This here beast of a race flyer is that of the upcoming Stuporbowl bash thats gonna be taking place in Minneapolis directly. Were sending a slew of goodies out to these dirts, and by the looks of the logo explosion on the flyer, were gonna be in good company.
Now lookie here. This is a prime example of not only child abuse, but an unabashed look of how to train a youngin' to be an asshole.
Seconds later he ran over a tiny bicyclist, and fled the scene to naptime.
Well now present to you another beaut of a race flyer for the second annual Grand Theft Velo race.
Well be plugging this for the next few months until its time for the starting shot to go off.
Ifin you get an itch, you can find a bit more info about this here.
We might as well keep the good times rolling and let you all know about a good time thats brewing in Pittsburgh.
Its not confirmed how much stripping will actually be involved. Its a might bit cold in them parts, and everyone should remember to take shinkage into account.
This doenst have anything to do with strippers or shrinkage, aside from the fact that strippers as well as folks experiencing shrinkage both rely on garbage men, but our friend Griffin who actually is a garbage man as well as a deeply committed bike nerd writes a pretty compelling blog about the stuff he finds that folks have grown tired of and kicked to the curb.
Dig it. I Am Throwing Your Life Away.
And away from the garbage we go, headlong into George's loving embrace;
"wow dude,
we are having one hell of a winter! the bikes have been lookin great on the rack in the garage.
I've gotten on the trainer twice and each time watched videos. Not MASH, but Lakai's fully flared. dude
Koston, Mariano, johnson, damn. besides the reason Mash is so good is because it was made by skaters.
Plus my balls went completely numb.
Well anyway. had an epic roadtrip over to the boat under a clear sky with a full moon then sick pow pow to enable the gnar to be shredded. we found colorado's most racist man in Steamboat and strangely, he was from Texas. who woulda thought.
enjoy some pics of my fish, ski trips!, when Ted Nugent goes down the wrong hole, when there's a dwarf invasion, becoming best friends with the most racist dude from texas in colorado, pregaming in the bathroom with neon and fringe, Our friend Mexi's emo penis piercing and high times poster boy (get irie mon, boom boom).
Shit dude we're all cabin fevered out on this weather and have resorted to double secret drinking and hittin the slopes for some good ole Apres skiing. what does it all mean? we don't know, but we will have a definitive answer after this fucked up weekend of ballyhoo and booze.
we'll keep you posted.
love,
george"
Firstly I have to say I dont know specifically what George and Company are on, but I want a bite. Secondly I need to say that as much as I attempt to never censor anything anyone ever sends in, the final shot of Rainbow Brite and the trail of bile had to get cropped, due to a knuckle rapping I received last year for posting a photo of a young lady and what appeared to be a shotgun blast of Spaghetti-Os.
If you are the kind of debased individual who would like to see what youre missing, email me and Ill send you the unedited version.
The pessimist in me says the week is halfway over. The optimist in me says the week is halfway begun. Ether way it means its Wednesday, which is the midweek Friday, which is all the way good.
About 14 years ago I raced mountain bikes fairly often, and for the following few years thought of myself as one of the fast guys. I certainly wasnt one of the fastest guys mind you, as that role was generally filled, as it still is by Rick, Cam the punk ass kid, Norm, Blacksocks, Darin, Matt and a handful of other notables, but I had the distinct honor of at the very least capturing a top five spot in all of the events I engaged in. Though I wasnt training in the traditional sense, I was putting in a retarded amount of miles weekly to maintain my spot in the bottom of the top.
One race in particular found me standing at the start line next to Robert Ives, (who also had his time as one of the fastest folks ever to throw his leg over a one speed), and I was reflecting on the three hours of sleep wed had the night before and the fact that I was still drunk.
The starting shot rang out, and as I was riding I realized that the inebriation was actually allowing me to forget about the pain of the race, and concentrate wholly on not vomiting. That event in particular, if memory serves netted me a third place, and the opportunity to yet again momentarily bask in my tough-guyness.
The remaining seasons were a blur of near victories and crossed eyes until I found myself duking it out with 150 some odd single speeders at the second SSWC in Rancho Cucamonga in our lords year of 1999. Feeling pretty high on myself I was picking folks off left and right, and midway through the race Travis Brown blew passed me with such force, he messed my hair up.
Right then and there, just how small a fish I was, was made abundantly clear to me. Travis absolutely hands my ass to me, and the Euros at the time were in turn doing a pretty keen job of handing Travis's ass to him.
In the years since, Ive bounced in and out of race seasons like a transient on a pogo stick but have never found the near glory I once was accustomed to. New, extraordinarily fast faces were filling the starting line, and the old ones were with more regularity fading away. Ill still get out and punish myself in a cross race now and again, or take my place along side a new crop of fitter, and faster single speed class, looking down their breath-rite stripped noses at me, wondering who the old guy who smells of beer and bacon is.
'Here- have this platter' I gesture. 'Youll be presenting my ass to me on it soon enough.'
Every day is a chance for a new foot to be put forward.
Last week was one better off forgotten. Thursday in particular was one for the record books of crap.
In a matter of less then an hour I was notified that some ner-do-well had defrauded one of my credit cards, and in a single gesture of incredible stupidity actually had the merchandise theyd purchased sent to me.
Then came the phone call from Dr. Heavy Hands notifying me that Im to be scheduled for a colonoscopy. Now Im not entirely sure what that is but Im fairly certain it involves a look being taken of parts of my body that no one should ever see, and was most likely inspired by acts of the Spanish Inquisition.
