And furthermore, there is an epic battle being waged this weekend in the land of chocolate and wooden shoes.
All the news that's fit to print on the matter will be found here.

Good lord almighty is it gonna be a freak out.
And I'll bet, just like in Boulder, the crowds will be well mannered and quietly polite.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) |

I've said it before, but for the sake of killing space, I may as well say it again.

I sometimes get alot of mail and as such, when I neglect my computer for a day or five, upon my return, I find myself a little overwhelmed.

I have an increasingly difficult time finding room and creating suitable segues from one item to the next, for the wide array of topics that find their way into my eye holes. Plus, coupled with the limited room and matching limited attention span, (mine, not yours) Ive decided that I'm simply going to turn the inbox over and see what sticks.

It seems only right that I might display the more dimensional of the two forms of communiqué here first, as those are my favorite kind.

After a long and tiresome journey back from the Great White North, I stumbled into my abode and found packages large and small awaiting my letter opener.

First to experience my wrath was a package from my old friend Jen. Long ago, she and I worked at neighboring bike shops for a while, then for a time we worked at the same bike shop, and then after that, we worked at neighboring bike shops again. During one of the seasons I was on the road with the NORBA mountain bike circuit, she was as well, wrenching for downhill and duel slalom powerhouse, Lisa Sher. Around this same time we were also house mates- we rode bikes together, drank beer together and she was one of the damn crackingest bike mechanics you ever laid eyes on. Hell, for that matter, I'm so inspired by the reminiscing that I dug out an old snap shot of her to use as a visual aide;

Eat your heart out, Corey Parks.

Anyhow, the first package was from Jen;

That there is a whole lotta love. Some KISS incense, a stack of CDs, and a letter suggesting that I had certain oral services preformed on me by Danzig, but there were no cameras, or witnesses that night, so as far as she's concerned, it's pure conjecture.

The next up was a package from Sparrow containing the first and the latest issues of Cog Magazine;

And the last was an envelope of Pentabike stickers from none other than 685 himself;

It should be noted that 685 has begun the preliminary steps for production of Pentabike emblazoned goodies, and can be reached at pentabike@gmail.com for the full skinny.

Then as I arrived at the warehouse early Tuesday morning, I was met by a package in my favorite color combination from our homie in Texas, Jenna. It seems that young Jenna is a bit of a gourmet, and hopped on to the fast track to our hearts with a box of homemade chocolate and toffee;

Hell yeah.

I also was the lucky recipient of a package from The Captain containing a few assorted items of Evil, not the least of which were my Budweiser socks that I forgot at his house after a night of debauchery and fleshy sins;

Of course this doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of what was in my email inbox, but truthfully I don't have the energy to get into that right now. I think I'll put that stuff into my virtual Parmesan shaker and give you a dusting every now and again for the next several weeks, but for now, reflect on the images and the sheer tactileness (my blog, my words) of the packages contained herein.

Your duty, should you agree to undertake it, is to assemble a package of badassness of your own, and shoot it off to someone you know. You might be surprised as to what possibly will transpire because of it.

You might not get immediate payback, but eventually, the more you give, the more you'll get, and soon enough we can all cast away (most of) the shackles of the hum-drum world of email and get back to creating something for our friends and acquaintances alike.

I can almost promise it.

That is of course unless your friends and acquaintances are all flakes, and if that's the case, then like Flava Flav says, "I can't do nothin' fo' you, man."

It's Friday, and as I've imparted many, many times before, each with more fervor then the last, roll up your sleeves, roll down your socks, and get busy, cause it's the only two days that The Man allows.

We'll all be getting rad in unison.

Oh yeah, by the way.. and though it doesn't have anything to do with mail, it has everything to do with getting rad. Here you go..You can thank me later.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

I dare not bury a thing of such beauty within the confines of yet another dreary post.
You couldn't handle all of this plus a double dose of my wit and grandeur anyhow.
I mean, seriously.. You're only human.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (13) |

I'm back, and fatter than ever. I just wanted to let you all know that I've got a full episode of bummer life avoidance scheduled for Wednesday, but until then, here is a shot of some chicks who picked me up in Vancouver, and plied me with hash, literature and baked goods.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) |

Well of course you do. It's with great pride that I have the opportunity to showcase first here, before anywhere else in the world, the 2009 Swobo Sanchez.

From a brief communiqué that Sky sent;

"Changes are front and rear brakes/levers, machined rims, white flip-flop hubs, water bottle mounts on the downtube and Azure Blue second color.

It comes with a single-speed freewheel now, and not a fixed cog."

This is just the tip of the iceberg, as Sky has been spending many sleepless nights designing a slew of the good stuff that will be making it's way to our top secret fortress in the coming weeks.
Aside from this, I got a sneak peek at a bunch of new soft goods as well, so prepare to prepare yourself for the barrage that is going to be Swobo 2009.

Due to a previous snafu in manufacturing, this may even be the year that we go into production on our new line of Swobo shoes.

In other news, recently while trolling the internet, I came across a video clip that reminded me of some photos that Bobo The Clown sent to me from a mountain biking trip he had taken to Europe a couple of years ago;

"This is the Val d'Uina Pass is in Switzerland and takes you into Italy.

The route was constructed during WW 1 by smugglers. Insane drop (1000' in some places) into the gorge that is not for the timid.

-Bobo"

Now for the clip. I defy you to watch this and not shift uncomfortably in your chair;

Lets see you pull that route off, Hans Ray...

In industry news, in a recent email from our friend DPow! he got us up to speed on what he and his band of ner-do-wells have been up to lately. Get your clicking fingers ready and feast your eyes on their new gig- Portland Design Works.
We of course wish them the best of luck, and unfaltering confedence in their imminent success.

