Obviously, theres not a whole lot Stanley cant handle.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 11:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We rallied, we raced, we ripped and roared. Jen, M.A., the one formerly known as Retodded, Demonika, Hightower, Burned Heart and myself all loaded up the wagons yesterday, and made our way to the promised land of Fort Ord. Imagine the Sea Otter race course, but better and without a soul in sight.

Backpacks full of beer and snacks were securely strapped to our backs and off into the horizon we rode.
Its a bit of a moonscape out there, you know, if the moon had Manzanita bushes, and bobcats running around.
The place is a gas..AND what did I find lying on the ground as I rode ahead to shoot some pictures?
Thats right.. A new pair of riding specs. Just as fate taketh away, fate givith back.
And lest I forget, I cant finish this post with out mentioning the fellow who had parked near us shortening his seat post with a sawzall he happened to have with him in his truck. Swiss Army knife? Naw- screw you. That man was REALLY prepared.
And lastly, my old pal Nat that I used to be messenger with emailed me, and sent me this. Looks like my mans been busy since he moved to Europe. I guess Im gonna be needing to save a bit more money. Again.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ive found a whole array of things while riding my bike. I now present to you a list thats as complete as my feeble mind can recollect.

1) giant silver thermos.

2) A varying array of pornography. Videos, magazines, some domestic, and some from Mexico.

3) An assortment of screwdrivers, wrenches, and a broken hammer.

4) The assistant district attorney of Oakland, whod just committed suicide. (That one sucked.)

5) A black sweater with a kitty knitted on the front, surrounded by flowers, wearing a collar with a real jungle bell attached, which I presented to my dirt bag cousin just before his band took the stage.

6) A single Defeet arm warmer,(blue).

7) White cotton panties, next to a giant, empty mayonnaise jar.

8) A group of the biggest, knuckle headed friends anybody could ever hope for.

9) A hopelessly lost Japanese family.

10) $15.00 cash money.

11) A rattlesnake that looked like it died in its sleep, a giant rattlesnake with no rattle, and a tiny baby rattlesnake.

12) In Yreka, (which is like, 2 feet from the California/Oregon boarder) and with god as my witness, Robert Ives and I saw a U.F.O.

14) You know those whistles that when you blow on them the go 'wwhhhheeeeeeeeeeooooooooohhhhhhh!'
Yeah, one off those.

15) A random assortment of toys, some broken, and some not.

16) Probably to date, a billion miles of pieces of weave. Seriously, if you live in Oakland, keep your eyes peeled. Little weave segments are all over the place, and have been since 1987.

17) A Polaroid of a large black woman in a t-shirt that said 'I love you to pieces'.

18) Four, single and right hand mountain bike gloves.

19) A giant, and I mean HUGE dead pit bull that looked like it died while walking. There used to be bad dog fighting problems in the Bay Area, and the losers would to get dumped in the hills.

20)A stack of Chick tracts. You know, those little brilliantly drawn comic books that are about how homosexuality will lead you to the devil, or alcohol is a tool of the devil, or the handsome, well built trucker, shows the dirty, fat trucker the path to Christ is the best one? I love those. They always make me laugh.

Anyhow, obviously some of this stuff was worth holding onto (porn, kitty sweater), while some of it was not (the dogs, the D.A., the gloves). I guess the point is, keep your eyes peeled cause there could be something cool under your next step.
The irony is after I started this, I had to go do some errands, and in the process lost my cool clear Zeal specs Gina Hall gave me when we were on the nationals circuit together. So there you go, my loss is somebody else gain, right?
If you find em, I got a mayonnaise jar/panty combo Ill trade you.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 08:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

With any luck you might find yourself living in a location where getting lost is an easily accessible activity. Well, not hopelessly lost, although thats alright too, but just lost in the sence that around every corner is a place where you can honestly say youve never seen before.