I figured what the hell- why not schedule a tax audit and a trip to the DMV on the same day and really knock one out of the park?
Then Friday found The Skipper down for the count with some kind of hangover-esque/food poisoning/wishing-for-death type of bug and me solo at the helm, filling orders, answering phones, building bikes, and returning emails.
When it rains it really does seem to pour, you know?
Oh yeah, and it actually was raining on top of it all.
In buckets.
It reminded me of a time in college when I had experienced the single most emotionally and physically grueling days of my young life. I returned to the domicile I shared with five women, where I was living in a tiny crawl space beneath the stairs after returning from a trip to Europe. I just wanted to take a bath then fold myself into my sleeping quarters and make it all go away.
Standing in the bathtub, I flicked the light off, and received a bone shattering electrical shock which brought me to my knees, and then moments later, to uncontrollable laughter.
'That would just be the icing on the cake' I thought. Surviving the worst day of my life and I get to finish it off by being found dead, and naked by my team of female housemates.
It made me realize that no matter how bad it gets, it can always get worse, which really, for all intent and purposes can sometimes make for a fairly succinct mantra.
In as far as maintaining your own good days however, for the next month or so it might not be a bad idea to wear a helmet when youre out and about.
You know, the damnedest thing is that 24 hours before I read this article, I had a dream about a satellite falling to Earth and landing in Los Angeles ether at a museum, or at the airport.
There- remember my soothsaying should this come to fruition.
Were now gonna reel back and pop you in the mouth with a PSA, Swobo style.
I cant seem to make their website work for me, but maybe you can by going here.
While were on the topic of public service announcements, we got an email from a bloke attempting to get a steed back home to its owners loving embrace;
"I bought a what must be stolen Scott CR1 road bike
off of a homeless guy yesterday for $40 near 16th
and Valencia. Can you pass the message around in
the Aids/Life Cycle/bike nerd circle and see if it belongs to
anyone?
I'd like to get it back to the rightful owner.
Thanks,
Matt Leonard
415-310-4388"
Thanks Matt. Thats mighty neighborly of you.
This weekend brought the meeting of the minds together and the JMac knickers namesake modeled for us the 2009 edition Swobo JMac knicker. We now present to you the first spy photos available anywhere.
Hows about a Monday fashion dont?
A long sleeved t-shirt tucked into his pants, two wiener dogs and yes, that sure is a fanny pack.
The line between fashion donts and fashion dos is a fine one.
Im like the David Hockney of rainy day commutes.
So this weekend brought inspiration of epic proportions when TB, JMac and myself decided it would be a good idea to spike some unknowing strangers shopping cart with our own grocery list, ala Found Magazine. No telling if its still going to be as funny when the effects of the weekends bender wears off.
I subtly stashed the list in a cart, and just as I documented it, I noticed a young couple noticing me noticing them noticing me. As we were departing the scene, I saw that they had in fact picked the cart wed stashed the list in so we sent TB in snap a shot of them, as my cover had already been blown.
She said they kept giving her the stink eye, so it was the best she could do to take a picture from behind the apple pile.
At some point over the course of the weekend, the previously mentioned TB took delivery of a fully trimmed ladies Otis, which shes planning on riding the hell out of some city streets on.
Shes a happy girl, that one.
Speaking of city streets, it just occurred to me that theres a pretty interesting clip thats just been put up over on Commute By Bike (dot)com where Tim Grahl interviews El Corpo, Brad Quartuccio, and Tim “Masi Guy” Jackson about various points concerning, for lack of a better term, the urban cycling revolution thats beginning to take place, and how we might get even more folks to look at the bicycle in a way that (however 'new' it might seem to the staus quo) weve known all along.
Weve been away from the WTF Awards for a while, due to the fact that I just havent found anything worthy, but then it turns out it was the lull before the storm, as this article came along and won one of the all time grandest WTF Awards in history.
The prize Tomas Delgado will receive is a party.
You know- a blanket party.
TB told me about the freaks at God Hates Fags plan to protest Heath Ledgers funeral because of his portrayal of a gay cowboy in Brokeback Mountain. We decided that it might be a good spot to enact our plan to join said protest with my previously mentioned scheme.
I decided to scrap the idea for a picket sign declaring that God hates anything specific, but to just cover all bases with a sign that simply declares;
'GOD HATES HELLA STUFF'.
Their whole schtick boggles the mind, but what is also really amazing to me is just how much money they must spend on airfare to spread 'Gods word'.
I suspect for making fun of them, I too have bought a one way ticket to eternal damnation, though for that matter if nutjobs like them are going to Heaven, I want absolutely nothing to do with the place.
Its safe to assume that if I actually am going to end up in Hell, Ill be in good company as Captain Dave sent this bit of good news our way;
"Where I grew up, you got a new number for each race. Pin, suffer, un-pin, drink. It was simple. When I moved to Oregon, I noticed it was different, here, the governing bodies issue each racer one cloth number, and each racer uses that number for the duration of the season. When renewal time comes around, you have dibs on your last year's number if you renew by a certain time.
I chose my last year's number.
I was denied.
The governing bodies within OBRA (and a well placed envelope-stuffing teammate/volunteer) saw fit to change my number, without notifying me, but I am not upset. Nor mad. Nor sullen. I am ecstatic and giddy. Why, you ask? Why is a curmudgeonly mid 30's Cat 4 packfodder idiot happy? Because the racing association assigned me number 666. Mine, forever.
