Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 08:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) |

I love the wordplay.

I also would love some baby slippers.

I don't have much use for babies, but I am a huge fan of slippers.

The above photo was shot by Steph Goralnick of Brooklyn, New York and taken from her Flickr page with permission.

Now then, let us get on to the party that is Friday. I can't believe the weekend is already upon us.
It seemed like just yesterday I was listening to a group of soggy souls cursing my name in the rain, and lo and behold here we are again, poised to do it all over.

What does the weekend have in store for you all?

I'm excited because the tall drink of water known as Aden has touched down on the best coast, and I've been hearing the muted cries of grief emitting from soon to be decimated cocktails.

For your edification, and so just so you know that I know a thing or two about Post Modernism, here is a photo of The Aden, pointing to a photo of The Squid, and The Squidlet, while the ghost of Carlos gazes on.

Anyway, back to the weekend for a second.. I'm thinking that there will be some bicycle riding in there as well, and I might even go out on a limb and change my pants..

You see, what makes weekends kick so much ass is that they are ours.
Ours to do with as we please, and nearly no one (except sometimes boy/girlfriends, husbands/wives or dads/moms) can tell us what to do with them.

So with that bit of insight and inspiration, with the strings all attached and what not, let's dive headlong into the mail bag and see what's cracking.

How about this clip, containing almost everything there is to love about two wheels?

Ok.. Screw that. It looks like it was yanked.
How about we try it here?

In Chicago this past Saturday our friends from Cog Magazine had a release party for their new photo annual.

I've asked Kevin to write up a little blurb about it on GWCTOH, with his abundance of free time (seriously, my man is one of the hardest working people in the business) but until then, feast your eyes on the photos within their Flickr page. When Swobo blows up, and we're burning money to keep warm while sitting inside our mountain top palace watching monkey knife fights, I would like to be able to attend events such as these on the regular so that I might be able to provide first hand reports, but until then we'll have to settle on what various little birds tell us.

El Corpo sent this next item on to me with no note attached, so I had to figure it out for myself;

At first glance I thought the pedal spindle was a schrader air valve, which actually makes more sense to me then what it turned out to be.

As I noted to him in a reply concerning Garret's quote up top "I wanted a pedal that matched my lifestyle"- If that lifestyle includes one with no toes, then I absolutely understand this invention.

Otherwise, then I find it to be right along the lines of this;

That my friends, is a prime example of fashion landing right about four feet above function.

Fashion>Function, you dig?;

Hey, so lets talk about the nation wide peanut poisoning for a second, shall we?

Nick sent us this bit of news regarding my lucky number maybe not being so lucky.

Undeterred, I am still consuming peanut butter at a record pace, just to tempt fate.
And not that they have been affected by the bad nuts, but I contacted my very favorite energy bar company company recently to see about getting a pro form so that I might load up on their delicious bars for my own use.

I first spoke with someone in marketing, and the conversation went along these lines;

"Hey there, this is Stevil from Swobo. We are a bicycle and bicycle related clothing manufacturer in Northern California, and I was contacting you in hopes that I could get a pro form so that I might buy some of your fine product in bulk for myself."

To which the gentlemen on the other end of the line said "Um. What is a pro form? You want free product?"

"No", I continued. "I was hoping that you all might extend an industry consideration so that I could buy some at a whole sale price."

"Uhh.. Um. I don't think we do that. Maybe call the Northern California office and speak with *******. He might be able to help you out."

Thanking him for his time I hung up and called *******, giving him the same intro which was also met with dead air. I again explained what an industry deal was to which he said "So, uh.. you want to trade industry deals?"

"Sure" I said, "if that works for you. As we both are operating within realms of basically the same industry, I wanted to see if you all had an insider deal you could extend."

"Um.. well, I just have a beach cruiser.. I don't really need that sort of thing. Maybe you should call the guy you spoke to before again..."

Ever since I was a bicycle messenger, I never hesitated to occasionally contact someone within the industry for help and a little nod with product, and I have never been turned away. That is just how it's always worked. I certainly never assumed that a company would extend a pro form, but I've never experienced a company that didn't even know what one was.

Anyway, maybe I just happened to get the two night janitors on the line, so if anyone from Pro Max reads this, give your boy a call.
Your product has pulled me out of some dire sugar crashes, and salmonella scare or not, your peanut butter bars are my favorite.