Plus, if you're in the neighborhood, swing by and say hello. They are rumored to be ping pong ninjas and would probably rather humiliate you in a game then do work, so give them a reason to take a break.

And now, for those of you who might find yourselves in the bottom of the humdrums, I offer a spark of motivation;

I think you'll be finding it a bit easier to get out of bed after that spiritual kick start.

But maybe your heart is hardened and you need a bit more to light that fire.
Well then for you my friends, I present you with this one;

For the good people in the Republic of Boulder where cyclocross is taken seriously, I made a Parkin special;

I even made one for our ace homie, 685;

It should be noted that in the original I used a bad word, but this is a family friendly web log, and I don't use bad words here.

Much.

Anyway, in regards to this image that he sent to me, he writes;

"410 17th street. Denver, Colorado, 1992.

I was arrested 20 minutes later.

it used to be the hang out for couriers when there was a coffee cart located there.
i'd drink more money in espresso shots than i was making daily as a messenger.

don't know if you've seen the pics of me getting 'cuffed' there or not, will try and find them.

the whole time i was singing the lyrics to the DRI song, 'Busted'

Police drive by, I hold my breath
I've got 10 warrants for my arrest
They stop at the light and whip it around
Ten minutes later I'm headed downtown
Free Ride
Busted... stepped out of line
Busted... no place to hide
Busted... couldn't pay my fines
It makes no sense to live this way
But I'm gonna do it anyway
Busted... for being me
Busted... for being free
Busted... can't pay my bail
Busted... I'll die in jail
It makes no sense to live this way
But I'm gonna do it anyway"

I've used the phrase "when they made him, they broke the mold" many times before, but in 685's case, it is an undeniable truth.

Well, if these images of unparalleled inspiration don't do the trick for you, then I'm afraid your soul is calloused beyond help.
Or you could simply make your own.

And for that matter, I think I smell a contest. The first one that makes a motivational poster that inspires me.. One that makes me laugh and cry, and feel like running across the warehouse to first engage in The Skipper's warm embrace, and then punch him in the stomach wins a one of a kind 'stuff-off-of-Stevil's-desk-gift pack'.
Now there is more there than stale doughnuts and empty beer cans on my desk. Why, I have a whole plethora of cool magazines, t-shirts, stickers, brand new CDs and an entire range of what-nots there to choose from. Of course you might not end up receiving those things, but then again, you probably will.
As always, the contest ends when either I'm damn good and ready, or a winner is picked.
You know- which ever happens first.

Until then, here is a Fox News WTF heard around the world. Did you hear a minute and 55 seconds like I heard a minute and 55 seconds?

That's it for me. If you're in the Pacific Northwest, look to the skys and you just might catch a glimpse of my shining, happy face right before you get hit by a water balloon.

But not before I get hit with this t-shirt;

Be good without me.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 04:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (15) |

Right out of the gate, I feel the need to correct something I'd mentioned on Friday.
I said that I had 40 virgins waiting for me in Heaven, which apparently is incorrect. In reality there will be 72 virgins, though recently it has come to light that there may very well have been a lapse in translation and there aren't 72 virgins, but in reality there will actually be 72 Raisins.

After blowing yourself up in a public market, I can't think of a bigger gyp than that.

In bicycle news, Danny B and I made a post work jaunt into a nearby slice of woods to get all cross-bikey on Friday evening where for the first time I cleaned a previously mentioned rock drop that has up until now, eluded my skinny wheeled exploits;

In all honesty, there has been some maintenance on this section since the first time I rode it on my mountain bike making it slightly less daunting, though the penalty is just as severe;

What exists beyond the pit of darkness to Danny B's left is another 40 feet of straight down, that when teetering on the brink of the rock lip, almost sends me into a swirling fit of vertigo that is all but impossible to ignore.

Now you are probably thinking to yourself "that doesn't look like that big of a deal", and you are right, but as the king of mediocrity, and marginal bike handling skills, it was still a fairly respectable accomplishment for me, so much like Jeremy Powers, at the conclusion of my feat, I earned myself a cookie.

Now, in an email from Christopher to our own Erin The Sales Maven, he elaborates on some of his own home baked goodness;

"Here's a couple of pics from the trainer races held the other night.

We tried to showcase Swobo's killer item's to the fullest. I won with only 8 beers in my belly and a veggie burger and only puked four times. Go figure. Feel free to share with Stevil, all things bummer related were avoided. There's one photobomb as well.

Cheers,
Christopher"

While we're on the topic of roller racing, I promised some friends in Cincinnati that I would blow up an event they they are having this coming weekend;

There is no word yet whether Dr. Johnny Fever, Venus Fly Trap or Les Nessman will be in attendance.

But back to Christopher's email for a second- The photobomb is high art, and I'm growing increasingly fond of it. In the Bummer Life's 2008 recap, I'd mentioned not only a love for the photobomb, but a grand appreciation for pranks as well.

Now I had previously seen the following clip before;

But what I only realized the other night is that on YouTube, Prank Vote has an entire collection of what makes me all glowy and warm that can be found here.

Those guys appeal to the mean spirited streak in me like hardly none before them.

Captain Dave has pulled back the reins on his "Kaptain's Korner" lately, but came through in a big way when he forwarded on this list of doping cases in cycling.

By far my favorite was this;

"1924
Henri Pélissier, Francis Pélissier, Charles Pélissier of France. In 1924, following their abandon of the Tour de France, the first real drug scandal arose when the Pélissier brothers gave an extraordinary interview to journalist Albert Londres.

