Too drunk to type

by

How many ways can I say I just don’t give a fuck.

I’m not asking. I’m telling.

I spent the night out in the garage fucking around with a few of the bikes with a bottle of Plink for company. It was cold, so I wore clogs. Ever the fashion leader, I fully expect to be recognized as such. And soon

The best part is I’m too drunk to type. Well, not really. But it sounds fun. More fun than I put back a few shots by myself in the garage while my wife and daughter were in bed and I rocked out on my ipod. Because that just sounds like I’m some boring thirty-something loser with zero in the life department.

What can I say – bikes keep me sane. There ain’t much else to it.

I put some pedals on my Moser and ran through the gears. I’m in love with her. I took a good hard look at one of my wife’s two mountain bikes and then moved it to a different spot on a different wall. I’m not sure if she likes that one much any more. I suppose I should ask her at some point. Not that I have any problem with her having two mountain bikes. She could have three or four and I wouldn’t mind.

In fact, I’d be fucking stoked.

I found a front wheel I had been running on my Voodoo cross bike and swiped it for my Kona mountain bike. Big tire on a road rim. Good times. I’ll be riding that to work in the a.m. I’m on the “different bike for every day of the week” plan.

So far, so good.

I put a front wheel on my Surly (the one I planted in a storm grate) and hung it up. I need to either re-build the rear wheel or sort out something else from my pile of (shit) parts. There are other wheels that would work just find, but man, this is a chance to lace me up a little something something. I might even lace up a new front wheel so the rims match.

Big Gay Randy laughed at that one. I think he thinks I’m nuts. Maybe he’s on to something? Whatever. He’s on his way to Tucson. Right now for all I know. He’ll be hanging with Big M, Jackass and the Gnome, putting in those miles, soaking up the sun, eating bas ass Mexican food and knocking back cold ones on 4th Ave.

I’ve never been more pissed about anything in my entire life.

I got a look at the new Fox 29er fork this week. And by look I mean I received and price tagged them. Then I pushed one of them up and down and held it for a minute. It looks to be every bit as nice of a fork as what Fox has been offering for the past few years, which is to say, it’s probably the best fork money can buy right now.

Me? Both of my two niners have a rigid fork. Why? Because they’re friggin’ cheap. And I am too. Also, as an added plus, when I do find a way to budget my inevitable investment in a nice fork, I’ll be buying disc brakes and then buying (or building) the requisite disc compatible wheelset.

At this point, I’d be better off just buying an entire bike.

Someone asked me the other day about the rigid one speed I rolled up on. I said, yeah, the only thing I have to do to that bike it squeeze the tire to see if it needs air. You cannot have a lower maintenance bike. I love it.

by