It's been a while since we've heard from The Capitan and gotten a taste of life from his side of the street, but he's a busy man with a full plate, so we can't expect too much from him. Even still, while jet setting from one city to the next, he found time to ruminate on a topic that most of us know all too well;

"I've been in a cave. Well, several caves as it were. From the lonely plains of the frigid midwest on family business to the fawning masses of cycling fans at the Tour of California, and quite a few airport bars in between. The airport bar is curious place. I am reminded of the lines in Fight Club about "single serving friends" when I am in these places, because that's what you get. I have picked up a chick in an airport bar who later I saw naked. I have met a customer as well who has since turned into a one of my biggest customers.

All by dumb luck of bellying up to a bar where the booze bottle have measuring dispensers on them. Certainly wouldn't want to give a good tipper an extra splash on his drink now, would we? Aside from the aformentioned folks, it's all short term fun. Sports talk. Booze talk. Weather talk. Women talk. Akin to any conversation you may have with a cabbie, except here you get to get snockered. You don't fly the plane, so who cares? And when in airport bars, all protocol about what time of day you lower your snout into a beverage is out the window. If you're in an airport bar (invariably named someone's first name or a sports reference - Jim's, The Dugout, etc) you can drink no matter what the clock says.

6am on an all day to Hong Kong? Bloody Mary, please. Some drink to help sleep when on those godforsaken 122 degree airplane seats. Some drink because it's vacation time. Some drink because they're drunks and they have to. The latter mention harbors the most curious of sorts, and one to whose ranks I belong - the traveling salesman. We're a pretty sad lot, us sales sorts. Sure, we've got miles and points up the ying yang, but it's not really any way to live a life. Staring down a torsioning tube and at the backs of 100+ anonymous heads with another five dollar bill at the ready to hand to a battle axe of a steward....er, flight attendant is the life. Sort of. And while waiting to be herded onto said tubes with said strangers the only place to appropriately prep for this is the bar, just two gates down."

For those of who who aren't trapped in an airport bar this weekend, there is the 11th annual Grasshopper series to consider.
Unlike the ride I put together last weekend which promised to be kinda epic, this series promises to be totally epic;

Any and all information that one might want to find on this can be found at Grasshopper Adventure Series(dot)blogspot(dot)com.

I tell you, between The Hell of The South and The Grasshopper, there are some suffering loving fools in our midst.
Bless their bruised and strained hearts.

In conclusion I'd like to add that on Thursday Andrew from Pole Riders gave me a call to discuss product placement, or sponsorship possibilities.
He is a good guy with great energy. Like what they're doing or hate it, you have to give them props for their gumption.
Hell, I'd just like to ride one of those bikes around..

Oh yeah, and P.S.- the photo contest is still in full swing. Not until I have a complete collection to choose from will a winner be picked. Get to snapping pics folks. The shirts can be yours, if I'm sufficiently dazzled.

Anyway, enough of this nonsense. You good people have a whole world of possibilities awaiting you. Turn your computers off and go give some of those possibilities a chance.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) |

Holy cow, this past weekend's ride was awesome. Alot of folks I expected to see didn't show, but then again, a turnout of 20 people in the midst of driving rains certainly doesn't suck either.

As Joe, JMac and I neared the launching point, I turned to them and said, "if nobody shows up, I think we should just go to the bar" to which they enthusiastically agreed. Unfortunately for the bartender who's tips remained unpaid, there were alot of folks sitting tight, awaiting our departure. I opted to wait 30 minutes for stragglers, but when you are soaked to the bone and the actual ride has not even yet begun, stragglers be damned, and we were off.

I kept claiming that once within the trees, we would stay dry, which most definitely was not the case. I was persistent on this point to which Torin eventually exclaimed "so where are these umbrella trees you keep talking about?"

Touché Torin... Touché.

As the organizer, (I use the term very loosely) I opted to attempt at keeping folks in relatively close proximity to one another, the plan for which immediately unraveled.
Eventually opting to simply let go of the reins, we all made our way into the forest, and up the seemingly endless climb to our first meeting spot;

A couple of local honches blasted off the front, so I figured instead of keeping any sort of line tethered to them, I'd attempt to at least try and maintain some semblance of unity within the second group, which proved to be fruitless, as all but two of them turned back. Once at the summit, Zach and I not only waited for the others to join us, but for the rain to stop, the former eventually occurring, the latter absolutely not;

Making the assumption that we were the last to be passing through these parts, (which was eventually proven to be incorrect) we continued on to the trail, which at this stage in the game was little more than a rocky creek, but undetered, we pressed on;

For a brief moment the rain turned to a heavy drizzle and we could actually see a sliver of coastline as we stopped on the ridge to take in the scenery;

Except for Juan, who in the above shot anyway, looks as if he's questioning why exactly he was here.