They said that they used Strychnine, cocaine, chloroform, aspirin, "horse ointment" and others drugs to keep going. The story was published in 'Le Petit Parisien' under the title 'Les Forçats de la Route' ('The Convicts of the Road'). Francis is reported as saying "In short, we run on dynamite." Henri is reported as saying "Do you know how we keep going? Look, this is cocaine, chloroform, too. And pills? You want to see pills? Here are three boxes - We run on dynamite." Francis Pélissier said much later: "Londres was a famous reporter but he didn't know about cycling. We kidded him a bit with our cocaine and our pills." Even so, the Tour de France in 1924 was no picnic."

Oh my god... "WE RUN ON DYNAMITE"?

Awesome.

As I sat at my desk in a daze at all of this information, nothing could have prepared me for the epic response that only moments later came from Joe Parkin;

Wikipedia- Erik de Vlaeminck of Belgium, never failed a drugs test in his racing career, but he was treated after it for amphetamine addiction at a psychiatric institute. Many stories circulate about his supposed wild behaviour after races and after his career was over and when he returned to racing, the Belgian federation would offer him a licence for only a day at a time until it saw how his life would progress. He refuses to speak of this period of his life.

Joe replied- "EdV was one of the best bike handlers the world has ever known. The dude could ride on a railroad rail as far as he wanted. Vlaams legend has it that it was when he stood on top of a church one night screaming "Ik ben God" that amphetamines were made controlled substances and were no longer available over the counter."

Wikipedia-Dietrich Thurau ("Didi") of Germany tested positive on 3 occasions in 1980 and again in 1987.

Joe replied- "I finished a race in Germany once and watched this dude ride up to our mechanic, grab the cleaning supplies out of his hand and procede to wash his bike, then mine and another one of my teammate's before going to the showers. He was high as fuck."

Wikipedia- Adri van der Poel the Dutch world cyclocross champion and Tour de France stage winner tested positive for Strychnine. He said that his father-in-law, had served a pigeon pie for Sunday lunch, and only when he tested positive did he realise that the pigeons had been doped with strychnine.

Joe replied- "This is actually true."

Wikipedia- Gert-Jan Theunisse of the Netherlands tested positive for testosterone during the Tour de France and received a ten-minute penalty which moved him from fourth to eleventh place overall.[84] He admitted in 2000 to using illegal substances during his career, according to an interview published by the Dutch regional newspaper Dutch "Eindhovens Dagblad". He confessed "to having used a great deal of Celestone," a corticoid, but he denied to having taken testosterone

Joe replied- "Normal" testosterone levels (as tested) are between 3000 - 8000. They used to not look at a rider until 10,000. Theunisse's was over 20,000. vdPoel told me that the dude used to bust a nut in the PDM bus simply by watching the porn - no hands on."

Wikipedia- Johan van der Velde of the Netherlands undertook hospital treatment for his addiction to amphetamines at the end of his career. He said in an interview with the author Jan Siebelink ("Pijn is genot") that he had trouble coping when that success began to dry up. Van der Velde said he remembered shivering at the start of an Italian race, the skin of his arms wrinkled in goosebumps, because of the amphetamine he had taken just to start. He was also disqualified from the 1981 Liege-Bastogne-Liege race.

Joe replied- "This dude was crazy! We were teammates in '90 and dropped out of the Fleche Wallone together. I watched as he chased this lady and her dog down the street - he was on his hands and knees, barking. He did a little stint in the clink for breaking into mailboxes. Our director joked that he was just really into stamp collecting."

Wikipedia- Geneviève Jeanson of Canada recorded a hematocrit level in excess of the allowable limit while with the Canadian National Team preparing for the World Championships in Hamilton, Ontario, in late 2003. She was required to withdraw from competition for two weeks. She explained the finding by reference to an oxygen tent which she used as part of her conditioning and training program. After years of denial, in an investigative documentary broadcast on Radio-Canada (the French-language CBC) on September 20, 2007, Jeanson acknowledged having taken EPO more or less continuously since age 16.

Joe replied- "Stevil, this is the chick who sent the shorts back to us at Castelli full of world champion pubes."

That view that you all are all in awe of right now? That's the view of the underside of professional cycling, looking straight up from the bottom.

I don't know about you, but from where I stand, it's breathtaking.

Saturday came and went, and with it, the chance to excuse myself for a bit more re-con for the Joe Parkin's-got-nice-hair-recognition-and-Dog-In-a-Hat-commemorative bicycle ride.
With two flats and a little bit of snacking, the ride ended up clocking in right around four hours, forty miles and judging by the almost unrecognizable form that my torso cramped into during one of the climbs, about 200,000 feet of elevation gain.

I saw some things that I'd like to share with you now.

First I saw this; (I think there may be an ocean out there.)

Then I saw this; (On a whim I took a right on a little trail/ravine that I'd only noticed once before, though had not ventured on to. To my surprise, it was the most buffed and lovely, secret little single track that I've ever had the pleasure to ride in California.)

Then emerging from that, I saw this;

When the trees finally cleared, I had a lovely view to the South East;

After rolling over hill and dale, and being chased for about a quarter mile by a rather unfriendly looking dog, I finally emerged back into the sun, and with a glance over my shoulder, decided to turn around and snap a shot of this;

And not to gloat, but I feel the need to remind you all that the date was January 18th.

...January 18th...

Every single frozen and god forsaken winter I ever spent in Colorado, every yard of driveway I had to shovel, and every single stick of firewood I ever had to cut and split.. And believe me, there were alot of them- are made up for bit by bit by days like this.

And yes, as a matter of fact I did have to walk to the bus stop, through the snow, uphill both ways, thankyouverymuch.

