Well, I'm going to do it to ya'll again. I won't be updating this thing for a few days. I've got to point the mighty Buick north and take care of business for a few days. It is one long ass drive I'll tell you that much. I figure I'll be updating late Monday, or maybe Tuesday.

I've got some more chicks on bikes type stuff. Laura from Holland keeps on bringing the goods. More linky linkies for ya'll.

teen-sluts-city.com/kri1/between.html
babesnhotties.com/tgp/hotties1259p.htm
youngliberty.com/members/2703/indexs4.html

Oh, you might get the high hard one over this shit. Then again, you might not. You decide for yourselves what the fuck I'm talking about. Click here to see the new XTR.

I think you'll like this next site. It's called wicked weasel and it's wall to wall girls in really small bikinis. Incredible is a word which comes to mind when viewing this page. I think Dru is really gonna like this. I think it might be hotter than full nude if the girl is wearing about 14 grams worth of cotten. Oh yeah.

Here is a down home Texas race report. Fuck n'A right baby.

From: Tex Tallous Subject: Here ya go BJ, Thanks for the kitty porn. I love seeing the shaved ass of a kitten. Excuse me..... I'm back. Dude, the video you posted is evil. I just can't watch that shit being a rider of cycles. It hurts, life hurts which brings me to the race report of Mexican Stage racing. After learning a new term of fast at Redlands, the snake and I drove to Mexico for another 5 days of racing. Rumored to be easy money, we drove down there expecting to rip the legs of some Mexican locals. Turns out all the big Mexican teams showed up like Tecos, Ocho Columnas, Mercurio/Citibank, Canal. Ok by us. We always want to race the best. Stage 1 TT 3days after redlands and the legs are OK We took 4th, 5th, and 8th. Maybe we should get some TT equipment. It sucks losing by 10sec or less. Stage 2 RR Mexican finishes are fast but not so fast that everyone is excluded like in Redlands. We fucked up and settled for a third, fifth, and ninth. Stage 3 Circuit We had a plan today to win. Plans rarely work and ours was no exception. I don't think any of us cracked the top ten. The sprint did reach 38.6mph and this is when everything started to go down. Mike and I were just staying with the pack with 50m to go since we were back in the 30s. Then some guy wanted 29th and sprinted in-between us taking my front wheel out from underneath me. Hitting the pavement at 35 burns. I just remember going down and seeing guys flying over me. I was lucky with only flesh wounds but two Mexicans went to the hospital with broken collarbones. I just laid in the middle of the road collecting myself. Official run over not to see if I was OK but to roll me over to collect my race number. This is the most painful road rash to date and my bike collected some wounds too. Stage 4 RR The big day. Our team is either sick or injured and have been sitting quiet till this stage. All bandaged up, I started. At 70km to go, two of us break away. We are rotating at 30+. After 5km, we are chased down. So we settle in, and Chad gets off again but flats--he's done for the day and this spoils our chances for team GC. ON the final climb, I couldn't believe the field split and only 10 of us survive. I felt pretty good on our chances with Snake sprinting well. Once again we settled for 4th, and 5th. Stage 5 90k Crit We finally got to chase down a break. I've always wanted to do this. A break got away about 1min up. We went to the front chased it down stringing out the field. Then we got Chad off the front with a group for him to take the win. In GC Snake 4th, me 6th. not bad and we made some Cash but only one stage win and we all came home with some loose stool. ===== Jason

Fucking insane as always. I'm glad to hear you're alive and all. Good thing you had lots of practice crashing the shit outta yourself while pissing earlier in the year. The experience really pays off when it's crunch time, doesn't it?

See you all in hell.

Friday, March 29, 2002

amber micheals   I   rocky roads   I   britney andrews

Today was a day much like any other. Except for the fact that I received a pay check. That in itself is a big deal around here. Believe me.

I had a couple of beers after work with a couple of guys. We talked about Ragbrai and hot chicks. Some things never change, do they?

Tomorrow I am going to a funeral. My sister lives here in Phoenix, and her father in law passed away this week. It's such a lame cliché to say I wish I could have known him better, but it's the damn truth. I didn't have a chance to spend too much time with the man, but I can tell you he was a good guy. It'll be a shitty day I'm sure, capped off with a "wake" at my sister's house. I can't imagine how much drinking will be going on there.

That's about it. Fuck Easter and fuck the Squealer. I'll be enjoying neither. At least I still have beer.

And then you have shit like this to scare the hell out of you .

Check out this site, it's straight out the dungeon or something. I like it, but I barley understand it.

From: response Subject: Guadalarajara DuDe, Fucking a'! You ever see one of them lizzards that puffs itsself up and intimidates its would be attackers?? I pulled one of those last night. The boy with the broken arm managed to scare a few thousand pounds of angry messicans into submission. maybe thats why they did so poorly in the mex american war?? I am lucky they had no idea what a big pussy I really am anyway I am so hung over that my hair hurts. we manged to blow about $600 american at a strip club. We got FUCKED and didn't even get off, just lap dances and a bottle or two of absolute. I miss the cheapies where a man can get a bj and a beer for less then 500 pesos ($60 american) but this was a "gentlemans club" complete with real cuban cigars, gentle lights and music and some of the best looking bitches in mex.. anyway, its beautiful here, about 90 and I am loving it!! These boys are serious about their bikes down here. they ride these baddass 28" straight bar single speeds. and fucking ridculously tall gear ratios. I was fortunate enough to ride one. It seems fashionable to ride a bike thats at least 5 or six inches too tall for the rider so at my height 6'1" most bikes were set up just right. My hat is off, these guys get some serious style point for their rides. I will try and take some pictures of these truely bitchen machines before I bail. Oh yeah, you send me another virus and I will pull my fucking lizzard act on you. response

I can only hope and prey the I don't send you any more virus's. I still love you baby, but God damn. I don't want any big headed lizzard action around these parts, especially if it involves me in any way.

More naked chicks on bikes care of Laura from Holland. Click here.

Thursday, March 28, 2002

susana   I   nikki nova   I   ashley

I've come to the conclusion that I have a problem. I have crossed the line from recreational coffee drinker to full blown addict. I don't know when it happened, but no one ever really does. You don't wake up one day a junky. It takes time to do this to yourself.

Look at me now. I can't get anything done without a good old hit off the crack pipe in the morning. It's a shame really. I could've done something with my life.

Now I have a porn site and spend my time looking for wallpapers like these. Check out all the girls on the drip down menu.

And while you're in a clicking mood, check this one. It's pure gonzo.

I haven't posted a video in a while. Mostly because they suck to upload and all the guys out there with dial ups have a hell of a time downloading them. But this one is worth it. It's unbelievable and it's a small file. Click here to see it.

From: Todd Wells Subject: You Fuck!!! Yo John, You fucking bastard. Thanks again for all the help at Redlands, I never could've done it w/ out ya "drop out of the race". In case you were wondering, I took all that shit back to Walmart and the chick thought my girlfriend was a bitch b/c she didn't like the matching pillow/comforter package. You millionaire website owners kill me. Have fun at the trailer park and see if you can get any of your neighbors to pose for shots on your site. Later You Fuck Todd Wells

I'm glad to see you unloaded all that shit you bought. I got my money back for my sleeping bag on the way out of town. After three days in it, I just couldn't see keeping it. The color just wasn't right for my whole trailer park theme thing I'm going with these days. Maybe I can find something more appropriate at a thrift store or something. Something with holes burned in it.

Yeah, I'm rollin' in fucking cash. Mr. Millionaire. Like today when I was riding around up here in the north valley and I saw a roll of electrical tape still in the shrink wrap. You know I stopped and picked it up. Who couldn't use a brand new roll of tape? Road scores will keep you going man. Now if I can just find a ten and a twenty on the side of the road tomorrow. That would be nice.

If anyone else thinks I lead some life of glamour, allow me to remind you I dug a fucking bee stinger out of the side of my penis last week. That's right, you heard me. When that little bastard stung me in Redlands, he left me a gift. It took some real quality time and a pair of tweezers to get that shit out.

You wanna know if it hurt? Hell yeah it hurt. It hurt bad.

I may not be fast, but I am a tough son of a bitch. Like this guy.

From: Heff Subject: Karma? What the fuck is that? Say it with me. Ants. Goddess heard me bragging about Karma, didn't she? What a fucking whore. I switch on my heater because of a sudden fucking cold snap and ants start pouring out of holes in the runner board, the wall, the carpet, out of the fucking plug sockets. They all say hi and traipse all over my stuff. This is Saturday morning. I go talk to halls dudes and say "I've got ants all over my shit and I need to work." They say : "Its the weekend, sorry. We'll send a guy round Monday" Monday morning a guy comes around at 7.00am [just to piss me off some more] to say he's fixing the ant problem. He hands me a can of raid and leaves. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? squirt it all over a plug socket because that's always fucking clever, right. So I spray it on a rag and wipe it round the socket . my room now reeks of bug killer and I cant sleep and shit. like I could sleep in a fucking roomful of ants anyway. fuckers. They all come pouring out the plug sockets to find out what the smell is. this time they have wings. they want to get a birds eye view of my room to find out where I keep my sugary treats, I think. I stagger out of bed this morning, Go to the shower. I'm brushing off bits of ants and slapping myself. I look in the shower and I can't take one. Why is this? Because someone has taken a shit in it. The smell registers in my nose and I manage to stagger into the gents to be sick. I finish throwing up and bike into Uni. 'Ton Bik' has started making some funny grindy squeaky noises. Worrying. I find my seminar has been moved to a room that doesn't exist. I check my lecture. also cancelled. I've come all this way for nothing. I cycle back, with the loud squeaky grindy noise [grit in the pedal, it turned out to be] to find a note under my door from halls management. I'm thinking great. they sending in an exterminator and someone to Caulk those holes up. No. they are charging everyone in the house $21 for the fact that someone shat in the downstairs shower. 232 dollars that comes to, over 11 people. I'm being fined for having a room full of bugs and someone taking a shit in my shower. What the fuck did I do, Rape babies in a previous life? Heff.

Staying with the incredibly entertaining email theme, check out this race report from our very own Spanky. The guys got skills.