I called Satan and told him the news, and he said he'd send me a vintage Eddy Merckx frame, painted in rouge flames, in honor of this moment.
No Dr. Evil jokes, please."
See? good things really do happen to bad people...and speaking of racing bikes- some people raced their bikes this weekend, but we sure the hell didnt, and thats alright with us.
Thats about all from this end-
Have a good Monday everybody.
We know for certain That Dave will.
Among other things, Fridays a good day for puppet noisecore.
A tip o' the hat to Crza for sending this in, and an apology as it seems to have momentarily gotten lost in the shuffle. Truly a crime, as it needs to be shared with the world.
According to the folks who originally posted this- "this video has been edited, they were actually drumming much faster than that." Crash Worship would be proud.
Lets get this Friday kicked off right with some art of the non-sucking variety, by the masterful hand of James Jean.
Ashleys always keeping us in touch with the good stuff. If you want to take a peek into what blows my mind, spend some time looking through his collections of sketchbooks.
That chit makes my world go 'round.
Much like taking a trip into an artists studio, you get a glimpse at the process, rather then the finished work, which often times you might find within the sterile confines of a gallery or museum. I dont know what it is about it, but it does, and always has spoken volumes to me.
I just plucked this sickening saga from the DrunkCyclist. All I have to say is that I hope she has a nice stay in the tank, and upon her release, gets sterilized.
And as a cherry on this cake, Id like to extend a very warm welcome to the honorable judge Michael Cruikshank to the hallowed ranks of Friday Hero.
Good looking out, Your Honor.
As I previously mentioned, this past Saturday found me sleeping, cartooning, and sleeping again, which led to me missing a ball of hijinx held in San Francisco. Warpath gave us the break-down, on the get-down;
Sorry this took so long.. It wouldnt be my style if it didnt. Some un/official business before we move along- 'Someone' confused the 'W' on the Swobo Heresy jersey with an 'M' and awarded the overall winner with not only a great photo op, but also a jersey of the wrong size and gender.
I- I mean 'someone' tried to keep the jersey to send in to trade but it got lost in the melee. Sooo... can we sort that out for the lad? If need be Ill have said 'someone' cough up the dough. Some photos are too big and I dont have time to resize. Moving along...For a fly by the seat-of-our-pants-we'll-figure-it-out-when-we-get-there kind of operation, I believe all in all it was an amazing success.
In no small part to the 40+ people that showed up pretty much by word of mouth and a select well placed flyers. We broke our cherry on this one and we did learn quite a few lessons. Such as when you bring the people over a hundred beers to the 'woods' you might want to give them a drop or two of water, not to mention when you send the people tear assin through said pedestrian infested 'woods' you should probably bring along some sort of first aid kit.
Luckily we had only two casualties that we heard of- some small cuts on one of our lovely bartenders and a small scrape on a racer that was bandaged up quite nicely with a pair of swobo brand dolly arm gauze. -And next time we swear we'll mark the course before the turns, not in them. If anyone has links to their photos please feel free to post them in the comments for everyone to enjoy. Thanks to Stan Dankles (aka dance cankles) in advance for (again) letting me use a couple photos without permission.
P.S. Oh and before I forget, I would like to add a shameless promotion to my friends at Velo Rouge Cafe. On our way to Zeitgeist after we ran out of beer in the 'woods', my Bob trailer skewer exploded and I was left coasting a bike somehow without a skewer and the Bob was down for the count. Luckily we were only blocks away from Velo Rouge (Arguello and Mcallister) and Meg gladly let me store my bike trailer there for two days(!) until we could come scoop it up.
luv,
Stephenwolf 'Martin' Warpath
Well, thatll teach fate to get in the way of my good time, wont it?
A certain bairn of El Corpo sent this to me with no note of explanation or anything. I can only assume that shes subtly letting me know shes laughing at me, rather than with me.
My lord, if only my fathers 'blings' and 'blongs' could still send me into a hysterical fit. My sense of humor has advanced to the point that he now has to take it a step further and actually don a rainbow wig.
Dustin wrote in with the kind of goods that send our hearts a soarin';
"thought you guys would appreciate this photo of Sarah G kickin it at
8000' in the sierra backcountry sporting her swobo gear...turns out it
works wonders for shedding the sweat as you climb the mountain, while
keeping you warm ripping turns back down.
(she's a bad-ass on a bike too)"
You know as much of a soft spot as we have for the boys in girls jerseys, there really is not much nicer then a girl in a girls jersey.
And to continue about our hearts soft spots, Brendan left a comment around here somewhere in regards to the mugshot bit that I have to share.
You know, this is a first for me, so obviously its touched me deeply;
"Mugshot related story: When I was checking out of jail (in my younger days), the officer on duty told me they recently had a kid try to smuggle his jail-issue orange jumpsuit out under his clothes. They caught him, charged him with theft, and he got 30 days. The original offense was public intox or something, so one night in jail turned into a month in jail."
I like that story so, so, so much.
You can get a little bit closer to Brendan by reading his blog.
The Huntress sent on one of her family photos that she thought wed enjoy.
She just knows us so very well..
Ill swear that MASHSF crew is all over the place. Theyre like, omnipotent, you know?
Heres one for any and all of those who choose to avoid a bummer life Down Under.