Though as a side note, I can't neglect to mention that the energy to sustain the aforementioned adventure was provided by our friends at Doma Coffee who have been unbelievably generous with the brown gold;

I hadn't noticed it before, but looking at that man in the fez is not alot unlike looking into a mirror.

Well my friends, here we are at the conclusion of another installment, and I'm feeling pretty good about it. I'd also like to mention that Demonika and I will be blowing this pop stand and heading for points North. Rest assured, I'll have a little somethin' somethin' up here Wednesday, but will be back in your loving ams sometime the following week.

El Corpo, Machine Wilkins, Pinto, and DanO, I leave the baby in your capable hands.
Make me proud.

And for the rest of you, I'll be counting the moments until we're together again.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 11:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (12) |

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 08:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) |

ROTHNOTHAGAR indeed.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 08:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) |

I truly am thankful that The Bummer Life audience is as multifaceted as you all are and don't get hung up on the fact that on this here bicycle weblog, sometimes we won't deal with bicycles at all, and will instead just post a photo of Dr. J cause it's sweet.

I mean, it's bicycle culture, right? And what is a culture comprised of but many different elements?
Kristen over there is really into classic cinema, horticulture, politics, Owen Wilson, and bicycles, while William on the other hand is all about screen printing, photography, baking, reality television shows and bicycles.

Maybe they would have something to talk about should they ever cross paths, but unbeknownst to them, week after week they meet up here, and find common ground.
Sure, bicycles are awesome, but I think that what makes the world go around is variety.

For those of you who do wish for me to stick to bikes, it ain't gonna happen, but lucky for you, the internet is an easily available universe with all of the unadulterated bike nerdery you could ever hope to shake a unidimensional stick at, and it's just one click away.

For the rest of you I offer up all that I am, with little fear of judgment.

Speaking of no fear of judgment, Snake Hawk, who is the president of the he-man, ass kickers club sent an email that had me crying like a baby;

"When I saw this today, mind you, on Drunkcyclist, I was not prepared. I was thinking it would be some sort of video about how to be a MAN, or some kind of super ultra MAN sort of advice or inspiration, because that's exclusively what I find on DC. Well, lo and behold, I was kicked squarely in my estrogen gland, and boy did it secrete. It was like driving over a ketchup packet. I started sobbing and reaching for kleenex in the way that I normally reach for my steak knife, shoe shine, or bullwhip. I was all asob (made that word up), and had to just pack it in for the afternoon. Emotions must be dealt with immediately or they will turn into big spiritual pimples and when you finally pop them, you will make a very big scene, and a painful mess right in the middle of your girlfriend's birthday dinner.

god dammit,
hawk."

That was such a compelling story that the Whitney Houston song almost didn't make me want to kill myself.
And yes, I too got a little teary eyed, but had to excuse myself because I can't show any sort of emotion in front of The Skipper, or he will strike me down where I stand.

George is another example of an individual of who is proficient at living all things 'everything';

"good evening Sir,

Attached within this email you will find some pictures explaining nothing other than a good time being had by all parties.

I rode my bike twice this week outside on snow/ice and a good amount of pavement in order to prep for the ole pueblo 24 plus I drank beer and tried to skate in the garage. We have been doing a lot of snow shredding too.

only 3 months till we're riding on dirt here; let the countdown begin.

also, Rain From The Sky sent this link which you may be into even though you retired from it!

Bacon. The hot accessory!

rock out this weekend!
g"

That last link reminded me that on Wednesday I spoke with John from Stroker Ace Screen printing and he asked me if I had any new shirt ideas. I said "Why yes. I'd like a shirt that says 'bacon tastes better with porn'."
Seriously, this stuff just comes to me.

We'll see if he can fit it in with his production schedule.

Have you all picked up your subscription to Bike Monkey yet?

You should cause it's awesome.

You know what else I recently decided was awesome?
Kiefer Sutherland.

The Likable Douchebag emailed me to lay a shout out up for his homie;

"My Brotha,
My baby girl, Ashley, has launched her new web site for her company Outlaw Earth. There’s a great story here, as she was about to lose her job at Circuit City she started this bag company and things just started working out. Give her a shout out if you’re feeling it.
CQ"

To be clear, Ashley is not actually a baby, nor is she a product of the douchebag's loins. She is a grown up with a fine taste in bag design and apparently if she really does know Cary, crappy taste in friends.

Moving on... Wednesday has come and gone and regardless of the threatening tone I laid out in an email to the usual suspects, initially the only player in this week's performance was 6'7" who showed up at the warehouse totally ready to go, with the exception of the fact that he didn't have lights, shoes or a dirt worthy bike. Never one to back down from a challenge though, he stuck to his guns, no matter how ill equipped they were.
It was a clear night, and the temperatures were balmy as we made our way to the gates, only to be met by Mr. Gill, and The Stick;

There we ate popcorn, drank beer, watched the stars rise, and took note as the temperatures dropped.
Conversation flowed into the night as we all parted ways to get to our respective warm spots.
As 6'7" and I descended, and slowly made our way through a small herd of deer, I heard him say something about the incredible night under a blanket of stars....

His poetic waxing was cut short and when I turned around he was gone. Retracing my tracks, I found him laying on the ground, knees bent, looking at the sky.
He began "... I think... my pump... went in... to my wheel...."

I turned my light to his bike and noted not that the pump was in the wheel, but rather the front fender had somehow doubled up on itself, stopping his wheel cold, sending every inch of himself crashing to the ground.

As if that particular insult wasn't enough, the added injury was the double pinch flat that occurred, presumably when the rear wheel came crashing down on the back of his skull.

Heres to you buddy. No matter how crappy the luck, you always commit to the crime.