On Christmas eve morning, while wheeling about a redwood wonderland that is basically my back yard, I zigged, where I usually zag, thinking it was simply a detour around a rooty, rocky punisher of a climb, and found myself, an hour later still riding in places my tires have never before tread.
Today I returned to explore and started thinking about how important it is to have a place to explore. The population is continuing to explode, and I fear that one day in my lifetime, the possibility to disappear will go away. I rolled all around today and never crossed the same piece of single track twice. I found some game trails, almost fell into a creek a couple of times, and aside from running into Hunter and Woody the hound dog, which was a nice surprise, I never saw a soul.
If you can get away for a while today, do us both a favor, and go have your own expedition. Where you usually go right, go left, or where you usually go up, go down. You never know what you might find.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 08:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So as proof of my newly acquired technological aptitude, heres a scan of the one formerly known as Retodded, and myself rope swinging.

The swing was very scary, and ended with us narrowly avoiding being crushed against a tree.
I WANNA GO AGAIN!

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

And does that say 'CIA' on the side of that stealthy, stealthy helmet? The black helicopters were chasing him even then.
Yo Duke, lemme borrow dem specs.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 09:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Yeah, you know the rest.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Last night saw the return of Ms. Sheldons annual secret Santa Christmas party. I spent every year there for as long as I can remember, though last year was canceled due to Big Dave hiding hard boiled eggs all over the house the previous year.
Anyhow, the rules are simple. You draw a number for each gift you contribute, then you pick a gift according to where you are in the numerical order. The higher number you draw, the better chance you have to ether pick new a present, or take a present away from another participant. Since last year didnt happen, everyone had a really crappy stash to unload. Although Fenton walked away with what was easily the worst of the bunch, Dominic drew the short straw, and had to ride back to San Francisco in the back of the pickup truck. His life was bummer indeed.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We here on the bad side of the tracks of the Swobo camp, would like to wish the most very sincere of happy holiday greetings to all of you, and yours this season.
I hope you get super bitchen presents, and stuff.
Cause stuffs rad, right?

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 03:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The text for the Daryl hat has seen it's first entry. Young Ryan gets a Bud Tall....

Posted by Tim Parr at 08:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sit back and open your minds to the history of BMX as seen through the eyes of Techno-Nankai, makers of high quality BMX hubs.

Introduction of FREECOASTER of TECHNO NANKAI.

Freestyle game of BMX could begin and “TECHNO NANKAI” of the maker of Coaster Brake has produced Freecoaster more.
The original BMX was California in the United States and its downhill game before producing MTB was in use.
This rider was the children in the first half of the 10th generation, did the downhill of the gently-sloping hill, and was enjoying it like take-off run of skiing.
Their father was there and children were aided.
Then, this downhill play developed into BMX game.
Coaster Brake of Nankai was used for the bicycle of this downhill.
Then, a downhill game is gradually asked for difficulty at change and a course, and the jump and the curve were attached.
This BMX game became that in which a difficult technique and courage are increasingly happily and thrillingly.
Now, BMX is a speed game, a flat land game and a street, a park, dirt, Bart, and a half pipe…
BMX has induced various games and play.
A game of MTB and a trial game are also games born by BMX.
BMX produced in California developed the bicycle race greatly, and gave us pleasure.
BMX and MTB will be looked at by the Olympic Games.
Thus, the children of a generation who enjoyed the downhill having become an adult, and it having been more deep and having enlarged pleasure of BMX highly and widely in respect of soft, supported developed BMX game.
And they are efforts of people who have manufactured with the bicycle optimum in respect of being hard for various games, development of parts, and research.
TECHNO NANKAI of coaster brake maker with the history for 80 years has continued production of freecoaster with development of BMX.
By flat land game of BMX freestyle, it accepts to a pro class rider, and raised Nankai freecoaster has 98% of the approval rating of the bicycle for a game of BMX flatland in Japan.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 12:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Not being a professional journalist like myself, you couldnt begin to understand the level of competition that exists in this business. There are young up and comers appearing out of the wood work every day, leaving me fighting tooth and nail for my status in the industry.
I now present to you two such examples. Young Roan and Aster are here to present their view of this past weekends Cyclocross Nationals in Providence Rhode Island. Its the existence of young guns like these that keeps my nights sleepless.