Thankfully, at the end of many more miles of being towed (dragged) along by the Rotstein wonder twins, and ingesting gallons of water being thrown up off of the various rear tires in front of me, (fenders were a rare commodity on this ride) we rounded the bend to see the beacon of hope that was the Swobo E-Z Up over the back of my truck, the tail gate piled high with donuts, coffee, and libations, it's orange cheeriness covering Tina B's fetching footwear, and welcoming faces;

As the shivers set in for the remaining few, the last of our compatriots disbanded to the dry confines of their homes, or heated chariots.
Joe and I looked at each other for a brief moment, contemplating how easy it would be to simply throw our bikes in the back of the truck and make our way home, but out of respect for the effort that all who attended put fourth, we immediately dashed the thought and headed back out into the rain for the final push.

It was late in the evening when I finally heard that The Reverend and The Jewford were in fact behind us, fighting for their lives, and holding true to our cause. By the time they rolled through, the whisky stop had pulled up stakes and split. If I had any regrets about our adventure, it is that we didn't offer support to these two unfeigned soldiers working so hard to keep the bummer life's attacks stemmed from the rear.

I now declare from atop my soap box, that this event will be taking place again when the days are longer and the skies are dryer and for those two, I will wait on bended knee to offer the services that they missed out on during this trip.

I have made this loop regularly in recent days, and can say without hesitation that completing it in the mud and rain was ten times harder then it is when it's dry. So aside from reiterating my congratulations to Joe, I want to offer my most humble thanks to everyone who came out, and I look forward to doing it all over again in far more forgiving conditions.

Now that all of that is out of the way, let's get to the mail bag.

Jesse wrote in with some motivation in the form of grown men in underpants and tap shoes;

"Stevil,

Last Thursdays Tour of California stage ending in Paso Robles where Cavendish won the sprint inspired this motivational poster.

Based on his hand gesture after winning I think he was showing off to the ladies in the crowd: "Hey, check out my package and then tell ya sistas I beat Tom Bonen." If only we all could achieve such extraordinary levels of humblness.

Enjoy,
Jesse"

It takes an individual of great strength and fortitude to emerge victorious from such a grueling event, and still have the wherewithal to point out his junk.

Sometimes I'll be skating casually through life under the impression that my existence is relatively complete, and then Aaron from Seattle will email me with a clip that punches a hole right the hell through that theory, because it makes me realize that I don't have a cabinet door that sounds like Chewbacca.

Though Chewbacca and The Bigfoot aren't exactly in the same ballpark, they are big, brown and furry, and since the following email from Dave in Boulder (where they take cyclocross seriously) mentions Bigfoot, it's appropriate that it should follow Aaron's clip;

"I know it's blurry (like photos of sasquatch), but all the delicious-looking stuff in this photo is bacon!

Ya gotta get up pretty early in the morning to see this much bacon in Boulder...

Dave"

My heart just stopped.
..And not in the good way.

685 sent us a scan of a correspondence from back when he ran the mean streets;

Sometimes it takes tough love to get your point across.

I've been sitting on the following clip for a while, and today seems as good a time as any to present it here if for no other reason than because it just makes sense;

Toby from Toronto sent us this flyer and an email that began "What's up Freight Baggage?..."
Assuming he misspelled 'Swobo', I'll go ahead and throw it up here for the edification of any and all in that neck of the woods;

Concerning an occasional bugaboo that's been relayed to me about having to click back through links here on How To Avoid The Bummer Life to get back to our site, George mailed me with some technological mumbo jumbo that might do away with the aforementioned bugaboo;

"yo dude,
I was messing around with hyperlinks on my blog and found that if you add the words- target="_blank" -just after the URL (with the quotes), that the link will open in a new window. That is my only occasional complaint with HTABL, because there are so many links and to check them out you always have to go back and forth reloading the page.

All problems are solved here.

word bro - hope the weekend is going killer
g"

Seeing as getting the water to become hot in my shower is about as far as my mind can travel in terms of problem solving, that doesn't make a hill of beans worth of sense to me, but hopefully it will make somebody's life easier.

Evan, Yo! emailed me with a clip that begs a question;

"Stevil-

Thought you'd enjoy this.

evan, yo!"

That question of course being when the hell is the UCI going to enforce wider TT starting ramps?

And of course this doesn't have anything to do with that, but Eric emailed us with a link to help us keep our blacks the blackest;

Here's something worthwhile- Heavy metal laundry tips.

How to keep those sleeveless concert tees looking their "grandma best"

-Eric"

You wouldn't believe how much I needed to read that. Soon enough, I'm gonna be the sharpest, and most well pressed individual in the pit.