From: Spanky Subject: McDowell SS race report Well, it all started Friday night, actually. I had to get all psyched for the race and I was out of beer and low on cash. So a friend and I went out to enjoy a little Sprint Car Dirt Track racing, cheap beer, trashy redneck women, methanol and carnage. What more could you ask for? Anyhow, back to the race report. So Dru and I show up sporting the new Dominic's colors (a little gay if you ask me). Usually I would have rather worn my wife beater, but it was pretty chilly at 8:45 and my nipples could already cut glass. Gun goes off and I take to the trail like a track star on coke - I jump out and stretch everyone out for a couple miles then settle into decent pace. There were 5 of us kind of close up front but Bounds was the only guy I was worried about. He was all over my wheel like flies on a $2 whore. Every time I'd jump, he'd jump. I was braking so far into corners it was screwing up his lines but it was the only way I could be sure to keep him behind me. Finally on the rocky section of the long loop I figured it was my chance to burn him. There was a group of 5 of us, and once I got to the top of the ridge line, I launched hard and spun my ass off. We dropped the other 3 guys right away, but I could not get that slut off my wheel. I towed him the rest of the way around the long loop, then the sport, but I was dreading the climb on the Tech loop. I know Jeremy's got a smaller gear than I do, so If I so much as loose traction, he's going to come by. We take the two drops leading up to the hill and I see a rider stalled out on that 90deg corner leading up to the climb. I don't know who he was but I'm sure I scared the hell out of him, screaming at the top of my lungs "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!!" in mid air off the second drop "SINGLE SPEED COMING THROUGH!" Needless to say he moved and I railed the corner and dropped the pain hammer. I put about a 10sec gap on Jeremy and just kept pushing it through the finish. Race entry $35, Coors Original $20, 1oz weed $80, having everyone suck your dust for an entire race ...Priceless. See ya in Sierra Vista... Spanky

Wednesday, March 27, 2002

april   I   lickin lesbian lovers   I   kelly

Alright, day one in RJ's pad. I haven't managed to burn the place down yet. God damn block construction. Maybe I can just torch the roof? That's gotta be worth something. Think of the effort involved.

I came home from riding today hungrier than shit. There is no fucking food in this house. Dude, RJ, what the fuck do you live on? All I can find is flour. You must have 17 different types of milled oats, rocks and twigs in here. Jesus Christ, a brother could fucking stave to death around here. No wonder you're a skinny little mother fucker. Maybe this is just what I need to shed those last few pounds. All twenty of them.

You should see the questionable collection of "hot dogs" in the back of the fridge. Things look like a quiver of dildos. I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole. OK, give me another week and I'll eat the whole thing.

Tonight's dinner selection: A can of ranch style beans with jalapenos. Hot, spicy and free. And a box of Arrowroot biscuits. They're imported, so you know they were tasty. All washed down with cool, clean water. Joy. Thanks RJ.

I've managed to turn on RJ's NASA fucking space station audio system. Fuck me that thing is a mother. I'm playing the Deftones CD. I'll either burn a copy or just steal the fucker by the weekend. It doesn't matter which.

Right to the fucking mail. It's all I have right now, sniff. Sob. Wimper.

From: 10 'o Hearts Subject: san remo and a new drug big jonny, what's the deal, man? you've updated once in the last two weeks, and I feel like a crack addict with the way I keep hoping you've been able to update. And I've got it bad. I'll check the site three or four times a day. I'll empty my temp and history folders, thinking maybe the computer is only downloading a cache version or something. I check it twice, consecutively, just hoping. I'll log off the net, shut down the computer, and start all over again. Like I said, you got me feelin like a crack addict. And this ties into zebra's on crack, or the appearance of the kit of Cipo's new team. what else can you say about the Acqua e Sapone outfits? And speaking of Cipo, this is his weekend. He's feelin it. He's 'en fuego'. He's going to....get dominated on the Poggio. Maybe next year. Speaking of recreation drug use, did you hear about "soy". no not the Spanish term for "I am", but that brown liquid you put on Chinese food. Apparently, it has demonstrated "potential to eliminate pain". I wonder how long it will be before Herrrrrrr Verbruggen decides that all soy products are banned. And as a result, a plethora of Chinese restaurants pop up all over Europe. then, when somebody fails the piss in a cup test, they can say, OH! it was the Chinese I had for dinner. (So what if it was administered intravenously?) Could you imagine? Cyclists busted for mainlining soy sauce. Man, is this a great sport or what? Big Jonny, look man, I don't have the funds right now, but just give us users a taste, huh? Just a little something to square me away for two or three days. Just one hit. Then I'll go straight. Honest.... Ten 'o' Hearts

Alright man, I'm back. Sorry about getting you all hooked and hit, but you know what they say. The first one is free kids.

And what the fuck is up with soy sauce? Isn't that shit just salt? That's about what it tastes like to me. Maybe I should start chugging it like a single malt scotch before my next race, er, beating. It couldn't hurt.

From: Heffster Subject: oh my gods A woman went to a pet shop and immediately spotted a large beautiful parrot. There was a sign on the cage that said $50.00. "Why so little," she asked the pet store owner. The owner looked at her and said, "Look, I should tell you first that this bird used to live in a house of prostitution, and sometimes it says some pretty vulgar stuff." The woman thought about this, but decided she had to have the bird anyway. She took it home and hung the bird's cage up in her living room and waited for it to say something. The bird looked around the room, then at her, and said,"New house, new madam." The woman was a bit shocked at the implication, but then thought "that's not so bad." When her two teenage daughters returned from school the bird saw them and said, "New house, new madam, new girls." The girls and the woman were a bit offended but then began to laugh about the situation. Moments later, the woman's husband, Keith, came home from work. The bird looked at him and said, "Hi Keith."

I don't know why, but this is the only thing that makes poor Pat smile anymore.

Oh yeah, have a happy easter.

From: Bill Subject: Why girls don't ride Paris - Roubaix Two French girls are riding their old rickety bikes down the road from Paris to Roubaix. One girl leans over to the other and says, "You know, I've never come this way before." The other girl says, "It's the cobblestones."

I haven't tried this before, but fuck it. I've got a metric assload of email and everyone either sent me a link or a virus. Or, in some cases, both. So, I'm going with a new plan here. Say it with me: Link Dump.

plattekill.com
koti.mbnet.fi/~soldier/towboat.htm
thehun.com
page3.com
purecommunications.net/nice
humanforsale.com
spotbikes.com
singlespeed.cc
geraldfield.com/cgi-bin/unofficial/quizzes/sfesurvey.cgi?whatmuppetareyou
pornokiosk.net/galleries/tb260102/index4.html
2.kinghost.com/fetish/buchsex/gal9940/gallery14.html
terra.es/personal6/divdim/best/home.html
cgi.ebay.com
i-mockery.com/visionary/sharingtheroad.asp
asile.org/citoyens/numero13/pentagone/erreurs_en.htm
ratemypoo.com
buttsacrossamerica.com
flashyourrack.com/flash.cgi?user=noprofft69
lunacytoons.com/titties.html
wedgiegirls.com
people.fas.harvard.edu/~pyang/flash/miniputt.swf

Fucking dig through the pile, you might find something you like. I figure everyone's gotta like at least one of 'em. Good luck out there people, lets keep it safe.

Tuesday, March 26, 2002

chrissy m   I   sylvia saint   I   amber

Well, this is it, the first new shit in a while. I'm back in Phoenix and lovin it. I am one stupid fucking bastard.

Ask anyone.

I finally got that fucking virus off my computer last night around midnight. I guess I could have banged out an update then and got it online, but I opted for sleeping. I know, I know, I am so selfish.

Let me tell you about trying to fix this virus thing. First I tried to download the update for my McAfee anti-virus software. This would be the same update I didn't download weeks ago when it would have saved me from this whole mess in the first place. But, did I do that? No, I am a dumbass.

I couldn't put my laptop online to get the download, because as soon as I did it would have started spewing out tons of emails all over the place. So I had to use RJ's. God bless him. On the website, they tell me that I can fit the "manual download" on a floppy. Uh huh.

Of course it doesn't fit on a fucking floppy. It's way to big for that. So, I try a zip disc. Good idea, right? But RJ's machine won't recognize the new drive. I have to install all the software. Good thing I brought all that shit on CDs.

I finally get the thing off one machine and on to the other and it won't work. What the fuck, did I download the wrong thing or something? I could have, I am a dumbass after all. So I go back and download all the shit again.

In the end I had to buy the new version of the software I already have to make it work. And work it did. Thank God.

Did I mention I'm back in the Salt Mine? What the hell was I thinking? Oh well, another day, another reason to drink.

And just because I fucking love you guys, I'll give you this. Huh? How about that? You fucking animals.

I changed the mp3 of the week finally. And, yes, I am aware that it is now a .wma file. Sorry, it's all I had at the moment. It's a good tune, so fuck it. If anyone feels like changing it into a mp3 for me, let me know. I also changed the Captain America link. Oh, it's a good one all right. I think you'll like it.

I'm not going to bullshit my way through a site of the week change. Not yet anyway. I've been offline for so long now (a week!) I haven't been checking into the sites I already like let alone had the time to check out anything new. I'll change it when I find some good shit for ya. The stuff that's there kicks ass anyway. Deal with it.

Man, am I grumpy tonight. Ugh. Kill me. It must be the two days of actually driving a car to, gasp, work. No trabajo aqui. Yeah, I can spell.

I just downloaded all my new mail. All 97 of them. I've only read three of them and already my new bad ass always on point anti virus software snagged a virus. Can you believe this shit???

Monday, March 25, 2002

alyssa alps   I   ava vincent   I   jenny fox

My brothers and sisters, I have sinned. I got month left at the end of the money, instead of money left at the end of month. I'm back at the Salt Mine.

That's right, I am now working at Domenic's again. Holy shit, I can't believe I'm even saying it.

I just feel dirty all over. Ho ho, he he, ha ha shoot me.

I have had a dirty penis fucked up computer for a whole fucking week now. It is beginning to really piss me the fuck off. I'm downloading some new shit tonight on R.J.'s computer. I hope this works.

I can't wait to see how much mail I have waiting for me. A hundred emails? Maybe more? Oh God, it's going to be a fucking shit storm.

Friday, March 22, 2002

shoot me please   I   lesbians   I   big red

Another day, another pointless update. How do I do it? Why do I do it? It's like bike racing. A fun waste of time.

At least we have beer in the fridge. Thank God for that.

From: mike Subject: possible link of interest for your website I've got this site. you'd probably like it. paul katcher sent me over to ya, and said you might be interested. ratemythong.com (there's more too) boy do we want girls to submit. anything you can help with would be appreciated. I've always had the attitude, if you like it, share it =) let me know! - mike

OK, I'll let you know. Um, yes, I love your site. I feel I can speak for any of the horny bastard cyclists that cruise this site when I say: Thongs rule.

Thank you. God Bless America.

I'll be out in Parker, Arizona this weekend getting my ass fucking handed to me I'm sure. Bike race = big pain. I can feel it already.

Thursday, March 21, 2002

sandy   I   teen   I   brunette

I know I haven't changed the sites and mp3 of the week, but you know what? I'm tired as hell and feel like shit this week. And I like truckers atlas. You should too. I hope I can pull out of this and not be all sick like that big tall freak Justin. I really don't want this to become the full on, blown out flu that's been going around. No bueno.