ROAN - age 5

When I got to the cyclocross, my Dad and I went up a really big, big, big hill and then we crossed the cyclocross track thing and then Dad got some food and I had hot apple cider. And, one bike was green, and one was red, and one was yellow, and one was multi-colored.

When I was watching the bikes, they went around a corner really fast and they jumped over two boards. And one guy jumped over one and then his back bike wheel tripped off the second board and then his chain fell off of his bike then he put it back on and started racing again and that was pretty much it.

The bike riders had suits on.

............................

ASTER - age 9

I'm Aster and I would like to tell you about my experience of when I saw the cyclocross championships in Providence. When I got there I thought it would be boring but I was sure wrong. When I saw bikers I watched them. I thought it was interesting. We next travelled to a different part where there were tents. A man gave me a free hat and another gave me a cowbell which originally cost $6.79! I was starting to have fun when I realized I was hungry. I think the ATM saved my life. I was glad to see that I had money for lunch. Finally we could eat. We went in to a tent labeled BEER TENT. There we got the most delicious pulled chicken sandwich. (My brother took an eentsy taste and didn't like it). After the food we went to get our bikes out of the car. When we returned we made it just in time for open track. It was too crowded so we waited for the next race. Finally it started. We saw them start off and my Dad and I were astonished. They were going soooo fast! We travelled to a part of the race where they had to get off their bikes and jump over jumps. One rider stayed on his bike and jumped over them ON his bike. "Wow" I shouted. I wished I hadn't left my cowbell in the car while I was going to get my bike so I clapped as loud as I could. I have to tell you I saw the muscles in the mens and womens legs. One guy fell off his bike but I was wordless when I saw him fix his chain and start riding again like it never happened. We saw about 3 times the riders go over the jumps. Then we left after a long fun exciting day at the cyclocross championships.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 12:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ask anybody who knows me, (there are a few who will begrudgingly admit to it), and they will tell you that I will wear pants until they disintegrate.

Im here to announce a truth. Even if I wasnt getting paid a handsome six figure salary from Swobo Inc. Co. LLC, I would tell you the honest deal. The new knickers rule above all. Im like Eazy E (God rest his soul). I like my pants to hang a touch. Many years ago, the first generation Swobo Knickers didnt do a thing for me, and as much as I tried, I couldnt get them to feel right. In fact one time, I karate kicked and blew the whole crotch out. Not so with these. Ive been karate kicking all over the damn place, and much to the pleasure of everyone around me, the crotch of my pants is still intact. I dont want to ever take them off. Not even to bathe. My Ben Davis shins are sitting in the corner with jealous eyes.

To further illustrate my point, here is a picture of me karate kicking my Christmas shrub. Take that, little Charlie brown tree!

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 02:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

David Gill and his band of ner-do-wells that call themselves the Santa Cruz County Cycling Club have done it again. The series is also known as 'The Glutton for Punishment Cross Series', and with God as my witness, Ill happily back that title up.

My blood sugar is falling fast so this reports going to be as fractured, if not more so then the usual drivel that spills forth from my index fingers.
There was a race, lots of mud was present, and we got to ride repeatedly through two substantial piles of, what, cow manure? Maybe there was some horse dung in there as well- I couldnt taste the difference.

I just missed watching a woman break her collarbone, I saw the D.J. Grant Stoner, dismount, run by the sound system, change the song, and remount to return to the race, the young ones were killing it all over the place, there were delicious burritos available after the race,
Rick Hunter rides a fixie better then most ride regular bikes, and Ill never understand how it is that no matter how many times I poo before a race, I always have to again seconds before the start.
Gotta shower, gotta sleep.
Come out and play.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 11:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The race looks miserable, and the music makes my hangover worse.

