So again, thank you for your efforts, and I really do appreciate the insight and undeserved praise.
And while the Genderanalyzer thing that The Snob wrote about on Tuesday says there's a 75% chance that the Bummer Life is written by a woman, I may not be a woman on the outside, but I am every bit a woman on the inside, and therefor was genuinely touched by the effort that all of y'all put forth.

It reminded me of a story a friend who used to tend bar at a spot in San Francisco once told me.
I happened to have a whole bunch of large framed drawings hanging in this particular bar, and one afternoon, a handful of folks were sitting around drinking and talking about the work. On a whim my friend began asking them who they thought the work might have been made by when one patron blurted out, "I dont know.. They're probably done by a messenger or something.. Whatever the case, she sure is pissed."

Anyway, shortly after I finished reading The Snob's post, I went down to the corner and protested some gays, stopped by the bar to watch some ultimate fighting, and then returned home to smack the ol' lady around a bit.
By the way, I TOLD you guys that God hated shellfish..

Alright.. another thing that was mentioned to me was that it might be a nice idea if I did five shorter posts a week rather than the standard three big ones. I'd like that idea, however that would leave me with exactly one free evening a week, and frankly, I think the sound of that sucks balls.

There is talk of me possibly moving into a bit more of a marketing position at some point, thereby freeing up days to do 'Bummer Life' stuff, and if that comes to pass, I just might end up going bananas and do two posts a day.

Aside from the emails containing the requested reviews, in the last 48 hours I've gotten about 200 other emails ranging in content from bacon (duh) to requests to advertise on The Bummer Life, which I will share with you now;

"Hello, Stevil!
My name is (ommitted) and I am working with the online marketing team of a major printing company. I'd like to sponsor your blog if I can, via text link ads. Have you ever considered leasing ad space from your blog for text links? How much would you charge for that kind of advertising? I'm looking forward to hearing back from you, Stevil.
Truly,
(name omitted)

My response;

"Hi (name omitted),
Thanks for writing. You know how they say every man has their price? Well, that's true, and mine is like.. a million dollars, unless you're hot, in which case I'd be happy to knock a bit off the top.
If you're interested, let me know.

..Or if you can get me five suits like this...

Stevil"

Surprisingly, she wrote back.

"Hey, Stevil,

I'm always up for a challenge. Should I send you a picture or would that only serve to chip off a couple hundred bucks - depending on your evaluation, of course. Never underestimate a yuppy, Stevil ; )

If I had access to five suits like that, do you suppose I'd be doing online marketing for a living? I'm no Marie Osmond, and neither is Marie Osmond.

(Name omitted)"

To which I crafted a thoughtful and genuine response, in hopes of at least getting lunch bought for me out of the deal, but she never wrote back.
Here I sit in the dank, darkness of the warehouse at 5:30 on a Tuesday night, pining away for this mystery woman who's path I fear I will never cross.

And speaking of cross, Daniel sent on a flyer for a cross series down in the burning half of the Republic of California;

I have a problem with those flyers and that is that there is a retarded amount of information on them to consume. If you're like me and you can't read and don't have any span of attention to speak of, email teamvelocity@cox.net for the specifics.

After literally plowing through years of bummer life avoidance on my own, Captain Dave wrote to me today saying that he recently woke up one morning, struck with the inspiration to contribute to our little web log. I decided that we should start him on a trial basis with a new segment that we will call "The Captains Corner", or maybe if we wanna get super cute "The Kaptains Korner".
So here we go, for the first time ever within the annals of these hallowed pages, the jackassery is about to run even deeper.

"If it made any sense, it wouldn't really be fun, now, would it?

You never get a second chance to make a first impression so, to the uninitiated, I may as well ruin my hole shot right here and now: I like to listen to Rush when I ride my bike. Not when doing laundry, not when buggering the old lady, not when studying, not when partying, but when riding my bike. Does this make sense? Probably not. Do I care? Negatory. But I must bring light to the fact that there's something about Rush, circa Fly By Night to Grace Under Pressure that seems to make a lot of sense to me when astride my steel pony. It could be Geddy's odd timbre, it could be Peart's precision, it could be the belief that Lifeson likes to get loaded and get into fist fights with cops. I don't know.

What I do know is that I like it.

I dare you to put Permanent Waves in your ears on your next ride (of whatever context) and defy me. I like it, and I think it's good for me. I think it might be good for you, too. If that album fails you, try Exit Stage Left. I've hereby joined tubing and mullets and nostalgia and a little bit of "where's anyone that can actually play around here besides Mars Volta and Battles?"

Another facet of a bike/something combo that does NOT work is bikes and hot dogs. Being a native of Chicagoland, I love me a good hot dog. Seriously folks, a Vienna All Beef hot dog done Chicago style is something of greatness. However to mix the two with a bike ride requires great intestinal fortitude.

Sitting on a riverbank watching the lovelies skate by is one thing, turning pedals into a head wind is another. The bile, or "putback" as I've deemed it, makes for the worst taste ever. The taste is so bad that only whiskey or some other strong elixir can remove it from your yap, so you stop. And then you drink too much. And then you puke. And then there's the hot dog flavor again, so you're right back where you started except now your old lady is pissed at you, too.

Ah, cycles. So many cycles."

An appropriate analogy for The Captains musings that Ive used a few times before is that it's not alot unlike staring into the mouth of God.
-Or at least staring into one of God's orifie anyway..

Then sometime later, this showed up from Robert.

Anyhow, Robert's bacon ice cream aside, my mom and dad are currently in the process of relocating, and in doing so, have realized that they have amassed an obscene amount of crap. Sadly, a good portion of this crap happened to be mine, and regardless of the fact that my living situation is impossibly small, a few weeks ago they loaded all of the junk into a friends van, and dumped it into my lap at work.
With the small amount of free time I've had, I began pouring though the contents of boxes that haven't seen the light of day in 20 years.
Along the way, I found two photographs of famed Pentabike draftsman 685, on the very day that we met;

From that fateful day in 1986, we both have been on a steady decline ever since.

Well, this past weekend the good cats from The Soil Saloon pulled it off. A 30 mile adventure though the concrete jungle of San Francisco, linking up every available ribbon of single track that the city has to offer. Needles to say, I was in hiding, but it looked like a blast, and we have to offer up a huge thanks to them for getting off of their well toned asses and organizing an event that will surely go down in history.
Thanks to the lightening quick and hyper professionalism of XP Multimedia, they've even got a video of the debacle already available for your viewing pleasure;

Well played my friends, well played.

Its Wednesday and I do believe that not only did I dot every i and cross every t on todays post, but I think I even used punctuations in all of the places I was supposed to.
This is truly a red letter day in every sense of the word, and now to celebrate, I think that the 75% of me that is a woman and I are going to head home, run a bath with some scented oils, light a few candles and treat ourselves right.

But that probably wont be before we go out to punish our livers and fall down a hill in the darkness.

We really are a match made in Heaven.