Now we're gonna get into some news for yous to use;

The FedEx delivery guy came armed to the teeth yesterday with brim filled boxes of the new Cog photo annual;

At some point in the very near future we will have these available on the Swobo site, and as soon as I know anything more, I will blow it up here.
Secondarily, aside from the 40 virgins awaiting my arrival to Heaven, one of the other perks of being an industry luminary such as myself is being first in line for items such as this;

Those people at Cog take good care of me.

And me? In turn, I try to take care of you. Something I had attempted to remember last October after my trip to New York was to mention conversation after conversation I had with people when they learned I hailed from Northern California. "Ooooohhh.." they would start- "the thing that I love the most about the Bay Area is the Mexican food..."
Time and time again it was mentioned to me that despite all of the amazingness that New York City has to offer, as it turns out, it lacks in the Mexican food department.

Well my friends to the East, look no further because Florencia 13 NYC has arrived to save the day. I believe it was Florencia 13's Lennard that I spent some time with when I was there, and besides being a swell individual, he knows his Mexican food, so when you go there, tell them that Stevil sent you, and I promise that they most likely will have no idea what you're talking about.

Finally, we'll finish up with an email from one of our very own foot soldiers, Eric;

"Hey Stevil, or the person running this killer spot. You’ve featured me before as Omaha’s only bike messenger and an errant snapshot during last year’s trans iowa. But I decided it wasn’t about me anymore, about riding hard pissing off cars, or showing up at club rides and road races clad in black just to disrupt their ebb and flow. I have a strong desire to change Omaha Nebraska. We have made some good strides with activate Omaha, Bikes Belong and press from our local paper. But why settle?

We need culture, we need folks riding stoopid, riding for beer, riding to the grocery store or to a flik. But that is so unheard of here you're seen as a crazy bum who needs to grow up and get a car. So this is my crazy (ha) dream, and if it can happen everywhere else in America, why not here, why not now?

I’ve got to do real work now so this won’t be the last pice of propaganda from me. You were an inspiration to me, and I thank you for that.

-Eric Brunt"

Firstly, the photo of Eric mugging for the lens was shot by the esteemed Lucas Marshall, and secondly, thank you for the thank you, but as I previously stated, this isn't just a culture, but it's our culture. It's ours to shape and mold in any form we'd like it to take.
Everyone who tunes in here is admirably doing their part, just as I am attempting to do mine, and for that I'm damn proud of us all.

I'll keep fighting the good fight under the condition that you all promise to do the same.

As it happens every week like clock work, Friday is upon us, rearing its lovely head as it precedes to fill our proverbial tanks and prepare us for another week of battle.

No one knows what goodness is ahead for us, but it doesn't matter because it's ours to do with as we please.

On that note, lets hitch up our pants, and get the hell out of here.
Radness awaits.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) |

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) |

In a recent email from Tina B, she questioned whether or not our annual moustache party was set to happen again this Spring. I told her that I didn't know, but that out of habit, I had begun my training regiment just the same.
In years past we have had every sort of upper lip configuration ranging from the epicly epic, to the 'why'd you bother?' and in nearly every competition, my genetics and commitment to the event allowed me to emerge victorious.
Now of course as we all know, competition breeds excellence, and without exception, Sean (pictured here with Loudass) has consistently brought his A game to the table, not the least of which included his last year's legendary performance of tearing a phonebook in half;

They say that you are only as good as your last fight (bike race, karaoke performance, etc.) and with Sean chomping as hard on my heels for the last several years as he has, it is with a heavy heart that I now publicly announce my official retirement from the realm of simi-professional moustache competition.

The simple fact of the matter is that I think it only fair to allow some other people to enjoy the spoils of victory that I've known year after year.

Others.. like Steve 'Bee'fontaine for example;

At any rate, victory has been sweet, but the time to pass the torch is now, and should we be fortunate enough to experience The Moustache Bash in 2009, I will be throwing my hat into the ring as a hopeful judge, bringing with me many years of experience and an extraordinarily critical eye for greatness.

Speaking of greatness, here is a shot that David Pike sent to me of The Baron;

And speaking of speaking of things, as I'd mentioned on Monday, a bunch of years ago I co-piloted a team truck all over hell and back while working on the NORBA circuit. At one point while in Boulder (where they take cyclocross seriously, remember), David and I got into a fairly heated debate concerning a topic that is near and dear to my heart.

Blond women.

David made the outrageous claim that on the seminal television hit, The Fall Guy, stunt woman Jody Banks was played by the same actress who played officer Stacy Sheridan on T.J. Hooker.
Knowing this to be undeniably false, I engaged him in a heated argument which resulted in a bet.
We bet one another the shirts on our backs and the hair on our heads that each of us knew what we were talking about.

With the help of the internet, I of course was proven right (Jody Banks was played by Heather Thomas, and Stacy Sheridan was played by Heather Locklear.)

Now it should be noted that despite my rightness on the matter, David Pike never paid up, and I had all but lost track of his whereabouts, until fate would have it, sometime in early December, we received an order from him.

Never one to let sleeping dogs lie, I included printouts of the two individuals with cryptic and threatening notes informing him that I never forget, and that our debt had yet to be paid.

Being the standup guy that David is, he finally came through. Not with his golden locks and whatever crappy shirt he was wearing however, but with DVDs of season 1-4 of The Fall Guy, and a copy of the impossible to find Scott Baio, Willie Aames bonorific hit of the 80s, Zapped!.

For eleven years I've been gunning for David Pike, and now after all of this time, he's proven himself an honorable man, and I'm happy to announce that as of today, his debt has been paid.