Last night was a gas. Brain Vernor debuted his new film about the cycling culture surrounding the Santa Cruz Bikes company entitled 'We just work here', Burned heart outdid himself. Again. Some certain Swobo bikes made their first appearance on the scene, and right in the neighborhood of 20,000 cans of Budweiser were consumed. Hows that saying go? 'The liver is evil and must be punished', or something like that. Lastly, lest I forget, the 2007 peak season cyclocross series starts tomorrow. All the info that youll need can be found here.
Happy Hellidays, indeed.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 03:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Normally a photo like this would be accompanied by well thought out line of text explaining a keen story. No dice.

It's really late. I spent the night with Stevil. My corns are starting to act up. I have to go. Wallow in the enjoyment of seeing Stevil Kinevil in his element.

Posted by Tim Parr at 09:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

OK....first HTATBL beligerent to send me the graphic from Keith's pro skateboard, gets something sweet.

Posted by Tim Parr at 09:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

OK...It's Xmas...and it was the annual Xmas party tonight. Here's Mark Weir pumping his way through a hazy Santa Cruz evening.

Posted by Tim Parr at 09:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by at 04:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I drank some drinks this evening, so forgive the fact that this post will most assuredly have some issues.
Jason is a super secret spy for the U.S government, and was among the first of The Clowns. They were like the Amigos, but like, ten years earlier, and with way more pot, and cocktails.
In his inital email, he included the fact that he wore original issue Swobo socks the entire series. Whether or not they were ever washed remains open to speculation.

Synopsis:
race 1 - conyers: epic course HUGE! historic - this is where the 96
Olympics were held (MTBike - Susan DMatte, the whole shebang) got lapped
and pulled just at the finish line before my last lap -- "what the..."
finished like 3rd to last. Sweet! Laurens brothers were in the house -
they loved it.

race 2 - Augusta (Disgusta) - rain, stupid grass and pavement course 43
cm barriers (too high - over regulation) one very harry turn each lap.
lost my chain - it got wedged in the damn cranks, cursing in the rain as
a gaggle of riders passed me. never recovered. finished 2nd to last (I
thank the other guy for showing.)

race 3 Ft Yargo: this is the hottest new venue in our riding world -
place I rode the Colorado voodoo last weekend. hard course, great start
got caught in a crash, blew up chasing back recovered . fastest lap was
my last (check the lap times) 3rd to last (glory!). Sprint finish, threw
up. Went out and bought a new couch. ate steak, drank gin. Awesome.

race 4 Monroe: GREAT course - double dismount diaaaatch was a
beeeaaatch. it was back and forth between me and two other guys, I dug
in and spit one of them out the back. 4th to last - excellent. Spit
white crusty foam.

race 5 Marietta - JIM MILLER PARK (hows that for close to home?) did
this one in reverse a few years ago. this one had a SICK run up - and
the massive DH single track section. The up and down were my strong
spot. -- especially the UP. Passed one guy I've been chasing all season.
It went like this: Me: "track" Him: Silent block Me: "track - on your
left " Him: nothing, at the top he looked back nervous... and slipped
getting into his pedal, passed him, the shouts of anguish could be heard
in Belgium, he gave up and DNFed. Bastard, I would have had that place.
4th to last (really 5th but except for that guy being a massive pussy. I
cant talk though because he races the masters race too some weeks, and
he's still WAY ahead of me in the overall standings) Stacy and Bill came
to the race. They did not really get it till I took them around the
course to watch the A race. The run up blew their minds!

6 and 7 are the state final, and the season final. both double points. I
am in....37th place out of 58 racers. You mean it pays to show up and
race the Mens B? Aww yeah - tha's me. :) Also the morning hot tubs
really have helped. Fuck being stiff and cold. Stiff and cold are for my
cock and a gin martini, respectively, not for the start of a race!

speaking of stiff and cold, have you seen the new Bond yet - I hear its
the shit...
-J
All the cross results you could ever want on le directeur
Clicky make you go

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 02:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Surly Hurly just sent me this bit of weirdness. Years ago wed buy model cars and make them look like steaming heaps with duct tape on the seats, and rusty primer spots...anything to contradict the shiny pimp mobiles on the box. Perhaps this is what we would have ended up doing if we hadnt discovered sex.