Please do us a solid and give a stop by to our friends at Shifter Bikes for all of your needs regarding the hullabaloo.
To tie this post off, Im going to share a quote that Ive been mulling around in my head as of late taken from the movie 'A Clockwork Orange'.
"Does God want goodness? Is a man who chooses to be bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has good imposed upon him?"
That being said, I hope that this weekend everyone dares to be just as bad as they want to be, cause after all, bad rhymes with rad, and everybody knows, rad is good.
To bring in Wednesday, let us, you and I take a trip down 25 miles of awesome.
I know Ive shared the tale of getting nabbed by the Boulder Police before, but what I dont think I included in the saga was that during the mug shot, I asked them if I should smile.
Im fairly certain they responded with a resounding, and incredulous- 'man... I dont care!'
Its important to always look good, you know?
And as long as were on the topic of looking good, feast your eyes on these two healthy slices of total and completely rediculous badassness I just purchased off the interweb.
I know youre sitting there wondering if its possible for any single individual to control all of that power and sexiness. I mean- it stands to reason that if a mere mortal were to come into possession of even one of those shirts, let alone both of them, that the sheer animal dynamism would simply be overwhelming, and could very probably lead to said individuals own undoing.
Yeah, well... Ill let you know.
Lets hear it for the Bush brain trusts economic stimulus plan. Remember when he was first 'elected' and everybody got 300 big ones?
Just to spite their plan, I invested all of my money in foreign porn.
Seriously, theyre touting that this will be the much needed fix-all for the current economic strife.
Why not take all of that money and invest it into public education, or even (gasp) social services? It might not be the answer to the immediate economic issues, but 145 billion dollars into education today, I guarantee will serve us better tomorrow.
I swear, just when I think theyve stooped as low as they are able and have made the most profound and insulting mistakes they can, they top themselves.
Theres a thing of beauty creeping up on us, and its called the Hand Built show. Are you going, or do you know someone who is?
Portland is obviously the proper environs for such an occasion, and Im quite looking forward to bringing some sort of report or another to your eager eyes.
You know this guy is gonna be there and that alone is almost worth the price of admission.
Remember, Stanford's in the Portland airport has an insanely cheap happy hour food menu from 3 to 6.
Plus, while youre in Portland, keep your eyes peeled for this upstanding young cat-
"Your help is requested in information that helps locate/arrest/prosecute/neuter/vivisect the driver of a new/newer Hummer H2, royal blue, (All-terrain blue, in Hummer speak) who assaulted a cyclist at 23rd and NW Pettygrove last night.
Yesterday afternoon (4:30ish) a cyclist was run off the street, assualted, threatened with a softball bat and punched in the face by the driver of a brand-new royal blue Hummer H2. Police were notified by several calls from about a dozen shocked passers by. The driver took off. The truck had no plates. If you see a new royal blue H2 with no plates and a 5'8"-5'9", balding man in his mid-late 30s driving it, that'd be him. Call it in as the driver that assualted the cyclist at 23rd and Pettygrove last night. If you have information regarding this assault, please contact the Portland police at 503-823-3333."
Somebody driving a Hummer and having complete disregard for anyone around them?! Now Ive heard everything.
Portlandites, keep your eyes peeled.
Recently I mentioned the untimely passing of one of The Mafias own. This Saturday theyre going to have a memorial ride for the girl, and though the wearing of skirts wont be enforced, it is highly encouraged.
Know this brethren and brethettes, I will be breaking out a sassy little white tennis skirt I only used for the cross dress season some 10 years ago, and will be sashaying around in Rachels honor.
The dynamite babe known only to us as 'The Gear Kitten' admitted that she too would ingest the pooballs as opposed to the over cooked steak and whole milk diet. She then graced us with this portrait of Brad Pitt painted on a cow patty, questioning which part wed eat.
I told her Id only eat the part around his dreamy eyes.
The MASHSF kids need no introduction, though any and all peeps in Filthy-Delphia might be keen on knowing about this here upcoming shindig in their fine city.
It promises to be a freakout.
And as long as were on the topic of freakouts, recently Swobo donated a Sanchez which was revamped and reworked by Sub Pop Records own Jeff Kleinsmith. Blacksocks gave us the skinny;
"Amigos-
Here are some images of the bike in its final glory.
Lotta stickers, compliments of Sub Pop and Jeff Kleinsmith.
It will be raffled off at the Giro booth at SIA, along with some other
goodies, amidst a frenzy of free beer and grizzled sales reps."
We figure some drunk snowboarders gonna end up being really happy...
Welp, Ive done rung as much life out of this one as I can. Happy Humpday everybody, and heres to doing just that.
No matter how deeply we bury our heads under the pillows, you always seem to find us, and lay out a swift kick to the grill.
Speaking of moustaches, lets start off Monday with a collection of a few of contemporary historys best.
And as far as that goes, Frank sent on a list of photos, mostly shot in the 70s, which should forever be known as the decade of the moustache.
I know Ive seen a photo on a wall at my parents house that would absolutely put some of these to shame. As soon as they return from wherever the hell they are, Ill look into getting a copy.
This clip of an interview with Bummer Life escapee Cory Worthington sent in by Step-on Wolf proves that he doesnt care about Mondays, moustaches, or really much else for that matter.
The loveliness that is Joi sent in this article about a cyclist who took a bumpy, albeit victorious route down the previously blazed path of the single brave soul in Tiananmen Square.