I think it may turn out to be allergies. I dunno. I'm fucking clocked sideways, I can tell you that friggin much. I've got this headache that just keeps on pounding away and my eyeballs feel like they are about to pop out of my head. Jesus, take me now.

But, my legs feel OK when I ride, so I don't know what's going on. But it takes a good hour for me to come around on the bike. Oh hell, fuck, shit, damn, piss.

Speaking of not knowing what's going on, it seems I might need to explain a few things. I spent the last week in California at a house with no phone line, so no updates and I didn't receive or reply to any email. Now I'm back in Tucson and the internet café I've grown way to dependent on has closed. So now I'm "borrowing" a phone line from one friend and "borrowing" some time on another friends AT&T dial up account. Ain't I just a lump of shit?

I'm lucky if I can get online every other day. Sometimes it's even longer. I guess some people have lives. Can you believe it? And I have to work around their schedules. Oh, it's unbearable.

The best part is somewhere along the way I've picked up a virus on my laptop. I don't know how I did it. I'm pretty selective on opening any attachments, but one got past the goalie somehow. I've run a few scans with two different anti virus programs and neither found anything. But, I'm sure the little bastard is in there somewhere, just waiting for me to plug this thing back online.

I swear to God, if I ever find someone who created one of these viruses, I'll take them out in the street and shoot them in the back of the head. Twice.

Since I can't find the virus with what I got, I need to get online and download an updated anti-virus program that is hip to all the new shit out there. I'm guessing that if I go online on someone else's machine I can download the updated .dat file, manual update, or whatever they call that shit and fix this mess. I hope so anyway.

If you recently sent me an email, I'll try to get back to you. I can receive new mail off the net on a borrowed computer, but not on mine. I do value what all you guys and girls sent me. I've already got 54 emails waiting in my outbox for this little virus problem to get sorted out. You'll hear from me, don't worry. I don't want to become one of those snobby webmasters that puts himself out of reach on some pedestal or some shit like that. It's just not me.

Oh, and if I sent you a virus laden dirty penis email, I apologize. My bad.

That's about it.

Wednesday, March 20, 2002

tabatha jordan   I   lesbians   I   nikki nova

I feel like shit. I think I may even be getting a cold. It seems the flu is going around, and I'm just lucky enough to catch it too. Ugh. Maybe its just allergies. I don't know.

I can tell you this much. I took a five hour nap today. If I can sleep that much in the middle of the afternoon, something just ain't right.

I don't even think I'll get this shit uploaded anytime soon.

I've been having a lot of email issues. Like, I can't seem to get my replies sent to where I need them. That, and as soon as I sent a few fuckers out, a virus popped up. God damn it.

I hate those fucking viruses. I'm running some scans, but I don't think my shit is up to date enough to catch everything. I'm going to download some new shit tonight, and when I do, this virus will probably sent out a million fucking emails. Great.

Tuesday, March 19, 2002

shayla   I   brianna banks   I   sanja matic

Another day, another ride. Oh, it's a life I guess. I don't know how I manage sometimes. Enjoy some reader mail. I know I do.

From: Si Heathcote Subject: Little Fuzzy Drugged flying fucking things. I have the Karma. I am the Karma. It flows through me like some serious spiritual shit. or, I'm a lucky Mofo. Another brush with death today. In fact, me and death have been getting so close lately I'm just waiting for him to call and ask me out for a drink, maybe a movie or something. I know he wants me, I'm just playing hard to get. you, on the other hand, have bee and cock experiences I could say its because you don't do enough amber michaels posts. but you just have. Dammit. So I don't think it's a Karma thing. Less beers when you ride might help. because bees fly in a sort of pissed up line, and if you've been at the beers, then essentially you're going straight for each other [you're getting the logic, right?] So what I reckon, is that you somehow get all the bees to sober up. How you do that I've no idea yet. maybe some GM flowers or something. Of course, my brain is running away with the idea of sober bees now. Would they go collect pollen? or would they become sullen, withdrawn individuals, Saying "you know what? Fuck this. The queen stays in the hive and I know I'm not going to get any fucking action before I die. And what's with this Sting? I get to sting something and then it rips half my body off. Wasps just go round jabbing their asses at whatever the fuck they like. How the fuck is that fair? they don't even have to make fucking honey!" Old worker bees sitting around outside, waiting for the beekeeper to get 'em all good n stoned with some of that smoke. "yeah man. Fucking A. I remember like, we got totally wasted with the smoke shit, and came inside, and there was like, half the fucking hive, just like, gone, you know? like, not there at all.." This is My brain off drugs *hehe* Heff

Let me just say this, my penis was not put on this planet to get stung by fucking bees.

And whatever it was I did in my past seven lives, I am truly fucking sorry for already. Christ. Yesterday the gnome and I are riding down some bike path by the river. So far so good, right? Gnome pulls a wall ride on the banked concrete supports as we go under a bridge. Looks pretty cool. There are a couple of pigeons down there. One takes off a little later than his friends.

You see where I'm going with this yet?

The pigeon flies straight towards me. I can't go right because it's a wall. And I can't go left because it's a metal fence that looks about as forgiving as a cheese grater. I can only go forward. Into the pigeon.

I dunk my head and the bird hits me straight in the top of the helmet. The poor bastard drops down between my arms and starts flapping like fucking all hell. He, or she I guess, can't figure out how to get out of the space between my thighs and my chest. And I'm not about to help, I've got bigger concerns, like not stacking it.

The whole episode takes a few seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. The bird finally figures out which way the daylight is and bails, leaving only feathers and memories behind. The gnome just about wrecks himself laughing like a hyena.

He starts in with, "You see, this is an example of the negative space created in a time trail position. You can clearly see how the bird cannot escape form the vacuum created with in the cup. You must close the cup…"

He went on like that for way to long.

From: Shawn Subject: you're web site's validity Hi, I know your site is a joke type of site, but you need to check for the validity of your articles that are attributed to certain people or all of your articles will be suspect. The article you claim George Carlin wrote was not written by him. georgecarlin.com/georgecarlin/home/home.html

Yeah man, I'm hearing you. I got a couple of letter to the same effect. Next time I just won't attribute anything to anyone. I'll just act like it's all mine. I can handle that.

WHY MEN ARE NOT SECRETARIES:

Husband's note on refrigerator to his wife:

"Someone from the Gyna College called. They said Pabst beer is normal."

Hoo boy, I can see by that last one that I've just got to get out of the trailer more often. Like maybe permanently. Big thanks to "big M" for loaning me her phone line, again, so I can update. It sure would be nice if our fine motor home had a phone, but fuck it. That shit costs money. And that we don't have.

Monday, March 18, 2002

gina ryder   I   tera patrick   I   devon

I am cooked. I can't begin to imagine what today would feel like if I had actually raced this weekend. The role of sole support staff guy was enough. I put in an hour on the bike this morning and I just don't know what else to do with myself.

Maybe some laundry? Errands? Jesus, something.

I don't know how I'm going to get all this shit online. I've got updates written up going back a week already. I can't wait to see how many emails I've got waiting. I'm sure it'll be a total nightmare.

Hard race, real hard. All the guys I know that were there, the guys I ride with were just getting fucking hammered. It's amazing to me. The guys I can't even ride without getting dropped, were getting dropped themselves left and right. Those poor bastards.

Sunday, March 17, 2002

devon   I   taylor   I   gina

Home today. Yee Haa. The glorious return to the trailer park. Home is where the heart is. Or is it where the Gnome is? Fuckin feels like that these days. Oh God, I'm turning gay. Shoot me. Please.

Drove home from Redlands with RJ and the Gnome. Fucking A am I tired. We had some fun on the drive. I had enough gas to get to some dump called Desert Center. At least I thought I did.

We start getting closer and RJ starts chiming in on how much cheaper gasoline is in Arizona. Just make it Blythe. You can make it to Blythe. Stop being a pussy. Fuck it, I'm going for Blythe.

Now the Gnome is joining in the fun. He can smell the fear on me. The low fuel light is illuminated. Danger Will Robinson. I'm convinced I've made a tremendous mistake. I'm going to be riding into town on a bicycle to get a can of gas. There is no way I'm going to make 25 more miles.

Gnome is in full ball busting mode. He's kicking the shit outta me. I'm such a pussy. I'm biting my nails. I'm sweating. I'm scared.

We can see the exit. Gnome is riding me hard. RJ is telling me to get some balls and go for Arizona. We're almost there he says. I blow by the exit and go for Arizona.

The Gnome can't believe it. Neither can I. We are so low on gas I can't fucking stand it. I'm laughing and crying. We are now below the slash. Oh God, we are fucked.

No balls no glory. We make it to the Flying J. We pull up to the pump. She ain't even coughed yet. So how low were we? 17.801 gallons of gas in an 18 gallon gas tank low. No shit.

Drove into Phoenix and had a burger with the boys up in cave creek. Good times.

I haven't been able to update the site all week. What a mess. Not even a phone hook up where I was staying.

I ran into one of the guys who handles housing for the race on Saturday night. He asked me why I hadn't updated the site all week. I told him it was because the house I was staying at didn't have a phone line, and therefore no internet connection. He told me that next year that issue would be addressed. He can't have me not maintain the site as a guest in his city. It just ain't right.

I can't wait.

Saturday, March 16, 2002

no links

Fuck it. We have no hit that uncomfortable ratio of more support staff than riders. It's time to hit the bar. Fuck the Falconer. Seriously. We went to the Boiler Room and gave it a proper showing. Good looking wait staff and comfy chairs. The Guinness was really flowing that night. I got to meet Brian, a fan of the site and a hell of a nice guy. Good times.

And, of course, you can't walk home without going to the Flamingo. It's a real shit hole. Just my kind of place. Cheap drinks and loose women. And I got to see some interesting developments on the pool tables. It seems the locals take their pool seriously and don't mind making things a little more interesting in the dollar department.

This all happened across the bar from where I was sitting, but the signs of a challenge are had to miss. The gestures of these two tells me two things: they already know each other and they already don't like each other. The two adversaries returned to their collective friends at opposite ends of the bar and huddled up like fourth and goal on the three yard line. The collective friends all leaned on to hear the game plan like so many rabid dogs.

It might just say more about the kind of people I was watching rather than the amount of money wagered that it took a few wallets on each side to cover the bet. Once that was secured, the fat hit the fire.