Now then, a word from our homie-

Zen-adrenaline

1st off, just sharing that subject line, because though I may be quoting something or someone I heard forever ago, I don´t remember ever hearing those two words paired, and in describing what a proper singletrack mountain bike ride feels like, I´ve never summed up so much with so little.

2ndly. Thanks for your blog. I had been working at bike shops around the bay area (SCruz, SFrancisco) for about 5 years, when I decided it was time to change it all for a roll of the dice and go teach english in south america. Bringing my mountain bike with me, of course. You always miss things from home when you are so far abroad, and I never realized how much I loved, bathed in, and took for granted what it was to be immersed in bike culture. Especially working and living in SF, being surrounded by all sorts of passionately raving lunatics, usually ravingly passionately about their bikes and bike styles. It might get tiring at times when craigslist classifieds are taken up by people screaming at each other about fixies, but its good to be in a land where toys are taken so seriously. Toys should always be serious pursuits.

I´ll be back, I´ll be back to ride singletrack, and I´ll be back to work on trails. Responding to your article on trail maitenance: There is mountain biking here. (bikemontt.cl) there is no trail maintenance, no trail building. People ride the dirt fireroads the govt. builds. Long, flat, full of loose scree, or climbing a slope and eroding "mas rapido que la chucha" (really fucking quickly) that´s all we got. No singletrack. No swooping turns on decents or climbs. None o that. So I´ll be back, shovel in hand, and I give thanks to everyone who´s taken time to work on a trail. Because long straight fireroads with loose and eroding climbs are good enough for a workout. But there really aint much zenadrenaline.

Thanks for reminding me, on a near daily basis, of how good it is to be us. And the laughs. poopdolf is my new desktop background to shock the other teachers. Merry Christmas.

.dayton

puerto montt,
Chile

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 02:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Its all right here..

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 01:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Now, while I understand that for me to refer to a man wiser than I am, it could be argued that the man to whom I am referring could be lying in a vegetative state within the confines of a mental health facility, or washing his hands in a stream of his own urine beneath the overpass.

However in this case, the wise man in question is, without a doubt a sharp tack. Bill Lindsey is his name, and he was a fixture in Bay Area bike shops for as long as Ive lived here. He was fond of saying, "bikes are like friends. You cant have too many nice ones." This is a truth that Ive held near and dear to my heart since the words fell into my ear holes. Perhaps inspired by this knowledge he dropped so many years ago, Ive made it a pursuit to not only have nice bikes, and nice friends, but nice bikes built by nice friends.
My only wish is that the number of N.F.W.B.N.B (nice friends who build nice bikes) would soon plateau. Not a day passes that I dont find a new mate whos passion for building is eclipsed only by my passion for collecting.
And so it goes, my collection grows, while my bank account dwindles. Even still, not too shabby a trade off, if you ask me.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 02:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

The day stated like most race days for me do. Rolling out of bed and wondering when Im supposed to be there.
(De)Monika and I ate some breakfast, and watched cartoons right over the top of my race start. Fair enough. Its raining, and Im lethargic, but that doesnt mean the girl has to miss hers.

We arrive, its really muddy, lots of people are falling down, Mike the announcer is providing the most sexually charged commentating Ive ever heard. "Look at the definition of her powerful thighs, pumping.., thrusting..., the sheer strength of her perfectly formed buttocks is unrelenting..." Im only slightly exaggerating here.
Anyhow, the race was full of racers, and some people won, which was good for them. Then there was the others that lost, and that sucks. Ben Jacques-Maynes returned to his roots, and killed it on a one speed and everybody was wearing rubber boots.