Let this be a lesson to you all. It will be cold day in hell when I am unable to tell the difference between two women who taught my young mind about desire, and along with it, the fluttery sensation of boy-to-manhood.

But you know, I've been digressing all over the place lately. How come none of you have told me to "just stick to bikes"?
Nobody has brought that old chestnut out for a while.

Or does that one come out only when I'm discussing politics?

I can't remember.

What I can remember however, is my adolescent self loathing of three weeks ago, during which time I cut myself alot.

But being the professional that I am, I realized that is was a pretty prime way to advertise;

Once that healed, I decided that it was time for some positive self affirmation;

Eventually I realized that not only was it good for all of the aforementioned applications, but that this was an efficient way to remind myself of domestic necessities;

and to convey my most sincere wishes;

My razor blade and I are jointly rocketing off into our destiny. If you would like to join us, all you have to do is go here.

It's good, clean fun.

Of course from there, it's not such a far stretch to this next graphic, which was sent to me no less than ten times in 24 hours from all over the country;

Of course to really study this you'll need to go here.

I'd like to note that upon further investigation I found a glaring omission in that it's actually not physically impossible to have a band with three umlauts in it's name.
Case in point?

The short lived and relatively unknown band called Ümläüt.

But I said I was going to stick to bikes, and stick to bikes is what I'm going to do.

On Friday.

It's Wednesday today, (well, almost anyway, due to the fact that I'm posting this one on Tuesday night) and while the rest of the country is socked in and buried under winterness, we here on the Central Coast have been blessed with unseasonably warm weather.

Tonight seems to be as good a time to stick to bikes as any, and a full report will be forthcoming.

If I were to send you all postcards, they might say "the weather is here, I wish you were beautiful", but the front would most definitely look like this;

And on that note, color me gone.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (15) |

Right about now you might have wondered why there's a photo of biscuits and gravy on this week's header shot, or who the sweet looking lady in this post's entry is, both of which are valid questions that I'd be happy to answer.

(*Note* Upon further consideration, but primarily due to Uma's questioning of the biscuits and gravy's aesthetic value, I removed said photo. Regardless of how powerful my love for it is, I have now come to realize that biscuits and gravy just isn't that attractive, and despite the power of that love, the header shot isn't a place to display such affections.)

Anyhow, the biscuits and gravy, if you didn't know, is almost the perfect food. The season that JGH and I piloted the Tioga bomber all over the Northern Americas when traveling on the NORBA circuit many years ago, I made it my sworn mission to not only share myself with 1000 women, and drink 1000 beers, (the 1000 women never materialized, though the 1000 beers were a lock), but I was determined to eat biscuits and gravy in every state through which we traveled.

I made a pretty valiant attempt at this challenge, and sampled some excellent examples from far and wide, but aside from that which is made by my parents, the best I found was in a little place in Portland, Oregon.
The name of the eatery in question of course escapes me, but I can recall that there was a distinct Renaissance Fair feel about the place.

Secondly, the sweet little old lady is my great aunt Bea (pronounced Bay-ah) on her 85th birthday last March. On this day she proclaimed that she was going to outlive us all, and then turned to me directly and said that the secret to her longevity was a devotion to her life long passion of botany, drinking six pints of water every day, and amazingly, her one time access to absolutely pure LSD before, before as she put it, "Nixon and his band of Nazi thugs fu*ked it up for everybody."
She truly is one in a million...

No, I'm kidding.
I actually have no idea who that lady is.

Now from Marty, we present to you a tribute to our dearly departed Blagojevich, and his awesome, awesome hair;

Getting back to some bicycle related tom-dickery, Lukas from the The Moose Knuckle Alliance got ahold of us to drop a bit of science, as it were;

"Stevil,

I've been avoiding the Bummer Life myself for quite some time and really enjoy the laughs that your site gives that so generously promote said avoidance.

I was hoping, begging, imploring, that you could give us a little shout out. It seems that the one thing that joins us all together is the love of bikes and personally, the variety that you use on dirt. I can't imagine anything that would make my life more bummerer (yeah there is an extra -er) would be the loss of the trails that bring us such great joy. In an attempt to ensure this never happens, a band of us half wits have gathered together to try and raise money for the organization that protects our beloved trails, IMBA. The Mooseknuckler Alliance will be riding the 24 Hours in the Old Pueble as part of Team IMBA and we are desperately doing everything we can to raise money for said cause and in thus doing forever avoid the downfall of our lifestyle.

If you are so inclined we would be beyond stoked to be mentioned on the site or even just a general public announcement about the opportunity to donate to Team IMBA, which can be done here.

With all that said, I apologize, I know it was a long one, thanks again for the laughs.

Peace. Love. and Revolution.

-Lukas"

As I know that The Bummer Life audience is a big fan of the visuals, I contacted Lukas and asked for him to send me an accompaniment for his email, as I thought it might help to pack a greater punch.
I told him a shot of The Alliance in smoking jackets along side an albino tiger might do the trick, but that I'd leave it up to his discretion. What he replied with was this;

'Mooseknuckle' indeed.

In regards to Friday's William Spencer video, Maggie writes;

"Stevil-
William Spencer and his crew spend a lot of time in the industrial area behind my house (a lot of that video you posted was filmed back there, surprised my wayward dog didn't make any cameo's)-here's a relatively interesting article about them. thought you'd get a kick.
Maggie"

I don't remember being 20 years old, but I'm reasonably certain that aside from the making out with each other, and the desecration of stuffed animals, I probably would have gotten along pretty well with those cats, but you know.. when in Rome...

Nikki from Vans shoes recently declared "If my blog had a crush on another blog, it would be Gnarlitude".

I can't say that I disagree.
But of course, as far as web log romances go, a crush can never replace true love.