We have the Fat Guy against the girl with her own pool cue. Fat Guy takes a cue off the wall and looks it over, almost absentmindedly like he's going to use it now matter what it looks like. Interesting. Sign of a shark. I moved to a closer bar stool and ordered a Budweiser. This ought to be good. The guy ordering next to me is with the girl and her friends, and I ask him about her. He tells me, "Oh, she's a total bitch. I can say that, I've known her since the sixth grade." So her name will be Ms. Bitch.

After plenty of more posturing, the girl accepts the offer to break. It's like neither wants to give the slightest inch to the other. I'm already thinking this girl is a total nightmare. She's wearing a shirt with a Playboy bunny on it, but I think I've got a better chance of making the photo shoot than she does. I think she may have been hit by a train at some point. You should have seen how uncomfortable her boyfriend was during all this. He pretty much sat in the corner for the whole show, as if he could just manage to squeeze in tight enough, he's disappear. The poor fuck is just her doormat and everyone in the bar knows it but him.

Ms. Bitch flubs the break and now we're back to arguing over particulars. It's a mess on the felt, like the balls haven't moved at all. He's busting her chops about the break, and I can't tell if they're going to rack it back up or what. I think it's like a game of chicken now with both players saying something like, oh, it's fine with me, I'll play it like it lays. Unless you want to quit? You saying you want to quit? The game continues.

I can already tell this is as one sided as the last Super Bowl. Ms. Bitch is all about the "talk to the hand" and the "hair toss", but not so much about "making the shot". I'm pretty sure she's been on Jerry Springer 'cause he Dad fucks her or something.

The Fat Guy doesn't seem to have many friends in the bar. My friend Brian asks a local about him. Word is "he's a good shot, but he's an asshole and no body likes him." That much is becoming obvious. I'm not sure Ms. Bitch is much more popular in town, with most people are pulling for her by default it seems.

The end result wasn't too surprising. Always bet on the Fat Guy.

That's about it.

Friday, March 15, 2002

no links

The Oak Glenn road race is in the books. Holy shit was that ever a hard one. Those fuckers went 30 miles in the first hour of racing. And the whole 106 in something like 4 hours and ten minutes. Insane. The pace and the wind were so high that if you got tailed off ten meters on any of the rollers, you were fucked baby. Game over man. Have a nice ride back to Redlands.

One guy I know got popped and was like, fuck me. He dug around in his pocket and found $1.60. Good, he thought, I've got enough for a cup of coffee. He rode back to Redlands with a vague memory of a road map he found in a phone book out in the middle of nowhere. He might have well been in Kansas.

The first feed zone was a normal everyday complacent feed on a climb. The second one was a fucking train wreck. Scary ass high speed. Scary. It was on a broad avenue next to a turf farm. I swear it might have been downhill, even if only slighty. I think the riders came through at 25 - 28 mph. They were flying. I've never had as much trouble feeding people as I did then. Some riders want certain things, something special. A preferred energy drink or what have you. I had bottles in one pocket for one guy, shit in my back pocket for another. I can handle this, right? I see a guy, I hand him what he wants. Of course, nothing worked out according to plan.

Feeds that fast are just bizarre. It just gets surreal. It's like a high school dance, you're playin' the wall looking for a girl you know in the crowd. But now you're on the sidelines searching the crowd for the right jersey and a familiar face. When you finally make eye contact, it's like everything slows down, if only for just a second. Your eyes never leave the riders, and his go straight to that bottle. Everything in you is projecting that bottle our towards an outstretched hand. Closer, closer, the hand comes. Two people wanting that one thing to happen more than anything else in the world at that moment. A touch, an almost indiscernible pressure and the bottle leaves you hand for another.

It's over, just like that, snap, and it's starts again. Immediately you start looking down field for another rider, another set of searching eyes while your hands bring out another bottle. The dance begins continues.

It's fuckin' wild man. And just when you think it couldn't get any faster, any more dangerous, it does. These two Mexican riders are coming up behind me behind all the feeders. And they're out of the saddle, just fucking pounding it. People are yelling, empty bottles are flying all over and full ones are being dropped and subsequently run over and exploding.

All you can do is hold out that bottle for the next guy, and the next guy, and the next guy. I fed five guys and damn near got killed twice in eight seconds. Zoom, color wind and cursing and it's all over. Then it's back to the car and haul ass to the third feed.

Here is how it played out for the squad:
RJ out
Brian out
Gnome gives Price a wheel, rides in alone, missed time cut.
Miller rides in behind the Gnome.

The finish was at 4500 feet. Not all that high, really, but it was windy and terribly cold. Especially when you're standing around waiting for riders. I waited about 35 - 40 minutes for the Gnome and Miller. Just when I'm start getting bummed about freezing my ass off, I start talking to an official to see where the sag wagon and the tail end of this nightmare is. For all I know, these guys aren't going to ride up here. They might be heading back to Redlands.

They could be showered and watching March Madness at some bar, wondering where I'm at. That's what I'm picturing in my mind. I'm freezing my ass off watching team car after team car roll out. Fuck me.

So, the official is making all the necessary inquiries on his radio and I'm stomping my feet, rubbing my hands together and just generally hating it. Mr. Official and I both stop and watch this poor bastard come through the finish searching with those please take me home" puppy eyes. This guy has had it. He's dead and there is no one waiting for him.

I turn to the official and say, "I guess that's why I'm standing up here. I can't imagine how much that has to suck."

Then I see a green jersey, blue helmet, it's the Gnome. Man, he looks like he's had it too. His eyes lit up like its Christmas morning and he just unwrapped a Red Rider bb gun. Not far behind is Miller, same deal. I am a life saver for sure. Drinks and food all around for the boys and I can finally get the fuck out of here.

Oh yeah, I've got two bikes with Mavic nuetral support wheels. That means Mavic has two wheels that are ours. OK, I'll just walk over and exchange them. Yeah, it only sounds easy.

I'm sorry, we don't have two Bontrager Carbon wheels. Postal uses those. Oh, you use them too. Like Postal? We have one for you. This other one? Oh no, that belongs to Postal. Yeah, they already left. No, take this one instead.

Two trips back and forth from my car and we finally square up. Postal vs. our wheel.

It was Roland Green who won today. It looked to me like Horner let him have it, as Horner is more concerned with the G.C. But, you had better be looking at Cyclingnews, or Velonews for more accurate reporting. I'm pretty much like yadda yadda yadda already. As far as I'm concerned Jerry is right and Horner has this one in the bag.

Got back to the crack house and rode for an hour and a half by myself. I rode around on Sunday's circuit course. I got cold and bored. I went home. Fuck it.

And then later, Oh my fucking God. Don't ever go to the Falconer, it sucks. It's the local "British" bar. Yeah, and everyone who works there lives in Redlands and hasn't been anywhere near Britain in their lives. Gnome got a round, then R.J. and then it came to me. The bartender is ignoring me. And I mean really ignoring me. I resort to waving a couple of twenties at him like, yoo hoo, hey sailor.

Finally he comes by, starts washing some glasses, like glasses are more important than me, and tells me, "You want to know why you're being shunned?"

"Yeah." I say.

He tells me some shit like, "You don't tip."

"Oh yeah," I tell him "I haven't bought a round yet. How could I not tip if I haven't even bought anything?"

He gives me some line about, oh, maybe it wasn't you, but one the guys you're with. Someone over here left a .50 cent tip. And if you tip like that you don't get service in this bar.

"What does that have to do with me?" I ask. "Some of these guys I'm talking to over there I don't even know. I just met them tonight. I just got here and I want to but a round of drinks. Why are you telling me this shit?" I'm polite, but I'm letting him know that I don't appreciate his attitude. And I add something about why would I tip well now that he's been giving me a hard time?

Just about this time, the Gnome has had it with this prick and tells him so. It's like someone flipped a switch. I've never seen the little gut so pissed. I'm afraid the Gnome is about to go right over the bar on this guy. And I think it might have been the right thing to do. I don't condone fighting, but this bartender is the biggest dick I have ever seen in a bar. He deserves to be punched in the head about 247 times. Hard.

I pick up my money that I've had sitting on the bar for ten minutes trying to get a round and tell the guy, fine, you don't want my business I'll take it elsewhere. We've managed to make quite a scene. People I don't even know are saying, "That isn't right" and "That guy is a dick" about the bartender as I get my jacket and walk out.

So, if you are in Redlands and see the Falconer, I would ask that you don't spend a dime in that place. But, if you just have to go, look for the real small little bartender with short mans syndrome, and tell him he's an asshole for me.

We left and hit the Boiler Room. I understand it's the new place in town. In the two months since it opened it's managed to take a good deal of the Falconer's business according to some of the local who keep up on that sort of thing. In fact, more than one local tells me that the people who work the Falconer are pretty much assholes. I can recommend the Boiler Room. Go there, and when you do, tell the guys behind the bar you're there because the Falconer sucks dick. They like that shit.

Thursday, March 14, 2002

no links

Today was the Highland Circuit race, the second stage of the Redlands Bicycle Classic. It was won by Chris Horner by at least four bike lengths. At least if looked that way from where I was standing. Big Jerry tells me Horner is going to win this thing.

In fact, he told me that yesterday. But as Big Jerry likes to say, "No one ever listens to me." Hey, I'm listening baby. You got the firt round or what?

I was talking to a guy from Velonews in the feedzone. He was taking notes. Actual notes. Pen, paper, paying attention. The whole thing. Impressive. I told him that it was a good idea, but I figured on just making something up. He told me, yeah, it's just the internet.

Ain't it the truth, baby.

The circuit was a lesson in pain. It did not look fun. Not even a little a bit. All my boys were in there, mostly at the back and totally on the rivet. Gnome, Snake, Tex, Andy, RJ, fuck, all of 'em. I was fat and happy in the feed.

I'll never forget the gaping wide mouth on Chris. That man can suffer like nothing I've ever seen. And it was three flats for flat Eric. That poor bastard. Can a guy get a break?

Two nights at Marie Callender's. It's close, it's fresh, it's good.

Fuck it.

Wednesday, March 13, 2002

no links

Again, I'm going right to the mail pile. Give me a minute here and I'll start rolling. And a pepsi, just one pepsi, all I wanted was a pepsi.

From: Luke Subject: No Subject I was riding along next to the railroad tracks the other day. In front of me was this low hanging tree branch...an intelligent person would perhaps go around, yes? I went underneath it, and would have had no problem @ all, except that I was wearing my huge Camelbak Transalp....so I ended up dangling from the branch while my bike kept right on going without me. regrettably, no one saw it but me. bastards. anyway, you may find this website interesting: unicycling.com/muni/" I won't even begin to comment. -L

I did the same thing once, but with a friend. I ducked under a tree branch just like you did. When my back pack caught the tree branch my incredible weight and momentum drew that pine branch back real taunt and then sent it straight into the face of the angry hippie riding behind me. I damn near knocked him off his bike with that one. He ended up with a huge ass bruise and scrape combo. It was gnarly. I was feeling pretty guilty and laughing at him at the same time.