There's nowhere to go from here but down, so with that, I will go ahead and pull the plug on this installment and wish you all well until next time.

And remember- like the USPS, not rain, sleet or snow will keep us from doing our jobs, which in our case is going out and avoiding a bummer life.

..That is unless it does.

In which case, there are always cartoons to watch-

Or bartenders to tip.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

As I tend to field all of the sponsorship requests that come through these parts, due to the fact that we well over extended ourselves last year in that department and the general crap state of the economy this year, more often than not I unfortunately have to decline.

Every now and again however, a request for help comes along that we just cant ignore.

Case in point? This one from our friend Tod.

"I along with some friends and collaborators (including the street artist Swoon) are preparing for the most ambitious bit of living I have ever done. The past three summers we (along with a crew of 30+ other people) have traveled on junk rafts down both the Mississippi and Hudson rivers. This coming Spring/Summer we will be building three junk rafts in Slovenia and traversing the coast of the Adriatic Sea to eventually land in Venice. After that, along with a few other members of the crew, I plan to join a couple friends from the Black Label Bicycle Club to travel by bicycle through Japan and Indonesia, exploring their different underground bike cultures along the way. All told, this voyage looks to be 4+ months, living outdoors, traveling either on junk rafts or bicycles in a wide variety of climates.

This is a pretty crazy voyage, and we are currently fundraising practically every weekend to try and make it happen. I am looking for companies to sponsor me to help me be adequetely prepared for this trek. Mainly I am looking for a waterproof messenger backpack, or other bike/trekking gear. I don't know if I am going to be able to get my bike over there, or will have to fix up a beater wherever I am. My bike is also kinda "eh", a frame I found in the trash and fixed up with bartered parts. So rolling on a folding tall bike (what the rest of the crew will be riding) seems a better bet anyway. Just have to find the parts and build one, hmmm. . ."

Yeah, it's an understatement to say my man is ambitious..

Hell, I was so taken with Tod's proposal, I sent him my own personal Ortlieb backpack to aid in his cause.

Like everything in life however, you cant get something for nothing, and in exchange for the goods we sent, we asked him to please keep us in the loop with a few words and a few shots every now and again as the adventure progresses.

We look forward to hearing about how this all transpires.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) |

We did it. We banged out the whole loop, and now Im left with spaghetti legs, and mush mouth.

Instead of making my brain smolder by thinking hard, I'm going to go ahead and repost a bit I put up on Friday's GWCTOH.
I'll have news on Wednesday, but for now, I'm still wringing tears out of my jersey;

"Late Friday night, 6'7" and I were discussing why a Hollywood cinematic feature had not yet been made of the six day race events, that at a time were bigger in America than God."

"We began poking around Al Gore's internet and found that not a Hollywood epic, but rather a documentary had actually been made called Six Day Bicycle Race- America's Jazz Age Sport. Now this might be old news as I tend to spend a fair amount of time living under a rock, and you all are sitting in your chairs reading this saying "sheesh.. that guy is such a noob. Maybe he ought to come out of beneath that rock once in a while and tell us about something new."

"In all fairness to me, I like it down underneath this thing, and it's decorated immaculately, but nevertheless, I was so taken by the web site's featured clips that before I knew it, I dropped exactly one day's pay on the book and DVD combo.
I've checked to see if Netflix has it, which at this point they do not, so you needn't worry about ordering it, placing it on top of your queue and then having to wait even longer for the latest Steven Segal straight to DVD blockbuster.
Rest assured that as soon as it arrives, I'll watch it and then write up a review, complete with misspellings and inappropriate phrases."

*Editor's note- This was the first time I've ever used the term 'noob' and I have to be honest with you. I didn't like it very much.
I'm very sorry to have put you all through that.*

At any rate, I hope everybody had nice weekends as well. I'll get back with you soon.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) |

Firstly, I know GenO's front brake cable is too short. Ordinarily it's run motorcycle style, but we switched it so that we didnt have any OTB misshaps while skidding around the warehouse, making bald spots on his rear tire.

Secondly, in preparation for the death march that Sunday's nice hair ride will most assuredly be, The Skipper has jumped head first into the Carmichael Training System.

Not Chris Carmichael.. His cousin Daryl.

He knows way more about training and stuff than Chris does.

One thing that Daryl definitely knows is that when more than five people assimilate on bicycles, it doesn't mean that it's a race.

This point being missed by more than just a few in regards to Sunday's event.

As I've replied to many individuals regarding Sunday's 'race'- There will be many more opportunities for us to prove our mediocrity, and perceived self worth as bicycle 'racers' in the coming months, however the 'Joe Parkin-has-nice-hair and-wrote-a-book-about-it ride' is not such an occasion.