Alright, we'll wrap this up some some gratuitous bike shots, cause this is a bicycle related web log and that is what we sometimes do;

In the midst of all of this loveliness, the quote of the day was as follows;

Complayna- "It's a good thing we brought our water bottles."
Joop-"I drank mine"
Complayna- "Yeah, but yours had vodka in it."

This weekend the bummer life stared at us with it's steely gaze, and together we stood fast and preceeded to kick the crap out of it.

I can only hope that at some point or another over the course of the last two days, each and every one of you had the same blessing.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

Sighnhenge before and Signhenge after.

I realized that these shots might take a bit of clarification. It should be noted that this fiasco of signage in the top photo was the result of a very slight re-routing on the bike path which lasted about a year, and then ultimately was done away with, as shown in the bottom photo. Once they were all finally removed, what was left was a simple 'no pedestrians' sign. I gotta wonder.. Is there really no better way to spend money on bicycle infrastructure?

Duh.
No, scratch that..
Double duh.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

Stolen straight from the annals of The Drunk Cyclist, Matt Beringer avoids the bummer life better than just about anybody.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) |

I don't know about y'all, but I thought Wednesday's post was pretty awesome.

I mean even when I thought I was at the end of my rope and nearing a point where I feared the proverbial well had run dry, I'm still able to bear down and squeeze that one out.

Where my raw talent comes from is a mystery even to me.

You all are dying to see what's come across my desk in the last 48 hours I'll bet.
Well let us wait no further.

After experiencing all that is The Bummer Life, I sincerely doubt that any of your brains could handle everything that GWCTOH is becoming, so assuming you haven't checked it in a day or two, what you've missed is one of the greatest YouTube finds in recent history that was brought to us by none other than Sparrow himself.
All hail the total insanity that is William Spencer.

God only knows what William could do with this place...

From there we really have nowhere to go but down.
That being said, let's dive headlong into the mail bag.

First up, Dr. jOn sent us the best that Flickr has to offer.
Would somebody buy that and send it to Cannondale?
It would only be right.

Then from Daniel we get this bit that could only be outdone by a portrait made of peanut butter, bananas, and barbiturates;

Then Doug got ahold of us with some thoughts on proper bicycle fit;

"I wonder if he figured the handlbar position all by himself, or if he logged onto the bummer and was inspired.

The second pic is a PSA for all those people out there who are avoiding the bummer of life through excess embibing and bacon intake."

First of all, as soon as my dad gets his Otis, he can stop embarrassing me and will no longer have to get around town on that beater and then, as I replied to Doug, that looks to be a Pacman atop a pile of intestines shooting poo out of a revolver. Am I seeing this correctly?

It doesn't make me love bacon any less.

Nor does this news clip that Matt sent in about the world's oldest women.

Bless her incredibly old and sweet heart.

In a fit of randomness, Ben from Handsome Cycles also sent in a collection for our edification;

"Sir,
A few quick items from the fine folks at Handsome Cycles. First the Delta Burke Bra line that I stumbled upon at Ross, seen here.
Next, a shot of my favorite star walk of fame in Palm springs, seen here.
And finally Jon Sweet from Uptown Tattoo, hands down best shop in Minnesota and could kick just about anyones ass in the US just dropped some serious detail into my leg piece yesterday, seen here.

Toodles, -Ben"

I don't know about you all, but $6.99 for Delta Burke's bra seems like a rocking good deal to me.
Hell, I'd probably pay almost double for it.

Apparently inspired by the bit I recently put up about postcards, among a handful of gems I've received from you good people, Sean sent one that I had to share;

That just made me feel good all over, which is a good thing as I haven't been experiencing much of that lately.
Seeing as we're among friends here, I have no shame in admitting that the holiday season tends to drop me right into a pit of depression and frustration.
I have no logical reason for this, but it is a sensation that has increased every year for the last decade or so, with no sign of letting up, so even a small gesture such as Sean's tends to give me a tether to reality on which to cling until the mood passes.
Something else that keeps one foot grounded in hopefulness is the rare occurrence that I wake up and have no guilt about calling in sick and partaking in a lone jaunt to nowhere in particular, which is exactly what I did on Wednesday;

Concluding the ride, I then passed by a whimsical example of random and rudimentary heavy metal graffiti;

Now of course I don't condone the marking up of a sacred place such as this, but it stopped me in my tracks, and made a profound enough of an impression that I had to stop to snap a shot anyway.

As I rode away with my legs feeling heavy and my jersey wet with sweat, I couldn't help but feel good just the same.

And with that, we'll jump way the hell over to the other side of topics and finish up with our first Friday Hero in a while sent in to us from Phil;

"Hey Stevil,
I'd like to submit this kid for friday hero status. A friend of mine sent me this link to a newspaper story about a 9 year old kid from the same Ju-Jitsu school she goes to, that threw a choke hold on a pitbull that was attacking a 12 year old girl.

sincerly,
Phil from SLO"

All I have to say about that is I suspect that dog will choose his adversaries more carefully from here on out.

As we stand here on the ass end of the week, I sincerely hope that you all have a tremendous couple of days ahead of you with an ample supply of poppin', lockin', and moustache rockin'.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

This is Bob. Bob's fiancé Jennifer (who unbeknownst to her, happens to be my fiancé as well) sent a request to give old Bob a shout out for his birthday, which happens to be today. At 25 years old, Bob's not looking so good, but his spirit is young, and really, the sore back and swollen knees aside, when it gets right down to it, isn't that all that matters?
Anyhow Bob, from your substantially better half, as well as your friends at Swobo, happy birthday mate, and here is to at least 25 more.