Well played mystery cyclist. Well played.
Anyone thats ever thrown a leg over a bicycle has that one single challenge that seemingly nearly always escapes them. When I was very young, it was the hill leading to the top of my childhood homes drive way. For some its that one climb that they just can never seem to regularly crest, or a set of off camber stairs they can only successfully clean 50% of the time..
Well Ive found my new white whale. Its a sizeable drop onto a narrow thread of chipped away single track. Ive cleaned it on only a small handful of attempts, and found myself pulling pine needles from within the confines of my darkest crevasses on the rest.
Since I began a relationship with the discipline of off road riding over 20 years ago, Ive been fortunate enough to always have at least one spot like this in my periphery that never allows me to have a consistently victorious relationship with it, this past Friday evening being no different.
The contour of the trail forever changing just slightly enough to always prevent it from being a no brainer.
You know- suffice it to say..some days youre the boot, and some days youre the cow patty.
Anyhow- over the weekend I went on and on about an old hat of mine which I dearly love, and understandably, a reader took slight exception assuming that I possibly wouldnt buy the Swobo if I didnt get a deal on the Swobo. To further the point I made in the comments section on that post, I want to offer this. Over the last ten years Ive spent hundreds of dollars on rain jackets, all of which Im proud to say are American made, and all of which Im disappointed to say dont work, and all of which I paid full pop for.
Last year my nice girlfriend purchased me a pair of REIs Novara Stratos rain pants, which I love, love, love. To complete the set, I just dropped a considerable amount of change on the Stratos rain jacket.
No industry deal, no bro code, no nothin', and this one hurt a hell of a lot more in the old pocket book than a 20 dollar hat ever could.
What does this mean in the long term? Fewer groceries, no records for a while, patch tubes 5 times more than usual, and no monthly dinner out with the lady friend, but on the flip side, many warm, dry and snuggly commutes over the course of the remaining winter months.
Like I said- its all about priorities, of which mine are arguably skewed.
Lets see, what else? I sadly missed the dirt crit that went down in the big city this weekend due to the fact that my motor vehicle is presently down for the count, thus leaving me no way to transport myself the many miles between here and there, however Im counting on one of the fine folks who actually made it through to lay a report on us soonish.
What was the schedule I kept in place of getting to the big city this weekend you ask?
Saturday: Wake up, eat breakfast, watch cartoons, buy grocerys, go back to bed, wake up, stretch, draw, eat dinner, watch movies, go back to bed.
Sunday: Wake up, eat breakfast, watch cartoons, mount the Dirtbomb, kick my own ass all over hill and dale, stretch, eat dinner, watch cartoons, go to bed.
Its truly a damn shame Im not a millionaire, because I could redefine laziness for generations to come.
And there I was just a week ago or so lamenting the fact that I wasnt truly great at anything.
This weekend I was truly great at nothing.
Literally.
..And it was brilliant.
I can only hope everyone had an equally restful and recharging weekend. Like I always say- theres only five days till we can do it all over again.
"Youre not actually going to wear that in public?" or 'one of my favorite things.'
As far as folks who are real clothes whores go, I am not one. Ive said before that I will wear pants until they disintegrate. By looking at me, one wouldnt assume that I am very particular about what I wear, but to be honest, this is not the case. T-shirts have to fit me just so, as do pants, and so on. True, Id be considered a slob by a homeless person, but no one can disparage the levels of my obsessive compulsive disorder that it takes to arrive at these depths of fashion..
Today I saw a very young girl running around with a vertically blue striped shirt, and horizontally striped pants containing every other color. Her socks were yellow, and her shoes were red.
To me she looked as if a clown threw up on another clown, but it brought to mind a story my mom told me of my first day of kindergarten when I emerged from my room wearing every conceivable pattern and color combination, beaming with pride for what was possibly my first attempt at dressing myself.
Kids just dont care how they look, it only matters how the clothes make them feel and how rad they can get in them, and in that regard, I dont think Ive ever evolved.
As Ive stated here before, Im wearing the hell out of my Brunos. Theyre comfy, tough as nails, and dont show stains.
The three ironclad rules of thumb I tend to stick to.
Before the Brunos, for the last 20 years, Ive been, as well as continue to be a diehard Ben Davis man.
I dont care for Dickies because my change falls out of the pockets when I sit down, probably due to the fact that I have an unnaturally large ass for a white man.
My ass really is nether here nor there.. In truth, its really kind of everywhere.. but I digress.
I bring all of this up to lay a bit of a foundation for an ode. An ode to my possibly unhealthy affinity for this here old stock Swobo hat modeled by GenO.
Its made pretty much of the same stretchy wool that the Fenster knickers are made of presently. Since I was a very young child, Ive had a soft spot for hats. Not top hats or Bowlers mind you- generally just baseball hats, or the occasional sock cap.
This hat however does the trick for all occasions, all seasons and all reasons.
Ive lost and found it more times then I care to count, its been all over the country, across Canada from Qubec to Vancouver, been stolen, bloodied, burned, slept in, on and under, and now at this point is as good as a permanent fixture on my body.
Like Loudass over heard on the bus between two recent prison parolees-
"Whatchu gonna buy first, man?"
.."A suit!"
"What kinda suit?"
...."The kind that fits me best!"
This tattered and foul smelling item does, and always has 'fit me best'.