Now I'm back at the host housing. It's amazing the improvements that have been made to this property in 24 hours. There is a hot water heater, functioning shower, and a stove that weren't here yesterday. Someone put a whole lot of work into this. Thanks.

The gnome, Todd and I went to Wall mart for some supplies. I got a cheap sleeping pad and a three pack of mid calf black dress socks to complete my proper feed zone attire for less then ten dollars. The gnome drops about 14 bucks on a sleeping bag and some other shit. We're bargain shoppers.

Todd Wells spends $96.32. He's not a bargain shopper, he's a pro.

He's got two pillows, a sleeping bag and enough linen to outfit an entire house. One of those "bed in a bag" deals. The best part? As he's paying for it he asks the cashier, "If these sheets and comforter don't go with my apartment, can I return them. Yes, oh good. And exactly how long do I have to bring them back?"

And he's a fucking player. Check this shit out.

From Pearl Izumi On the Mountain bike side, we have signed another athletes to represent Pearl Izumi footwear. Todd Wells is an accomplished rider who just signed on to the Mongoose team, taking the open slot that Steve Larsen left when he moved to triathlon. He recently returned to cycling after taking years off to get an MIS degree and work for IBM. He felt like racing again so he successfully came back last year. Below are a few of his stat's: 1995 Collegiate National Champion 1996 Collegiate National Champion 1996 Semi-Pro National Champion 2001 Cyclocross National Champion 2001 NORBA National Series 6th Overall

I guess I should say something about the race today. It was a short, uphill prologue. Chris Horner was the fastest. All my boys are in there. The real test is tomorrow circuit race. These poor bastards get to hit this wall of a climb 18 times. Ho ho, and I'll be chillin' in the feed zone where big fat fucks like me belong.

That said, someone told me today I was looking pretty lean and that if there was a manager's race, I'd be kicking some ass. The only part that surprised me was the part about "manager".

Tuesday, March 12, 2002

olive   I   lisa marie   I   amber michaels

My God, where do I even start? I can't believe it was just this morning that I woke up on Julz's floor. I got in the car and pointed that thing west. All the way to California, baby. Man, I-10 sucks. Big time.

It was a morning like most mornings for the gnome and I. We drank coffee and said, "Are we there yet?" for five hours. Instead of our usual bullshit where we drink coffee and say, "Should we ride yet?" for five hours.

You see the differences are slight.

Well, we got here in one piece and even found our host housing quite easily. What a fucking shithole. Unreal. Totally ghetto. Absolutely unlivable.

We're talking no hot water, no shower, no parking and no stove. Just a hole in the kitchen cabinets where it is supposed to be. The tub was filled with buckets and tools and carpet. Where the shower nozzle should be, it was just a pipe sticking out of the wall. The floors we covered with dust and construction debris. There were two guys painting the front rooms who had no idea about anything. They were nice guys, though.

This is supposed to house 8 people for five days. Yeah right. Not gonna happen. So we went for a ride. It was the right thing to do.

The ride went as one would expect when it's hot, hilly and the Gnome starts racing tomorrow. I got dropped on the climb up Sand Canyon. I can live with that. Coming over the top of the hill, the gnome waited for me and we turned right. We ride through a couple of rollers and the road turns to dirt. Good times.

I've got my jersey unzipped as far as it will go to scoop up some air. It also scoops up a bee. This fucker is biting and stinging the shit outta me. I'm smacking my chest and yelling, "Ow, ow, ow"

I can't kill it.

The son of a bitch makes it down inside my bibs and now I'm really fucking screaming. I'm skidding to a stop with one hand on the bars swerving all over this dirt road. I'm grabbing the little bastard through the lycra trying to pinch him to death. But not before he gets into mister happy.

The fucking bee got my penis.

It hurt.

Then we went back to the bombed out ghetto host housing and said, fuck it. Lets get a hotel. Now I'm chillin with what must be the rest of the race at the Goodnite Inn. I think all the teams are here.

It's 'ol Tex's birthday today, and I got to have cake with that fucker. Happy birthday Tex. Ya old coot.

I found this over at cyclingnews.com. It's so fucking funny that I had to post it over here too. I hope no one minds. Well, enjoy.

The VD in VDB made him do it. February 28 - Domo Farm Frites's cyclist Franck Vandenbroucke and his personal injection coach have been charged with possession of drugs and negligent moronicism in Belgium, after police discovered a substantial stash of drugs during a Wednesday night search of his trailer in the woods. The Domo-Farm Frites team quickly fired Vandenbroucke after news of the search became public. A spokesman for the team said, "We certainly know nothing of this. We are innocent man, we been framed. Why, we don't even allow the use of band aids on this team. It is better for a cyclist to bleed to death by the side of the road than to risk the wrath of the press. If Franck did this he is a big silly dodo dummy who acted alone. It is quite amazing that he managed to completely hide this from us while often spending days at a time with the team and being tested frequently by our doctors. We didn't have a clue." Following the arrest of his French injection trainer, the infamous Bernard Sainz, who was arrested in the top of a tree in a clown suit howling like a hyena while throwing loaded syringes of methamphetamine into a schoolyard, Belgian police conducted a search of Vandenbroucke's Airstream trailer and found a variety of banned performance-enhancing and other substances, a prosecutor's office spokesman in Termonde, Belgium, said Thursday. According to the source, police found the red-blood-cell-boosting drug EPO, as well as 50 kilos of Morroccan hash, 2 kilos of uncut Afghani heroin, 347 vials of crack, a jug of liquid LSD, 7 automatic assault weapons, 4 hand grenades, a neutron bomb, a crate of restaurant sized sugar packets which were full of anthrax spores, and an assortment of illegal exotic animals which had been branded with Michael Jackson's personal logo. Vandenbroucke's attorney explained, "These products were all being stored for a close friend of Frank's. He is an epileptic diabetic narcoleptic kleptomaniac who work for the circus. It's all very simple." Steve Thursday, February 28, 2002

Can you top that? I think not. Well, maybe this is close. You'll have to decide for yourselves.

George Carlin Speaks Out... I Am Your Worst Nightmare. I am a BAD American. I am George Carlin. I like big cars, big hooters, and big paychecks. I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some midlevel governmental functionary with a bad comb-over who wants to give it away to crack addicts squirting out babies. I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac, you'd better do it in English. I'm not in touch with my feelings and I like it that way. I believe that it doesn't take a village to raise a child, it takes two parents. I think owning a gun doesn't make you a killer. I want to know, which church is it exactly where the Reverend Jesse Jackson preaches. And where does he get his money. And why is he always part of the problem and not the solution. I believe if she has her lips on your willie, it is sex, and it is sex for both of you. This even applies when you are President of the United States. I think that being a student doesn't give you any more enlightenment than working at Blockbuster. In fact, if your parents are footing the bill to put your pansy ass through 4-7 years of college, you haven't begun to be enlightened. I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God or gods, just leave the rest of us out of it. This also applies to sexuality. I believe it's called the Boy Scouts for a reason. I don't think being a minority makes you noble or victimized. I don't use the excuse "it's for the children" as a shield for unpopular opinions or actions. I think fireworks should be legal on the 4th of July. My heroes are John Wayne, the Simpsons, and whoever canceled Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. I don't hate the rich. I don't pity the poor. I know wrestling is fake and I don't waste my time arguing about it. I think global warming is a big lie. Where are all those experts now, when I am freezing my ass through a long winter? I've never owned a slave, or was a slave, I didn't wander forty years in the desert after getting chased out of Egypt, I haven't burned any witches or been persecuted by the Turks and neither have you, so shut up already. I think the cops have every right to shoot your sorry ass if you're running from them. I also think they have the right to pull your ass over if you are breaking the law, regardless of what color you are. I think if you are too stupid to know how a ballot works, I don't want you deciding who should be running the most powerful nation of the world for the next four years. I think if you are in the passing lane, and not passing, your license should be revoked, and you should be forced to ride the bus until you promise to never delay the rest of us again. I think beef jerky could quite possibly be the perfect food. I think tattoos and piercing are fine if you want them, but please don't pretend they are a political statement. I think Dr. Seuss was a genius. I'm neither angry nor disenfranchised, no matter how desperately the mainstream media would like the world to believe otherwise. If that makes me a BAD American, then yes, I'm a BAD American.

Monday, March 11, 2002

yana   I   hot young lesbians   I   space babe

Why is it that Monday mornings still suck even when you're unemployed? Can anyone explain that one to me?

We've had some issues with internet access here at the White Stallion Ranch of late. The internet café the Gnome and I were frequenting has closed up shop. Apparently it is now an empty building. Those fuckers. I even ponyed up the ten bucks for a year membership. If I would have known they were about to crumble like a house of cards I wouldn't have. Well, maybe I would have. I need something, some kind of pipeline to the information highway, baby. I've got to have my fix.

The real pisser is that the local phone directory lists no other sources of internet access. Nada, nunca, zip, zero, zilch, none. So, I thought I'd turn to a friend.

I tried like hell to get online with MSNBC piece of annoying crap, something or the other dial up last night with no positive results over at big M's house. I'll call her "big M" because of the negative implications an association with this website could have for such a tender young flower. Yeah right.

I could I not convince my computer that it was really OK, you can connect anytime now. Not only that, the Gnome and I couldn't even get big M's computer online with her own service. Nothing would work. Sorry, try back later, it would say after dialing all the numbers in its directory twice. We're busy. Connection? We already have one, you see. It is very nice. Now, go away before I taunt you again.

Oh, how I miss DSL. I now have about three days of updates and a whole bunch of email with no way to upload. Today's goals are short and sweet. They include such things as doing the laundry, packing for Redlands and getting my fat ass back online. If only for a few short blissful minutes. It's all I ask.

Laura from Holland sends us this next link, and it is a dandy, isn't it? Go see for yourself. Gentlemen, that is a girl on a bicycle.

And Corey sent in this link. Go have a look at that one time for your mind. You can thank me later.

I've accomplished all of about nothing today. I need to wash my pile of well worn clothes at some point. It's getting gnarly. But, the laundry at this here R.V. park isn't exactly working right now. Something about a water heater exploding. How exciting. And to think I thought the only in danger of exploding around here were my white trash neighbors meth labs.

Big Jim, the manager of this fine facility tells me "the repair guy is supposed to be here between 11:00 and 1:00. He's cutting it pretty damn close." The man is nothing if not intimidating. I think he's been kicking ass for more years than I've been alive. Ol Jim's made a few comments on the lycra and "shiny hard hats you boys wear around", but he could give a shit. He likes us because we don't ask him for anything and our checks don't bounce. That puts us a cut above the rest around here.