Now then, it's time to get to business. we've got alot of stuff on deck, as well as the unenviable chore of trying to recall the last week in an attempt at throwing it all up here for your eyes and ears.

First up, Hurl and his doughnut queen made a blitzkrieg trip though our burgh, which ultimately resulted in him battling with Complayna for a garbage can to barf in, but up until that point, we did some of this;

-it should be noted that the above image is in contention for the cover of their yet unformed band's album cover.
Then when the posing was complete, we did some of this;

..to the secret stash;

Truth be told, we really didn't need to hit the secret stash up as we were carrying a rather unreasonable amount of spirits on our persons as it was, but we drank these just for the novelties sake, and then promptly replenished the booty.
After touching rubber to terra firma, and spirits to tounge, we disbanded to civilization and nourishment. The long and the short of which, for me anyhow, resulted in the snorting of a shot of whisky.
Snorting.
Through the nose...
I don't recommend you try the same.
I'm reasonably certain that there is video footage of the act somewhere, but if you all feel similarly about the matter as I do, it's probably better that 'somewhere' is where it stays.

Then eventually, much like the best high school parties that you don't remember, Hurl ate some butter;

and then some people got squished;

There was a ride planned for the following day, but Hurl was busy sticking a breakfast sausage in the Queen's navel, which ultimately opened the door for more hijinx.
Like, for example, helping him with yoga;

We're healthy people, with healthy habits, except for when I accidentally pushed him off the deck and he burned himself with his cigarette.

But like I was saying.. 'healthy habits'- Not alot unlike those that this guy probably routenly partakes in;

I would also like to note that the above clip is especially powerful if while you watch it you listen to Foreigner's 'Hot Blooded' at the same time.

While people the world over were recovering from the standard holiday tradition of overeating, overdrinking, and just generally over everything-ing, I made my way to The Bay Area to abuse my body a little more, and when you spend time with a motley crew such as the one below, that's not such a stretch.

Again, keep your eyes and ears peeled, because since this photo was taken, there is a good chance that these folks too will soon be starting a band.

And speaking of which, a few weeks ago I made mention of my favorite new music group, The Worship of Silence. The individual who's got the throat in the band is a whipper snapper named Joe, who upon my arrival to Oakland eagerly took delivery of a new Sanchez;

The transaction went smoothly, and the cops hardly even questioned us at all, then upon it's conclusion he slipped me a copy of their new disk, 'In The Early Hours', which is a fine, fine piece of work.

The world wide availability of the disk will be forthcoming, and you can bet that as soon as I know how each and all of you can get your grubby mits on one of your own, Ill blow it up all loud and proud-like here.

Another fit of fancy that I was notified about was the completion of Amigo number four's brand spanking new Blue Collar mountain bike;

As I previously mentioned, good things do happen to bad people, however there is no word yet about whether or not Robert included a roll of lead slugs in the seat tube, as is his habit when building bikes for his friends.
Or maybe that was just mine.

Anyway, the first person who can correctly guess where each of the letters for the down tube decal came from gets a swift kick in the pants for having the uncanny ability for being able to recall such things.

The mail bag got a bit wonky over the break, and with literally hundreds of emails to sort through, and no time or energy to do it, I had to pare them down to the very minimum, the first being from Grant;

"Stevil,

Thinking of redecorating your parlor for the new year? Birdweiser might be available. A true visionary always sports a pair of Budweiser pajama pants. You can check him out in all of his glory here.

Happy New Year-
Grant"

You know, that man has got a vision equal to a modern day Fred Sanford. I've got half a mind to help the brother out, and ship off our own collection for him to use;

Out of my own sheer generosity and willingness to help him realize his dream, I'll even throw in all of the fruit flys for free.

This next item was sent to me a few times, but the first of which was by none other than The Bike Snob himself.

It would appear as though, much like day to day operations in general, I have also been kept in the dark about this very cutting edge piece of fashion, the brand new Bike Snob, Swobo collabo.

We truly have arrived.

Now up in the promised land of the North, where the the fool hearted souls are still riding their 10 speeds in the dirt, there is yet a little more action for me to notify those in the region about;

Before I forget, I'd like to show off the gift that my friend and great, great grandson of San Francisco's first mayor, Harvey gave me for the holidays;

The note that was attached said simply 'Stevil, don't be a dickhead".
The view from this ivory tower is quite nice, thank you.

Now truthfully, while the view is nice, it's nowhere near totally, and utterly the best of the best.

Well, here we are, back at the grind with a whole new year before us. I think all that is left to do now is to include an email I got from Jim;

"Awesome. Simply awesome.

I hope you're having a great holiday season. In the past week I've killed 1.5 cases of beer, a fifth of Russell's Reserve, the better part of a handle of Beefeater, some unspecified amount of vermouth and olives, and... um... some other stuff. Not sure what exactly, basically whatever was handy. Oddly enough, I've not been hammered, just been comfortably buzzing along like a bee on a Dutch tulip farm. Now I know what it felt like to be Winston Churchill, except for the part about me not being a wealthy, aristocratic, beloved and brilliant world leader.

All the best,

Jim"

Jim might not be a wealthy, aristocratic, beloved and brilliant world leader, but he's ours, and that's good enough for me.

Until he actually becomes all of those things, and then each of those times I was nice to him is really going to pay off.

The avalanche is coming, so I'm gonna pull the plug on this installment and bid you all a fond farewell for now.

To paraphrase The Black Sheep-

"You simply put your foot forward in a direction. That's called a step, and then you follow with the next one."

-And remember, unless you're this guy, you're not guaranteed a tomorrow. Live it up when you can, while you can.

That's good advice.

Xs and Os,

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 12:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) |

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) |