By far, my favorite story of the day was about young Thomas. Hes been saving money for an extraordinarily long time in order to go to Belgium for the Worlds with his dad and brother. Well, at a race a few weeks ago, we were out in force with hand fulls of dollar premes, when one of the dollars had gotten torn in half.

Seeing young Thomas sitting there, and feeling like my usual ornery self, I presented him with the half dollar and probably told him something like 'dont spend it all in one place', and walked away. I glanced back to see him looking at the half dollar in his hand. My heart swelled like the Grinches, and I returned to give him the second half. Well Ill be damned if he didnt approach me yesterday, and tell me that he had saved something like $1199.00 and that dollar was the last one he needed to pay for his trip.
Im now known world wide as the philanthropist who sends young racers to Europe. Obviously my future in race reporting is looking kinda dim...I gotta have something to fall back on.

Again, I cant neglect to offer hearty thanks for the whole Velo Belarmy for their tireless efforts in putting these events on. Its truly a thankless job, and they do an outstanding job at it.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 03:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Its Captain Bring-me-down here, with another installment of woe. Remember a couple of weeks back, Big Steve P. penned a blurb about how folks on bikes should lift their collective heads up, and give a hello to fellow cyclists every now and again? Well, I have a tale that makes not saying hello, seem like a hug from a long lost friend in comparison.

Last week, young Garen ventured out on a relaxing mid afternoon lunch ride on his newly painted cross bike in a lovely local plot of land thats chuck full of single track, and adventure. As hes climbing up the hill, an overly testosteroned, full suspension riding galloot came blasting around a blind corner and smashed into him head on. Upon impact, Garens front tire blew, and knocked him aside. As they were standing there assessing the situation, Galloot asked, 'dude, do you need a ride?' to which Garen responded 'do you have a car near by? Galloot replied 'no...uh, I dont.' Garen said 'well what are you gonna give me a ride out on?' when Galloot interupted -'Dude, look at your frame!!' Garen stood there in shock, attempting to make heads or tales of what had just happened when Galloot exclaimed, 'sorry dude...good luck', and took off down the trail. First of all, using 'dude' that much is the first of this knuckle heads faults, but crashing into another trail user, disabling them, destroying their bike, and then fleeing the scene with a 'good luck'?! Im no soothsayer, but I feel as though there is a bottle of urine that will be mistaken for a beer in this guys future. Especially if I have anything to say about it.
Ironically enough, I suffered a double flat earlier in the day in the very same location, and as I was walking down the road, bike on shoulder, and tire hanging pathetically from my rim, a fellow on a road bike, casually rode by me, gave me a little glance, and continued on. You dont suppose it could have been the same guy, just out to ruin a few folks days, do you?

Now here comes the non-sequitur that youve come to expect from me... Speaking of frustration, Ive tracked down a video that depicts just how deep the turmoil in Iraq has gotten. Its a sad, sad state over there.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 01:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click HERE! to check it out...

I've always said that Swobo is built on the beliefs and creativity of those people out there in the real world doing cool stuff. .... we're just happy to be here. Check out Pete Macks teaser to the Swobo movie starring Mel Gibson, Michael Richards, and Gary Coleman.

Posted by Tim Parr at 11:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I jumped on the computer this morning to find out any information about James Kim,
and the first thing I found were two articles that came up immediately on the Google news home page.
One being 'How to appreciate death metal', and the other being 'How to bunny hop'.
'Huh', I thought. 'Not exactly what I was looking for, but Ill peruse this for a moment.'

Both articles were pretty good, but not what I wanted to know about.
Truth be told, I was pretty broken hearted when I finally read about the Kim familys ordeal. I thought all day about the level of desperation a man would have to feel in order to abandon his family to seek help, only to eventually realize that by doing so, hed sealed his own fate. I couldnt tell you why this has stuck with me as it has. I dont know the family, and only know as much as the next guy reading the news paper.. Simply said, my thoughts go out to the Kims.....Tonight Ill have a drink in James name.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 03:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Bundle up folks, and get your wine glass holding pinkie fingers raised.