I feel very fortunate to be in the employ of a company who happens to produce the items of clothing that fit into my very narrow margins of acceptability, and aside from my mantra of 'if it werent for Swobo, I wouldnt have any friends', it is also true that if it werent for Swobo, I would probably be naked as well.
Both of these statements are undeniably linked and true, moreover probably because of one another.
Were not fasionistas, but we know what looks good and what works well all at the same time.
Something that anyone caught riding behind me will forever be unknowingly thankful for.
As a society I feel as though we sometimes become too dependent on visual aides. Well today I say "NO MORE!" (mostly)
I defiantly cast away the shackles of the embedded Youtube videos, (except for the link right down there) and the digital photos of the beautiful people.
This time around dear reader, we want you to flex the muscles of your imagination.
Do you remember that part of your brain?
Its the portion you use when waiting to find out if you have been chosen for jury duty, or when youre in line at the DMV...
Or like that one time when you happened to find yourself in the juvenile detention center for a misunderstanding concerning a police car and some spray paint...
Anyhow- tighten up your seat belt. Its gonna be like a trip on The Great Space Coaster, but with less space, greatness, or coasters.
CO wrote in and threw the hell out of the gauntlet, which by the way, we will absolutely make a whole lot of fun of you if you actually attempt to undertake;
"(Regarding Loudasses bit on Monday) Are you sure you talked to a real black dude….or a sorta black dude?? The chick that told me that has spent the last 4 years in Vermont so she should know!
I have a HTATBL challenge-
Anyone that can subsist on, for the month of February:
3) 1 pr of Original Vans RAD Edition kicks (SE Colors)
I checked with two dudes who claim to be lawyers, and I am un-sueable, due to the fact that the next of kin will only get the above shit, cause that’s about all I gots. My dad claims it can’t be done….
Any takers,
CO"
Man, that makes my little trivia questions look absolutely pale by comparison.
Again, I need to say that this in no way is a dare on behalf of Swobo. Its not that we think it cant be done, but were just saying were not responsible if you try it. Like those disk jockeys in Sacramento who egged a lady on to drink a bunch of water so shed get a XBox or some crap, and as a result died of water intoxication.
Yeah, were not going down that road.
But COs challenge brings to mind something that aside from Bacon and Budweiser is near and dear to my heart. The 'Would You Rather' game.
When I used to wrench at bike shops, wed spend hours batting the grossest of the gross back and fourth to one another. Its the kind of game that allows you to take an unblinking gaze inside yourself.
Example- Would you rather eat an over cooked steak and pint of whole milk, three meals a day for a year, or a single gumball sized morsel of your own poo once a day for a week?
Now obviously, ether route you take is going to have extraordinarily unpleasant results, but which is going to be less so?
Or this one- would you rather dance everywhere for a year... Everywhere you are when standing, youre dancing. Get it?
In line for the bank, the shower, your Nanas funeral, in front of your boss, getting fired.....Everywhere.
Or spend 6 months straight, 24 hours a day, wearing gigantic orange headphones that play Slayers 'Angel of Death', over and over and over again, out of only one side?
Yeah, you get back to me on that.
Anyway, back to COs challenge. If you decide to do it, its all on you. Hell- its not like its very far from the diet of Loudass or 65% of the South anyway.
The Skipper and I have a challenge that we will back up though. Were here warming up the new Swobo credit card on personal internet purchases and were wondering if any of you think youre tough enough to step to us upon the arrival of our new hardware?
At some point one of you will be speaking with The Skipper on the phone and the conversation will go something like this;
"Swobo- This is Colin"
"Hi Colin, hey, my mother in law got me a long sleeved jersey for my birthday, and I need a size smaller. Can I exchange it for a new one?"
"Yeah, thatll be no problem, first off all well need you to just send back the one youd like to- (SNAP!)AAAAAAHHHHHYOUHITMEINTTHECHEEK#%^&FU****IMGOINGTOKILLYOU!!!*&!*&#$%SH*TAaA
AhHhHHHUUHHHhhhh(Muffledexplatives)YOUREABOUTTOWITNESSREALPAINAAHHHHH ^%@#$%^*&UIYOUINCREDIBLESONOFABITC(muffledsobbing)....UUuugghhhh.......Ohhman..Im bleeding...uh..um...ahhh......
..Um, Im sorry.... So as I was..uh.. saying youll just need to send your old one back to us with a copy of the packing list and your R.A. number on the package..."
In other news, Wednesday was awesome. There were bikes being ridden, rad being got, beer being drank, mexican food being ate, and eventually floors being slept upon, though our evenings plans were nearly thwarted when The Skipper got hit in the eye with a drop of his chelada, resulting in an emergency eye dabbing with his own underpants.
Can you see it in your mind? Youd better, cause youre not getting any pictures from me.
Remember, this is all about your
IM-AG-IN-AT-ION.
(Mostly)
Heres another example of the power of the brain. Just two days ago I was recalling a chap I used to messenger with by the name of Richie. Then James sent this bit to El Corpo about the Mash SF Japan tour, and lo and behold, there he was hanging out with his checkered top tube pad..
Didnt I tell you he was somewhere out there riding fast and smiling?
Ok. Im done. That was a fun little exercise, wasnt it? Does your brain feel better, cause I know mine does.
(Except for the parts thats still wondering what they meant in The Great Space Coaster song by 'going toward the other side, where only rainbows hide.')
Well be back next week with more of the same old nonsense.