Lets see, I've eaten almost an entire box of graham crackers, finished reading C. Everett Koop's memoirs, started in on a book called Forgotten English and one called Ethical Choice all before lunch. Those three I can recommend. I've somehow made it half way through a Tim Allen book. It's about as exciting as his television show, which, incidentally I've never watched all the way through. You see where I'm going with this?

Yes, big jonny reads books. Frightening isn't it? The Gnome told me I was an "information junkie". He may be on to something. I'll probably swing by the coffee shop on my now relegated to mid-afternoon ride, so I can carve my way through whatever newspapers are there. Someone always buys the New York Times and leaves it there, just for me I'm sure. Isn't everything better when it's free?

There is a guy we call the Husky Midget. To know him is to love him. He once told a girl he was having dinner with that the food tasted better when he knew she was paying for it.

What makes the story even better is that she continued to date our cheap friend for a good many more months, if not an entire year, picking up untold tabs in the process. We all could learn a few things from the Husky Midget. Like, how to squeeze into a pair of motorcycle pants that haven't kept up with a widening waistline. I'll tell you this much: It isn't a pretty site. We're talking NC-17 at best.

I figure I'm going to really catch hell for this. I think Husky can take me. Do I care? It's like the Gnome and I figured out a few nights back snuggling under a blanket, er, I mean sitting on opposite sides of the trailer, don't just burn bridges. Don't settle for that. Go big. Burn the bridge, destroy the foundation it was built on, and eradicate all signs that a bridge ever stood there. And don't stop there either. Napalm the whole fucking river valley. Burn it all, baby. The whole village. Anyone who even saw that bridge, gone. Kill everyone, everything, gone.

Doesn't that feel better already?

Sunday, March 10, 2002

eva   I   monica miller   I   erica

Dave and I, like a great many other Americans, are watching the 9-11 special on CBS. It is an amazing production. A good representation of what will be for many of us the most horrible thing we have ever witnessed in our lifetimes. This is not easy to watch, but I feel that it is important enough that I should watch it.

It's hard not to get emotional at times like this. What a fucking waste. It sure doesn't feel like it's been 6 months. Randy is here as well now, and I'm realizing just how important a man's friends are. They are everything.

I just cannot continue writing about this. It is too much for one man to handle. I'm bailing and going to the reader mail. I hope you all can understand.

From: two with ink Subject: RE: Mount Lemon Nice effort ... but try riding Gibraltar Road next time you're in Santa Barbara, CA -- 4,100 ft in 9 miles -- an average 8.6% grade -- hors cata"gorey". Makes Mount Lemon look like a fuckin' handicap ramp. Love your site man!

Anything that makes the hell of climbing Mount Lemon resemble a wheel chair ramp is nothing I want any part of. I'm not going near Gibralter Road. Not till next Tuesday anyway. Then it's jonny time. And I'm glad to hear you like the site.

From: jason Subject: mexico Big J, just chillin here in Mexico at the local internet Cafe. These cafe´s are everywhere here. going to race this weekend at Mexico´s version of the NORBA NCS. This is stop #2 and these guys are serious about racing. I´ve been treated this well since you visited me last November. I´ve been interviewed by several papers and the television. They are promoting this race like TWells and I versus Ziranda Madrigal---Mexican MTB hero and placed 15th at Worlds last year. Last night, we had a dinner and the official meeting of Ziranda and I. Good food----snail, octapus, scallops, and shrimp tostadas. Sound funky but tastes deliciousa and does wonders for your libido---I´m going to explode soon. Anyway I just wanted to say hello and the Mexican´s love your site. You were the talk of the dinner last night. Congratulations Baby your third World wide. ===== Jason

I'm stoked to hear I can offer something to my Latin brothers in return for the finest food on the planet. The one thing that saved Moscow, Idaho was the fine Mexican resturants. Yeah, plural as in there are two of them. Both owned by the same people, but two just the same. I've got to tell you that I'm down with increasing my libido and all that, but fuck a bunch of snails. It'll be a long stay on a deserted island before that starts sounding appetizing. And good luck not exploding.

I'll find out how your racing south of the border went when I see you next week at Redlands.

And that bring me to another point of interest. I'll be at Redlands next week. Updates will be hard to pull off, but I'll be trying. And no, I'm not racing. I'll be handing up water bottles and polishing helmets. But not necessarily in that order. You know how it can be out on the road.

Saturday, March 9, 2002

natasha   I   big cans   I   alexis amore

Here are two great links by one great guy named il campione. You can thank him for this madness. Click here and then here for even more fun. Good times.

And holy shit if this isn't the coolest thing ever. Scott says, "this thing so rocks!" I think he's probably right.

I'll be in Phoenix riding this weekend. No racing for me this weekend. It's fun ride time.

Friday, March 8, 2002

monica miller   I   asian teen   I   hottie

Fuck me these guys are tough. Put this site in your favorites now. And now, some thoughts from the inbox.

From: 10 'o Hearts Subject: dogs and dope I think maybe there's something to this thing with VDB's dog and his stash of blood dope. I had to go out of town for the day, and when I get back, my own dog's got a swollen snout. Looks like she got worked over, except no claw marks like a fight or anything, just swollen on her left side. So I think she got into something, or was chewing on an electrical cord that I haven't found yet. Well, if the swelling doesn't go down by the morning, I'll call the vet and see if maybe giving her some of that magic juice Clenbuterol (from my own stash) will cure her ills. Cause I figure that's what happened to VDB's pooch. Got jacked by a cat, and needed the dope for its recovery. Speaking of which, did you see on Velonews where a couple of D.2 Belgian teams are already trying to draft a contract for VDB if he turns out clean? I thought only in America could a crackhead (Michael Irvin, Marion Barry, Darryl Strawberry) get his professional life back without consequence after repeated convictions…

My man, you are all over that like a cheap suit. Take the dog to the vet, get him all the wonder drugs money can buy, because dogs aren't generally asked to provide a urine sample. They just splash that incriminating, drug tainted piss all over the place without fear of repercussion. Those lucky bastards.

Take the dog home, toss him in the yard and get yourself on the Belgian Bunny Juice program. Hell, start jabbing a needle in your ass before your races too. Why not? It's what the pro's do. And when you start to run through your supply, get yourself a couple more dogs for good measure. And make sure they're accident prone as all hell.

Yeah Doc, looks like Lucy walked into a door again. We're gonna need another round of Clenbuterol and some Morphine as well. And those pain killers I got from you last time kinda upset my stomach, can I get something different this time. Oh yeah, I meant to say her stomach. My bad, slip of the tongue Doc, you know how it is.

Point. Counterpoint.

From: marco Subject: coupla points 1)Give Frank VDB a break. I don't think he was cheating, more leveling the playing field. Infact I feel sorry for him getting busted and apparently he is now in the nut-house. 2) Is Randy West a big star in the US? Do you think he could run for president? Couldn't be any worse than the genius you've got at the moment could he...? Roll on the classics marco london

I have to admit, my dear marco, that I agree with you. I've been picking on VDB out of convenience alone. He's all over the news right now and it's a hot topic. But, I still like the guy. I don't think for one minute that the only professional cyclist taking any banned substances at the moment is Frank Vandenbrouke. I think most guys are taking something. Anything they can get their hands on probably.

I think of it like this, my dear reader. Of your friends, how many take, use or abuse what I will refer to as "recreational" drugs? And, I'm going to include alcohol in this discussion, because after all, it is a drug. And, of course, I am also referring to smoking pot, taking pills, and the rest of the bunch. Any and all of that stuff. So how many of your friends?

I would guess that for a great number of you the answer is "most of them". And I feel that athletes are very similar in that most of them are taking something that isn't exactly legal. It's important to remember that a couple of cups of coffee before a race is OK, but a 1000 mg caffeine pill is a very different animal. It's easy to forget the things like drinking coffee. But, you can get your happy ass thrown right out of a race for it. Just ask Gianni Bugno.

And as someone who has had his problems with asthma in the past, I can tell you that bronchial dilatators like Ventallin (sp?) make a huge difference. And as someone who has had his share of allergy and hay fever issues, over the counter drugs containing psuedoephedrine are life savers. Does it surprise me that the majority of the pro peleton has prescriptions for both asthma and seasonal allergies? No, it does not.

So where does this little discussion take us? Nowhere. Cyclists do drugs as does a pretty big chunk of the general population. I don't know how to fix any of it, or even if it needs fixing in the first place. Fuck it, man, ride the wave. Play the fiddle while Rome burns, baby.

I'm still a fan of professional cycling. Roll on the classics, indeed.

And, yes, I think Randy West would make a fine President. Along the same lines, I'm quite convinced that simply rolling a dice to decide both foreign and domestic policy would be an improvement over the current situation. Or, maybe something involving a dart board, horse shoes or tea leaves. Any game of chance would suffice.

From: Kyle Subject: Race photos Jonny, I thought you might enjoy these pic's from last years races: mountainbikeaz.com/racing/williams_2001/wil2001_bg_3611.html Yours is a good picture but once again Casey never disappoints the camera, the title is the best part. mountainbikeaz.com/racing/pt2001/pt2001_bg_3356.html If only the picture was at more of any angle and you could have seen the Old Milwaukee I had in my bottle cage. mountainbikeaz.com/racing/williams_2001/wil2001_bg_3631.html

Good looking out Kyle. Who knew I was the unknown cyclist? Casey does have that certain camera appeal, doesn't he? I think it's a hold over from his days as a gay model in New York City. Some things you just can't unlearn, I guess. And I kinda wish I could see the Old Milwaukee in your bottle cage. But, I was there and I saw it with my own two eyes. I believe man, I believe.

Thanks for sending those in. I never get sick of seeing how ridiculous we all look in wife beaters. Oh, I those were the days.

Thursday, March 7, 2002

erica campbell   I   aria giovanni   I   what's up dirty?

Today I climbed Mount Lemon. All the way to the lovely little town of Summerhaven. Or, was it Winterhaven? Some sort of haven.

If I though I was tired earlier in the week, I was crazy. That is one big hill. I've never ridden anything that big in my whole life. Um, let me rephrase that.

I've never ridden up a climb like that in my life. It's fucking endless, man. Jesus Christ, I must have died out there four or five times. It just keeps going.

Wanna know what the fuck I'm babbling about? When I was at the top, trying to remove my head from my ass at the aptly named Mt. Lemon Café with multiple cups of coffee, my odometer read 45 miles. Do you have any idea how incredibly demoralizing it is to know your dead and you've only reached the half way point?

That's right, kids, it's an out and back. 45 miles up and 45 miles back. Fuck me that was hard.