On Saturday December 9th, two very chilly towns will be having photo shows you wont want to miss.
First, The HUB Providence will be displaying the works of our own wonder kid, and 'Pure Sweet Hell' co-producer, Brian Vernor, in conjunction with The US Cyclocross National Championships. Take note that while Brians show opens on the 9th, the reception is going to be in the 16th. Go there and pet his magnificent beard.
Then, due West-ish in Minneapolis, You should check out Caroline Yangs installation of Tour photos on display at One on One Studio in the heart of the warehouse district. Dont forget your mittens. Youre gonna need em.

And of course, as youd expect from me, heres a completely unrelated tidbit for your pleasure.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 02:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Visiting Taiwan for for work has it good times and bad.
The first time(s) you're there, you wonder about the 12 foot cube with 3 sides in glass with the little flashing red lights on them. As the car you're captive in the back seat rolls by, there is the drive-by glimpse of an underclad woman sitting at a counter inside.

Your mind goes through this train of logic:girl in lingerie in box on side of road = hot action for sale. But where? Its a glass cube! How does this work? Curiousity only, you understand. Upon inquiry to the host, the anticlimatic revlations is revealed that its a Betel Nut shack. A local treat! Let's get some then! After stopping and paying a few Taiwan dollars for a small box from the short skirted honey, you end up with a few olive-looking beans that you chew on. The napkin-lined dixie cup aforementioned action included in the sale is reserved for the copious amount of saliva that you now feel compelled to eject. The napkin already stashed in the bottom of the cup so your spit just doesn't wallow around while driving just smacks of good customer service. But wait, is that my throat closing up? I can describe this mild panic is running into your folks while you're on acid. The person who helped get you this is still driving the car, waiting for your reaction. You play it cool. Headrush. Breathing feels weird. Spit. Betel Nut. Good times.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 02:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Posted by at 04:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

If you think the cockles of your heart can handle it, sit right back and youll hear an endearing tale straight from our Canuck correspondent.
Kevin is my new lucky number.

Steve-o,

Hat works like a charm, Brother. I've been wearing it out for some great wet, winter rides up here in Calgary, Canada. The weekend was above zero and slushy and I got on my roadie and put in 3.5 hours, feelin' fall-fast in my wool cap and knee warmers. ZING-zing-ZING-zing-zing-zing-zing, if ya know what I mean. Sits up there nice and good, and if the wind picks up, I fold down the flaps and all is solid. I feel like Johan Museuw in this thing.

So, here's a story on the Bummerlife. On Halloween, I really didnt want to go out, I was kinda feeling a bit heavy hearted regarding some girl issues, and I thought I'd just stay in and watch the 2006 Paris-Roubaix again, cause that Steve, is how I roll. But some pals talked me into going out and I had to throw a costume together. So I hucked on a pair of Dickies shorts, a dress shirt and plaid tie, some argyl socks, my Swobo hat and then elasticked some old soccer club crest to the hat. Boo-yah. 'English School Boy' in ten minutes. People kept asking me if I 'was Angus Young from ACDC', and I'd go, 'yeah, and I'm about to rock so salute me, MoFo.'

I proceeded to get very, very drunk and was not living the Bummerlife. And just when I'm having a killer time, I get this tap on my shoulder and its my ex, the girl that was puttin' me in turmoil. She's there with some other dude, and just two weeks after trying to get me to give it a second go around, which I wasnt certain on cause I'd chased this chick for about ten months before that, I was a young fool Steve, and she makes this big show of bein' with this dude.

And yeah, it wasnt his fault, or a big deal at all, but I'm a red-blooded guy and a bit of a romantic, emotive fella, and I was fucking hammered too, so I got upset and said some bad things, and made some minor, light, 'haha' comments to the dude about 'breaking him in half' and essentially made a total ass of myself in front of all these people. And then kept on getting drunk, in a kind of miserable state though.

When, suddenly, lo and behold, the Mighty Flemish Power of that wool cap