was lame, man, just fucking lame. Nothing like food that’s cold in the middle. Classy, huh? Screw it, I still tipped good. Can’t blame the waitress if the cook sucks ass can I?

Oh yeah, and I’m really not even close to answering all your emails. I’m working on it folks, it just takes me a lot of time, and beer. Both are in short supply tonight.

From: Geefer Subject: Mr. Snake in NM Jonny, We have spotted The Snake in New Mexico. He came, he attacked, he climbed, he attacked, and still after 75 miles, he attacked! He was quite impressive. But here in New Mexico, the land of Bart Bowen, the field sizes are small but the talent pool is very large. Fear not! He has 2 more days for redemption and perhaps...... vengeance?!?

Yeah baby, give ‘em hell Snake.

Thursday, July 4, 2002

lexy   I   kyrstal   I   veronica

God damn, back online at last. I’m turning into a fucking internet crack addict. It’s sick really, damn shame. On the fourth of July no less.

Hope ya’ll are having a good one. Me? I won’t be seeing any fireworks for probably the first time in my whole life. It’s like Christmas without presents, Thanksgiving without turkey and my birthday without getting loaded.

Damn shame.

So today I figured I was up for a two hour ride with a good half hour of tempo climbing. Sounds real pro, doesn’t it? And I’m in the fucking mountains, for Christ’s sake, just look at those fuckers. They’re huge.

I rode up some road named something about a canyon and up another road something about sugar and loaf and pain. Big ass shits.

I am a fucking stud.

This links in from Danny, check it out. Chicago freeride. It’s a dot com dontcha know.

I may have already posted this link, but fuck it. It showed up in the mail and I’m running it. That’s what I do here. Weeeee. And while I’m at it, here are three more in from our friend in Holland, Laura.

Shit man, I’ve got 94 new emails to sort through and I’m outta beer. Jesus Christ who the fuck is stocking the fridge around here? It ain’t me I’ll tell ya that much. I guess I should put up or shut up. Time for fat boy to get to the store.

The Ragbrai training must continue. I’ve gotta warn you fellas, I’m feeling pretty damn good. Must be the alcohol talking.

Here is today’s joke.

Father O'Malley got up one fine spring day and walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside and noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn. He promptly called the local garda (a.k.a. "police station.")

The conversation went like this:
"Top o' the day to ye. This is Sgt. Flaherty. How might I help ye?"

"And the rest of the day te yerself.

This is Father O'Malley at St. Brigid's.

There's a jackass lying dead in me front lawn. "Would ye be after sending a couple o' yer lads to take care of the matter?"

Sgt. Flaherty considered himself to be quite a wit and the rest of the conversation proceeded:

"Well now father, it was always my impression that you people took care of last rites!"

There was dead silence on the line for a moment and then Father O'Malley replied:

"Aye, that's certainly true, but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin!"

Wednesday, July 3, 2002

I swear to God I'm going to shoot myself if I don't get online soon.

A nice little ride in Boulder. Well, I started there anyway. I went south. I went east. I started feeling it. I went west. I’m back. You get the idea. Big loop.

Four and a half hours later, I am definitely feeling it. Good times.

Isn’t Boulder great? You can’t even get a cup of coffee here without catching attitude. Let me share a little knowledge with ya. Don’t charge for refills of your house coffee. Not when you already stuck me for two bucks on the first go ‘round, and I fucking tipped. It just ain’t right. Un-American as hell. And so close to the fourth too. Cryin’ shame.

I don’t even want to know what the bar scene is like. I’ll bet it’s hell.

Went to dinner at one of those places you put your order number on the table so they can bring the food out to ya. No big deal, right? Sounds simple enough. Waiting Ang to get her soda, I see my buddy Will put his drink and number on a patio table. He comes back inside, says, hey we’re over there and I’ll be right back. Heads to the bathroom or something.

I’m looking outside on the patio and I see some hippie dreadlocked piece of shit pick up Will’s stuff and move it to another table. Hippy trash heap joker puts his own stuff on the table Will picked out.

Now, I don’t know one table from the other. And I’m just here to eat, but fuck this guy.

I walk outside. I put my drink and my number dealy on hippy boy’s table, and Ang picks up Will’s stuff and brings it over. Neither of us say a word, we just stare at hippy fuckstick. He’s like, "Uh, yah dood, like, weeeeeee, is this your stuff? Like that was my table…"

Yeah, move it shitbag. God damn, this town sucks.