Did I mention there is fucking snow up there? I saw signs that read elevation 8000 feet and the road kept climbing. Someone told me the highest point on the road in 9150, but I don't know if I believe that. It was up there, that much I can tell you. And cold, man was it cold. I think that Tucson is at around 2500, so you know I earned it today, baby.

I've got some news on the jersey front. Thank God. I want to thank all you guys and girls for hanging in there while this whole sorted mess came to fruition.

I should be mailing the jerseys out to all of you sometime early next month. I'd like it a whole friggin lot if I could do a mass mailing on the first of April, but we'll see. That's the plan right now anyway, that's what I'm going with. Verge should be sending them to me in a couple of weeks and then I in turn send them to you.

Thanks for you patience, I know this has been a long time coming.

From: Heff Subject: Another bit of random fluff OUR BEER WHICH COMETH IN BOTTLES HALLOWED BE THY ALE THY WILL BE DRUNK I WILL BE DRUNK AT HOME AS WE ARE IN THE PUB GIVE US EACH DAY OUR DAILY BEVERAGE AND FORGIVE US OUR SPILLAGES AS WE FORGIVE THOSE WHO SPILLEST AGAINST US AND LEAD US NOT INTO POOFY WINEBARS OR DETRACT US FROM REAL ALE FOR MINE IS THE BITTER THE TOTTY AND THE FOOTY FOREVER AND EVER BARMEN! Seemed to suit. Heff.

Heff, you the man. I like that one so much I'm gonna take up drinkin again. I mean, I'm not going to stop drinking again. I stopped drinking? Again? I'm lost. Something like that anyway.

Wednesday, March 6, 2002

veronica zemanova   I   amber micheals   I   monica miller

Today I pretty much got nothing for ya man. I'm tired, I'm spent, I'm looking forward to bar-b-que-n' up a little sumptin' sumptin'.

Just when you thought it couldn't possibly get any weirder...Frank Vandenbrouke's "veterinarian has allegedly confirmed that the steroid Clenbuterol was actually for his dog". Click here for the rest of the story at cyclingnews.com. I want to believe it, but c'mon. I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. It was a beer truck.

Ah shit. Read this.

From: Jim Subject: Ah, HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh, my Dog!!! I just looked at that page about the 250k for providing proof of evolution. What a silly, stupid, ignorant bastard!!! But, I won't reduce myself to his level of using personal attacks to prove his viewpoint. In another part of the page he goes into this big, long winded "disproof" of evolution, where he thoroughly demonstrates the theistic tactic of misrepresentin' and misunderstandin' modern science. Oops, more ad hominem arguments, damn. Anyway, he cites how all of these modern scientific fields were founded by Creationists, as if that's some sort of proof of Creations validity. Then he goes on to slag on any scientist and philosopher who ever said anything at all against religion, or pro-evolution. Never mentions that the "creationists" he refers to often didn't believe in his god, and often had personality traits or world views that were just as awful as he accuses "evolutionists" of having. The funniest part of his disproof is his reference to the "well-authenticated" Guadeloupe woman. To see how "well-authenticated" it really is read this. It really gets funny when you consider the guy who originally put a date on the skeleton disappeared when the museum offered to get the date checked, no charge to him...Hmmm. The rest of the disproof is laughable as he doesn't really seem to understand any of the principles he cites and the remainder of his argument relies completely on information overload, ad hominem (personal attacks, translated: "to the man") arguments and sheer stupidity. Sigh... and I thought that maybe there really be someone there who had something new to add to the "debate"... I wish I knew a lot more about evolution biology, genetics, geology, archaeology, etc., 'cause I could sure use $250k... On a final note, fella at Creation Science Evangelism cites Adolph Hitler as an "evolutionist", saying "He carefully studied the writings of Darwin and Nietzsche. Hitler's book, Mein Kampf, was based on evolutionary theory". The following quote is a quote I found from Mein Kampf (poor Hitler, nobody wants to claim his beliefs but the Neo-Nazis and who wants to be affiliated with them?)      "Therefore, I am convinced that I am acting as the agent of our Creator. By fighting off the Jews, I am doing the Lord's work." jim

Oh my dog, indeed my friend. Great email, well thought out, articulate and with supportive links provided. How could I not post it?

If anyone out there is riding a Schwinn, you might just want to read this. Hell, you might want to read this no matter what you ride. Sounds like a pretty good deal all around.

Effective March 1, 2002 Trek will offer Trek replacement frames at crash replacement pricing to your customers who have had frame failure (warranty or non warranty) on any Schwinn adult bike purchased in the last 5 years. This program is available on mountain, hybrid, comfort and road frames. We will replace the frame with the comparable Trek model frame at the current crash replacement cost. This program is limited to frame replacement only, the customer will incur any and all costs associated with the frame including any parts that do not change over, fork replacement and labor associated with the frame swap. Your inside rep can provide you with the specific comparable model and the pricing.

As the world turns, baby. These are the days of our lives.

Tuesday, March 5, 2002

veronica zemanova   I   blake   I   aria giovanni

God damn those tilted forum project mother fuckers are up to no good. Check this shit out one time.

If you're looking for more time wasting games, click over here.

I'm about done. I mean, stick a fucking fork in me already. Three hard weeks in a row are enough. This was to be an easy week, I knew that from the start. But, I am still surprised at how tired I am. I am totally blown out.

That's what I came here for, right?

An interesting note on today's ride and what I'll never understand about fitness and conditioning. I felt like shit all morning. I say around drinking water and fucking around on the computer for about three hours, never really getting that close to riding my bike. I ate a few bagels with peanut butter, some cereal, some toast. I just felt shitty.

Then Dave comes home from his new job at the coffee shop and he's bouncing off the friggin walls. He is so ready to ride it's not even funny. Reluctantly almost, I go with him. I'm already making contingency plans about riding home early. I don't feel like I have it in me today.

Well, coming back from our two hour loop, I felt like a million bucks. Dave did not. Now he is the one feeling like shit. I'm riding in the wind, with Dave behind me. How the fuck did that happen?

You can go read the list of riders under investigation following the Giro raids of last spring over at cycling news. And, perhaps even more interesting, the lists of what products they were found to be in possession of. I'll go ahead and save you the trouble of looking yourself by simply stating that the biggest find of all those raids was the wonder drug, caffeine.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Here is your chance to be heard. I don't really know if it'll make any difference or not in the end. But it's always worth a shot, right?

From: Jason Subject: FW: FW: Bicyclists' on-line survey: Cycling & the Government Greetings Fellow Cyclists - I'd like you to complete an on-line survey at the website of Bicycling Magazine www.bicycling.com called Cycling and the Government (middle section on first page). Those of you who can, please add a link on your group's website to the survey as well as forward this info to cyclists everywhere. Here's the whole story: National Bike Summit in DC March 6 - 8 - this is basically the bicycle industry's lobbying days on Capitol Hill in DC, hosted by our friends at the League of American Bicyclists. I know most of you can't go, but please take time to complete a survey we've put together on the Bicycling Magazine website www.bicycling.com called Cycling and the Government (left side of the first page). The point is to have some data to present to members of Congress while we lobby for continued funding for bike lanes, trails, education, etc., when federal legislation is up for reauthorization late in 2003. Take a few minutes and complete the survey, please - and maybe you can go the Summit next year when it'll be really important to let Congress know how important bicycling is. Gary Sjoquist Bicycle Industry Advocate, Quality Bicycle Products Director of Membership, Bikes Belong Coalition

I figure all you drunk nut jobs read my site, why not send you on over to those poor bastards at Bicycling magazine so you can really let loose on 'em?
Don't hold back now, make me proud to be an American.

Monday, March 4, 2002

veronica   I   sky lopez   I   sonja adams

Did you every stumble across a website that scares the shit outta you? I did. What the fuck is this shit? Oh dear God. What is the world coming to?

I managed to dig myself right into a pretty decent sized whole this week. Somewhere around 20 hours and 275 miles. It's not quite the pain cave, but it'll have to do for now. At least until next weekend. Then it's time for the real hurting.

Today I decided that I would sleep in. I need a break. Hell, it's Monday, I can do that shit. This morning the alarm clock did not go off, I did not stumble into my lycra clown suit and head down to the coffee shop. Instead I decided to lay in bed until I just couldn't stand it anymore. How late did I sleep, I thought to myself as I laid in the sunshine coming through the window, ten? Maybe even eleven o'clock?.

No, I slept in till 9:15 am. There is really something wrong with my life is that's the best I can do. Remember that I was trying to sleep in today. Fucking 9:15? You've got to be kidding me. Want am I going to do with myself for the rest of the day?

I guess that leaves eating. As Randy likes to say, the other half of recovery. Let's hope I can manage this end of it. I feel good, like I can do something really special. I'll think I'll start with the Elvis breakfast. You know, the 8 eggs, loaf of toast, pound of bacon variety of meal. Or, maybe I'll have an Elvis omelet. That's one you make using the entire contents of the left side of the fridge. Could be the right side too, I imagine. Or, the whole fridge for that matter. Remember Elvis was a big fat old fuck, and he could eat.

We all have to have goals. Mine just happen to suck, that's all.

Maybe later today I'll try to fit in a nap to make up for my poor showing in he sleep department last night. It'll be like a double workout day. That's what the hard men do. At least that's what I hear. I don't really know any hard men. Nope, none of those around here.

From: Ten 'o Hearts Subject: evolution of a jackass regarding the anti-evolution minister. So let me get this straight; after checking out his site, I am told to give up my "belief" in evolution, because it is a "belief" and there for unproven, and therefore, more like a religion; and in exchange for giving up my "belief" or "religion-like" ideology, I am to accept....religion. And more belief. I think I can prove this guy "evolved" from a failed condom. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a heretic or heathen, but guys like this give religion a bad name. p.s. I was recently introduced to the site, and love it. Keep it up, even if you wind up in a full body cast and suffering penile itch.

Right on man, I'm glad you like the site. And you're right, that guy does give religion a bad name. I think that a little tolerance is the real key to life. You know what I mean? We're all different. What ever it takes for you to feel comfortable with this whole big trip is fine by me. Whatever floats you boat and finds your lost remote, baby.

And I'll try to stay out of that full body cast.

Sunday, March 3, 2002

jewel   I   sunny   I   tawny

I changed the title bar thingy this week, and yes, that is a picture of the motor home I'm livin' in. Me and the Gnome and the bottle makes three tonight, baby. Also, I found some little beer mug .gif to use up there on the navigation bar rather than those dumb bullet things I've been using for the last six months. You see, change can be good.