Say- we hope everybody has a grand weekend doing something, or someone that they love.
Over and out.
(Insert little image of magic and wonderment here.)
Just moments ago Clay called and asked if one really was supposed to dry clean the new Brunos, as directed on the care instructions tag.
While on the phone with him, I dropped my pants to confirm that this is in fact what the tag says.
It does.
However, I wasnt aware of this and have actually gone so far as to wash them in hot and throw them in the dryer with absolutely no consequence.
I called El Corpo and he wasnt aware of this ether, and went on to say that the need to dry clean them is B.S....
So there you go. Let my lack of concern for my 200.00 pants* be your guiding light and know that no matter what, I will die before I own pants that need to be dry cleaned.
Lets begin, shall we?
If you want to waste some time, this from Coach Matt is a pretty good place to start.
My personal best is 1200 m, as well as a fiercely evil 666.6 m, although the coach said there was a 1299.8 out there in our ranks somewhere.
Ironically the game is not alot unlike my morning commute today. Its true. A guy hit me with a bat, and I rode gophers all the way to my desk.
Loudass has graced us with a news worthy piece in a manner only he could provide;
"This is completely unrelated to bikes, although it does involve pork products. We had our first annual father-daughter trip to the International Sportsman's Exposition on Sunday, with the intent being to photograph the girls sitting on a gigantic taxidermied wild hog.
This event also features a great many non-ironic mustaches and dudes in white tennis shoes. There was no giant stuffed hog this year [see above], which was WEAK. However, there was a place selling 14 inch long phallic "Monster Corndogs", skewered onto vampire killing stakes. We were obliged to eat those for our first lunch. Note the varying styles of consumption on display in the attached photo: whereas Sasha took the dog head-on in the manner of a veteran street hooker, I nibbled around the skewer like a rat eating the flesh off a hobo arm.
Aaron, on the other hand, chose to maintain his dignity. Thereafter, we became disgusted with ourselves, necessitating a subsequent trip to In N Out for our second lunch, followed by a spitting contest. There are no pictures of that.
On another note, equally unrelated to bikes, I asked an actual black guy if the term "Hood Rat" has really been superseded by "Slam Piece". He says that is Honkey Bullshit."
CO and crew do reside in Aspen Colorado, after all. As far as I know, the town was built on honkey B.S.
Loudass also provided this bit of art that doesnt suck.
Man Id pay good money to see some cats and mice doing battle in that garb.
theres no law against that is there?
I used to look forward to every January and the arrival of the coveted Chris King calendar, however the last two years Ive been graced with the calendar shot through the lens and made by the hands of our friend AZ.
The kind and fine folks at Bootleg Sessions sent me a copy of the new DVD that showed up at the office today, and aside from offering them public thanks, I want to urge folks to do what it takes to peep their new effort.
"It is not meant to be ground-breaking, life-changing, trend-setting, or scene-defining. It’s just fun. Ride/Relax."
Theres footage of kids in basketball shorts doing calisthenics, a drunk guy falling down, tricks on tall bikes, and lots of very skilled individuals getting rad on fixies, and we dont have to tell you how we feel about getting rad, right?
The film is chock full of DIY ethos, and as Ive mentioned before, proves that something good is afoot in the bike world.
You know- back a long time ago when I was messengering, there were a small group of folks who rode the fixed gears. I mean a really small group, all of whom were amazingly talented.
One fellow in particular by the name of Richie Ditta blazed past me somewhere South of Market one day, offered a friendly greeting, and proceeded to jump a set of rail road tracks. Just like that. POW- into the air two feet high, kicked sideways still pedaling, and then landing smooth as butter zig zagging away through traffic, thereby forever confirming in my mind that for better or for worse, it was folks like him that were setting the stage for what would eventually evolve into the worldwide fixie explosion and evolution that we are witnessing presently.
Wherever Richie is today Im sure hes still riding fast without fear, and smiling at the spectacle that he and his helped create.
We got this next gem of a photo from David entitled "Why I Like Going To The Mall".
I dont know what it is, but the black metal kids simply love Hotdog on a Stick.
Seriously, they just go crazy for it.
Just doing what we can to get a lock on the underground.
Well this weeks trivia extravaganza has come and gone and our boys Hans and Mullah Bin Makdag almost nailed it.
Its true, the half of the live album was in fact 'Hallraker', in April 1987, the other half of which was later recorded at First Ave. in Minneapolis the following July.
No word whether Prince was present at the show.
Nobody getting the live cover shot portion of the query surprised me though.
It was Soundgardens 'Louder Than Love' album cover shot by none other than Mr. Charles Peterson.
So for you Hans and Mullah, we have half of whatever youd like.
One arm warmer? A half a t-shirt?, the collar, sleeves, and pockets off of woolie? Go nuts man, the world is your oyster.
El Corpo sent this in;
"Listen to what he says at 00:15.
...............we're claiming copyright infringement."
And there I was listening for the color green...
A long time ago in Bellingham Washington, my lovely friend Listle turned me on to those Kinder Eggs.
"My name is Stevil, and Im a Kinder Eggoholic."
Finally I have to mention that Swobo is continuing to have our epic yard sale over there at the website.
Why dont you stop in? Weve got candy dishes, Atari video games, bean bag chairs, and a ton of really, really bitchin Swobo goods for ridiculously low prices..
Yeah... You know youll see something you like...
Im out of here. Its as good as Wednesday night- you know what to do.