I have it on good authority that this town has a topless joint, and a weekly bike ride starts right in front of it. Maybe I’ll wander over later and see what’s what. I only hope the girls there have smaller asses in that place than what I’ve seen of the rest of this towns populace. The rest of what I’ve seen is a little soft in the ass end, if ya know I’m saying. Maybe all the local talent went home for the summer months?

I’ve seen about two passable looking girls here. Both of them were in cars that cost more than I’ve earned in my entire life, chatting on their cell phones and wearing more makeup than Tami Fae Baker. Nice, I know. But, not that nice.

Maybe I’m being too hard on everyone. I mean, can everyone here be a schmuck?

No, of course not. I found a couple of real nice guys at one of the finest bicycle shops I’ve ever been in. It’s called Vecchio’s Biciletteria. Next time your in town, check it out. It’s on Pearl street.

I’m not sure what my favorite part about this shop is. The cool posters all over the walls, the old bikes, the sofas in the back. The can of Pabst Blue Ribbon on the counter at closing time. The fact that they have never sold an aluminum bike. It’s a long list to be sure.

Oh yeah, have a nice fourth of July everybody.

Tuesday, July 2, 2002

still not online, maybe tomorrow???

Ah, made it to Boulder in one piece. Simply amazing. Ten short hours in the car. All by myself, a little jonny time. I can just sit and listen to the voices in my head.

A shower, a Tecate and a glass of Bellvader. And I mean a glass. And I mean vodka, just the way I like it, damn near frozen. Bottle in the freezer covered with ice. Oh man, that’s livin’. Really helps take the edge off ten hours in the car. I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.

I'm at my brother in laws new place, right near Pearl Street. He really runs a tight ship over here. Booze and lots of it. You should see his new Jon Bonnet Ramsey painting. Sick ass shit. Her eyes are all glitter and her hair is flames. And in those flames, in full flamin' homo gear, are Paul Stanely and Gene Simmons. Yeah, I'm talking about KISS. Fucking really sick ass shit, man. I'm talking wrong. I don't know why I like it so much.

But, the one thing he does not have is a phone line. Not yet.

Great. Can't get online. That's when you know you're a junkie. Gotta have that fix.

Boulder is a weird place. I’m sure that if I actually tried to live here for any length of time I’d go postal on these wackos. But for now, I’m pretty overwhelmed with mountains, birds and trees.

Trees make shade, and shade is good. Shade? Fuck, this place is amazing. In certain places the sky is totally obscured by foliage. I’ve seen it, it actually exists.

You don’t get the same effect from a palm tree.

Although Phoenix does have it’s other perks, doesn’t it?

Monday, July 1, 2002

No links, I'm not online yet...

I get so many virus sent to me every day now. It’s unreal. I run anti-virus software all the time and check the whole system out each day. I hope to God it works.

Met an actual female fan in person riding back from South Mountain on Sunday morning. I couldn’t believe it. Usually when someone says, oh, you’re the guy from drunkcyclist, it means, oh you’re the dickhead with the webpage. But not this time. This girl thinks I’m "funny".

I could not be prouder. If only my Mom could share in my glory. But, I think the porn stuff might turn her off a bit.

I think this next letter can help us all.

From: chris Subject: In colorado? Hey man, been chekin your site out for a while. The porn attracted me but the cycling and hard hitting journalism keep me. Any way man, I used to live in denver, got out! Now im in Canon City. Anyhow check out the denver diner off of colfax and speer I believe. Get a meal called the mass confusion! It is the best fucking breakfast ever. Check it out, imagin biscuits and gravy, but before they put the gravy on, they lay down some badass scrabbled eggs on top of the biscuits, then they drop the gravy on top of that, after the gravy goes bacon! sounds crazy, and the only reason I tried it was because I was stoned. But I have had it many times, both sober and stoned and it rocks.

Right on brother. Come for the porn, stay for a few laughs. It’s a good time. I’ll see what I can do about checking out a big ‘ol plate of mass confusion. Stoned or not, it sounds like a good time to me.

I don’t know what this is all about, but check it out anyway. It’s the gorilla cartoons page. Good times.