It seems like some bonehead in a car has yelled at me every day this week. It ranges from a silly, "Hey, you wanna race?" to a stupid white trash bitch yellin, "Heerrrraaaa, how ya doin?" with a cigarette handing out of her mouth a four kids in the car. Undoubtedly all her own children and from four different fathers, none of which she had any contact with I'm sure.

White trash bitches are like lesbians in that I only like them when they're hot. Otherwise you should be dragged out into the street and shot so your vile chromosomes don't contaminate the gene pool. These ugly, slag toothed whores should not be allowed to procreate. Nothing good can come of it, mark my words.

I was on my bike at a traffic light up on Oracle road the other day and three teenage guys are in a car next to me. They looked like they just stepped out of an in-sink video. Yeah, I'm not even going to try to spell that one. So, I hear them giggling like school girls and I look over at them. The giggling stops and not one of them will make eye contact with me.

The light turns green and now these guys have found some balls. One of them calls me, are you ready for this, "fatass". Oh, you son's a bitches. I'm like, no, it's fat boy you twit, fat boy. But they're already gone on down the road. And the moment is lost, leaving me feeling a whole lot like George Kastanza.

I bailed on two rides of epic proportions yesterday.

The first was Big Gay Randy's over Mount Lemon adventure. He had decided that bike touring is much more exciting than bike racing. And, he may be right in that assumption, but that doesn't change the fact that my camping equipment was forcibly removed from my car with everything else that was stolen. I never did have any proper racks or panniers, so I'm fucked in that department.

But, I did try. I made a few phone calls and visited two different stores looking to see what I could scrounge up on the low dollar tip. Not much it turns out, but that doesn't stop Randy from calling me out. Put all your shit in a back pack he says, stop being a pussy, how much shit do you need for one night anyway fat boy?

Did I mention this is a 120 mile loop climbing up the back side of Mount Lemon on dirt roads? And I mean climbing with a capital "C". I haven't made it the top riding up the pavement yet and this guy wants me to do it on the dirt with at backpack. On my road bike, of course.

So, I didn't go. But I did offer to ride out to Oracle with him and then ride back to town by myself when he hit dirt. I figure that's something, right?

On the way out we run into Justin and a friend of his named Eric ( I think, sorry if I got that wrong ). Justin is trying to talk me into riding a loop with him. But, in typical cryptic Justin style, he cannot tell me much about it as we ride along in the wondeful wind.

All I'm asking are the simple things like; where are you riding, now long is the loop, when do you plan on getting back? The usual stuff.

Can he tell me? No. Justin being Justin he says shit like, oh, it's a good road, up here about five miles. It's dirt, but it's like pavement, hard pack. No, I mean it's paved. Someone paved it once, maybe. It's just real narrow, like a dirt road. We only ride it for five miles. Oh, yeah, we turn in five miles. The road, no I've never ridden it. Well, I rode it once, but in the other direction. It's kinda out there by those power lines, but not at the power lines. It's not that long really.

Oh, it's all downhill. Sure. Where are we going? Out to the frontage road. Yeah, the frontage road on I-10, the interstate. We'll pretty much be in town then. We come out by a power plant. Isn't the interstate on the other side of those mountains? Yeah, I think it is on the other side of those mountains. It's not that far, c'mon, you can still see them, right? They're not that far away. No, I wouldn't say they're on the horizon.

Yeah, the power plant is by Pitchaco Peak. But not that far, really. It's closer than that. We have to go there to get across the canal. What are you worried about, I've got another brownie and these peanut butter crackers. Yeah, I've only got one water bottle, but it's half empty, see? It's only 2:30, we'll be back way before dark...

Fuck that, I'm going home, I said. And I did. I wonder if the buzzards have found him yet?

Here are some ridiculously hot galleries for your viewing pleasure. My favorite pic so far? This one right here.

This week at the coffee shop this girl I know, who shall remain nameless for now, said, and I quote: "I'm not mean, It's just the way I am. I'm not really a bitch either, it's just my personality." I pretty much hit the floor laughing.

Go check out all these rad flash movies some guy took the time to link up over at the tilted forum project. Good shit.

I am so completely sick and tired of hearing about the Valley of the Sun stage race. You can read all about it here and here. Seriously. Some *people* are still complaining about it down here in Tucson. At least I heard about it on the Wednesday ride. My suggestion is that if you had a bad experience at Valley of the Sun, race the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo next year instead. There is no center line to cross. If you go off course, you don't get DQ'd, you hit cactus. And, if you think you're really hard, like me, do it on a single speed.

Saturday, March 2, 2002

courtney   I   jewel de nyle   I   kitana jade

I did a bad thing today.

As you can probably expect, I get a ton of forwarded email. I think I'm averaging around ten every single day. I never get to forward it to anyone myself 'cause if it's any good I use it on the site. And if it isn't any good, and it almost always isn't, I delete it.

The one exception is Tall Paul. That guy has a gift. He filters out the crap, and only sends me the good stuff. Or, at least I assume he filters it. Either that or he's hooked up to some bizarre high quality email forwarding ring based out of Taiwan.

So, today I did the unthinkable. I cracked. I sent some dumb thing about "forward this message and get a check in the mail" to a whole shitload of people. For all of you out there that got that piece of shit email, you can thank me later. Like when you see me in hell. Save me a seat by the fire, OK?

Anyway, whatever it said, it was so outlandish that I just started laughing. I'm like, what the fuck is this? I've heard it all now. Please send this to ten friends and you'll have good luck. Don't break the chain. Help save little Billy and his burlap body. This really works, my brother's sister's cousin's uncle just made $42.50 by passing it forward, bro.

Well this one I forwarded. It's my one time stupid forward to all of you just to show you that I care. I promise not to do it anymore. I just couldn't help myself.

It looks like someone needs a hug. Seriously dude, get over it already. Get a bike and ride it around. Say hi to people you meet. It ain't that bad. Really.

And here is another totally lost soul. What the fuck is going on with this guy? This is what he considers evolutionary theory and also complete bunk.

1. Time, space, and matter came into existence by themselves. 2. Planets and stars formed from space dust. 3. Matter created life by itself. 4. Early life-forms learned to reproduce themselves. 5. Major changes occurred between these diverse life forms (i.e., fish changed to amphibians, amphibians changed to reptiles, and reptiles changed to birds or mammals).

Sound pretty straightforeward to me. I'm comfortable with it. Big ball floating around with us on it. Works for me. But, apparently not everyone thinks so.

Mr. Webmaster at this scary site claims, "No animal has ever been observed changing into any fundamentally different kind of animal." No shit. The process takes hundreds of thousands, if not millions of years. It's all part of evolutionary theory. You can't watch it happen down at the barnyard..

It's sort of like saying the Grand Canyon could not have possible been formed by the erosion process of water. Oh no. Impossible. Water could never do that. You can't observe water moving that much material in the lab, so it cannot possibly be true.

But, of course, the reality is that it took a great deal of time for the magic to happen. And it did happen, didn't it? Just because it took a long ass time doesn't mean its impossible.

I love how he's putting the prize money up for anyone who can "prove" evolution. Yeah, can you "prove" Christ rose from the grave and walked around? Can you even prove the guy died on the cross in the first place? Maybe he just passed out for awhile. Crucifixion didn't exactly equal death in those days.

There are examples of men being crucified and living through the experience. Really, I saw it on T.V. so it's got to be true. T.V. doesn't lie.

Here is my hypothesis. It's real simple.

A) you are an idiot.
B) you're still an idiot.
C) please refer to a and b.

Do I smell a Nobel Prize or what? Or is that something the Gnome is cooking?

And Peter Van Petegem of Lotto-Adecco wins the Omloop Het Volk for the third time. Click here for a pic and over here for the story at cyclingnews.com.

Friday, March 1, 2002

chrissy m   I   niki nova   I   luna lane

I need one of these fucked up wish list things. But mine would look a little more like this right here, but a single speed one like at the trade show. It was buns.

This site fucking rules. I don't know what else to say about it. Go check it out and I hope you don't have anything planned in the next half an hour or so.

In the "you've gotta be fucking kidding me" category, Frank Vandenbrouke fucked up. Again. Click here and then here to read some of the coverage at cyclingnews. And then over here is some more of the same at eurosport.

For velonews coverage of the same, click here.

God damn Vandenbrouke is a fucking idiot.

And that Sainz guy can suck a dick. Seriously. That pussy was singing like a fucking bird as soon as he got pulled over.

Here's how I see it. Sainz is driving around with a bunch of illegal shit in his car, and he's speeding. Not smart. He gets pulled over because that's what happens when you drive over the speed limit. Then his car gets searched because that's what happens once you've already done a few months in the pokey for drug possession. The guy already lucked out back in '99 when the case against him was dropped for lack of evidence. Does he learn from that and try to stay under the radar?

No, he doesn't learn anything. He drives around like an asshole with all types of shit in his car that will probably get him tossed in the slammer for a few years this time around. Faced with the reality of the situation, this classy guy starts naming names.

This stuff in my car? It's not mine, it's all for Frank Vanderbrouke.

Smooth, dude. Real smooth. You caved like a ten year old. You want to traffic in illegal drugs? Fine by me. I don't really give a shit if you sell weed, coke, or EPO. But know the risks.

If you get popped, you go on a little vacation. You go away for a while and cool your heels behind bars. That's how it works. That's why you can make so much money doing it.

Bye bye VDB. Have a nice time in jail.

I'm pissed off. I wanted to see Domo kicking the shit out of people this spring. And more precisely, I wanted to see VDB up at the front of things again. I thought the guy was a winner. I was wrong.

From: wayne Subject: VdB I think I know where you guys can pick up a really talented bike rider for the team, you just need to be able to deal with his habit. Being the tolerant minded guys you appear to be, he should fit right in, and you're accommodations might seem like a castle once he gets out of lock-down. You just got find him a connection for his smack. Seriously, this guy can't do a thing right. Now he's claiming all that shit was for his dog! That must be one fast fuckin' pooch! Keep up the good work, your site is A-1. Wayne

Yeah, even after all that, we'll offer VDB a place on the roster. It's a sweet deal. You buy your own bike, write drunkcyclist on a wife beater and pay your own way at the races. When you win, I'm your best friend. When you loose, I never knew ya.

But he's gonna have to give up that pussy EPO and Clebuteral shit. We expect our riders to indulge in performance ruining practices like drinking to much before a race. I want to see him getting loaded on beer and pain pills while riding a single speed. Fuck steroids, drink whiskey. Get it together, man. Marijuana, ecstasy, vacaden and alcohol. ( I can't even spell half this shit )

Can you feel it? Het Volk in one more day. All hell is about to break loose. I love the spring classics. Oh, the humanity. Maybe the rest of the Domo thug squad will do something really special and I can forget about VDB.