Among all of the personal business, bike riding and whatnots that I had to attend to the last two days, I made time to stop by the children's hospital to cheer up the little tikes.
I even took some of them to the park
Cause you know- I love the kids.
On the first of the year Id mentioned that Captain Morgan had come home for the holidays, and I included a Hi-larious photoshopped image of a chipmunk-tarantula thing. I was lying.
But today its my distinct pleasure to announce in complete honesty that Captain Morgan has in fact finally returned from his walk about.
Truth be told I was worried about the little fella. Every time one of them disappears, my better half tells me that they probably got eaten, or that one ate the other, or some kind of terrible fate or another has befallen them.
And thats just mean.
Do you like apples?
How about these apples?
After a long absence, East Bay rock and roll heros Samiam are back and badder than ever with a new full length album as well as a few upcoming tour dates. Word has it theyll be playing in San Francisco towards the end of January.
Ill be there.
The last time I saw them they played with Chokebore and The Toadies on the Toadies first national tour in 1993 at a little place called The Berkeley Square, which is now a Scandinavian design furniture store.
At one point in the set this black homeless gutter punk with eyes like Marty Feldman and I got into a bit of a scrape and he told me in no uncertain terms that he would eat my heart.
I played it safe and turned the other cheek.
Anyhow, go here to check up on this institution of a band.
As far as the Berkeley Square goes- hows about a little trivia?
This ones a two parter. Which seminal 'grunge' band had an album cover shot there, and which long standing purveyors of feel good punk rock recorded half of a live album there?
And if youre feeling really mentally tough, what were the names of the albums?
First correct answer gets something out of the Swobo goodie box.
Speaking of the rock and/or roll, I wanted the new Soulcraft fat tired cross bike to be called TheMonsterCrossVisionQuestVirginBuster.
However as Ive previously reported, the new steed in the Soulcraft family is called 'The Dirtbomb', after Detroits favorite sons (and daughter) who have a new slab slated to be released next month. Buy it and dance your ass off.
We want to now take the opportunity to wish Tommy a happy 40th birthday, which was celebrated this weekend.
Heres to 40 more, old man.
How does everbody feel about a corespondance from our own CO;
"Some chick kept stealing the orange camo lid last night at the rock show...I called her a Hoodrat...she said that is so passé...The '08 nomenclature is either "Gutter Troll" or "Slam Piece"...I could be in love.
CO"
It sounds like a match made in Heaven.
Now for the public service portion of bummer life avoidance sent on from Sky.
In eight days, all cell phone numbers will be released to telemarketing agencies, and as required by the Federal Trade Commission, in order to do this, they had to allow a loophole with which people can take their numbers off of the list.
All you need to do is call 888-382-1222 from the phone number you wish to have removed.
Im not sure if this was just an issue for folks in California, but it never hurts to get the word out.
So there you go- dont say we never gave you nothin'.
Now, why dont you take a break from our jibberjabber and go see our friend Hollywood?
His holiday shopping post is one of only a very small handful of things that makes me want to visit Southern California.
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We totally got our art on this weekend-
And I was dressed to kill.
I particularly enjoy how the fellow in the middle of the overview shot looks as if hes tearing the poor little orange haired girl in the corner a new one, but really, if I remember correctly they were talking about pizza.
"I'm making these as a relief from the over analyzed, overly serious, overly snobby world of custom frame building..."
To take a break from frame building, the man builds frames.
If thats not a sign of true and utter dedication to the craft, then I dont know what is.
You know The Sticks gonna be at next months Handmade Show, and if you have plans on going, stop by his booth and say hello, but make sure to bring your step ladder if you want to give him a high five.
Youre sure to see some pretty, pretty bikes.
Like this one maybe?
And somewhere in your travels, you might come across this other one made by bad Mr. P.
In a matter of minutes after posting the item on Rachel's disappearance, I was notified that her body was found.
I dont know what to say.
Rachels family and friends are all in our hearts and minds in light of this tragic news.
For any of you that know Rachel Dow she has been missing since Thursday
night. She was last seen at the Uptown bar at about 1:00am. Her bike was
just found abandoned at West River Road and 38th. Please help to spread the
word.
If you have seen Rachel or her bicycle, Mark Emery(612.327.9830) , Erika
(612.386.3696), B Rose (952.240.9158) or the Minneapolis Police at
612-348-2345 or 911.
Shameful walls, Stretchy waist bands, Gloves, Gene Simmons, and bacon.
The wall of shame grows...
Chris sent us just exactly the kind of fodder our wall is hungry for, and for that we are forever greatful.
Weve even put his offering up in a spot of honor next to Cheevers fat guy in tiny shorts.
The bar has been set pretty high here folks. Whos the next to step up?
Josh, who has arguably the coolest last name in town of 'Meyhem' took it upon himself to forward this modern marvel on to us, questioning if it in fact would be a good idea to utilize such an eyesore.
To that I can only say 'probably', but only if you could handle the deafening laugh track comes free with every purchase.
Then this bit of awesomeness was forwarded to us by Tom.
A great way to spend a Saturday? That seems like a pretty good way to spend any day.
You know, I guess if you like beer. Otherwise it would be kind of a drag.
Zeke invited us to the Kansas City beard-off.
It looks to be a good time, even though my training for this Springs Moustache Bash has already begun.
And as long as were on the magical topic of moustaches, theres alot of big words in this article but the long and the short of it is this
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