Now then.. Are you sitting down?
Do you have a drink in your hand?
Is there anything sharp nearby?

If you answered yes to all of these questions, then you are ready to read this bit that Brett just sent to me.
If however, you answered no to any of them, do what it takes to make it so.

"PRESS RELEASE VH1/Viacom Corp. For Immediate Release Jan. 12, 2009

New Season of Rock of Love to Feature Metal Legend Glenn Danzig.

VH1 announced today that producers are now filming a new season of Rock of Love featuring metal/punk/horror-core legend, Glenn Danzig. The new show, which will premiere this July, is called "Rock of Love: Bride of Satan with Glenn Danzig." Danzig is well-known in metal and punk circles as one of the founding members of 1980s horror-core punk rockers Samhain. He went on to the form hard-rock band Danzig, which scored several top 40 hits in the late '80s including "Mother" and"She Rides."

*Danzig, pictured here with that guy from Mr. Show who's name I can never remember.*

Both a singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, Danzig is also well-known for his interest in the occult and all things evil. VH1 producers stated that introducing the element of Satanism would inject new life into the Rock of Love franchise as well as reach a different audience niche -- jokingly referred to by insiders as "the black market." The new series will follow the traditional Flavor of Love/Rock of Love format with a group of 20 women vying for the affection of the celebrity musician. However, at the insistence of Mr. Danzig, the winner will enter into a legally-binding marriage with Satan in a ceremony that is sure to test the limits of basic cable censorship standards. Although network executives are keeping a tight lid on the show's planned shennanigans, a few details have been leaked about planned challenges."

Are you sitting slack jawed, staring at your computer screen right now?

...Cause I am.

I don't know where to go from here.
I'm kinda in a daze.

Um.. Lets go to the mail bag, I guess.

Long time commenter, Gastonomicus Fantz Crazznapper IV wrote in from Texas.

You know.. "Texas- The place I write snappy slogans for."

"Hey Stevil,

What do you want to know about Texas?
I've been living in Austin/Houston Texas a long time.
I might be able to point you in the right direction or help you find something.

This is me and mine, avoiding the bummer life last weekend.

Sincerely,
Gastonomicus Fantz Crazznapper IV"

Crazznapper carving frontside over a sweet little angel faced hobo.

I've mentioned a favorite old skateboarder here before that goes by the name of Garry Scott Davis.
I've even still got one of his tiny boards;

Anyhow, you see that cubby where the sweet little angel faced hobo is laying her head in Crazznapper's photo?
I think Garry used to live there.

At this time of the year we as cyclists set our sights on the impending Spring classics, including my favorite, as you all know- The Hell of The North.
Well, apparently inspired by the feats of 'the hard men', some Midwestern nutters have got their own kind of tribute cooking, a few of which have passed on the information for me to share.

D.J.J.M writes;

"Hey Stevil!

Starting Friday the 13th (of course) general registration for the 3rd edition of the Madison-Basco-Madison Spring Classic (The Hell Of The South this year) opened up to the teaming masses and I wanted to send you the flyer courtesy of Creepy Friendly hisself Jesse Lalonde.

Don't know if you want to put it up on Bummer Life or not but it's a damn purty piece of artwork if anything else.
And here's the link for the race info and kittens in general.

yee and ha. thanks fer doin' all the great work you do and for keeping we bike freaks entertained during the long hours of winter.

djonnymac"

You're welcome, and thank you.
Plus I'm not ashamed to mention that I've developed a man-crush on those Lalonde brothers over the last few years, and I think I can say with confidence that I'm not the only one.

Now then, if you strain your eyes out over the horizon, and perk your ears up real keen like, you might sense a rumbling. That ominous sound you feel is that of a brand new Bummer Life contest.
Last night I was looking through some random bicycle website or another and the moderator of said website was having a photo contest.
The photos contained therein were all poetic journeys through varying slices of bicycle commuterdom and what not.

"I'd like to have a contest like that" I said to myself, "but I want photos that are not only about bicycles, but that contain oh, so much more."
Would you like an example, perhaps?
How about this one from GenO at OneonOne;

But no need to use this one as a template.
I want fresh eyes looking through fresh cameras, shooting fresh images of sexy, sassyness. Images that conjure up the spirit of the ride as well as the headache the next day.
I want fire works and bare backs.
I want rope swings and wool socks.
I want blood and love and boys and girls and grilled cheese sandwiches and rock and roll hijinx galore.

What do you get for your efforts, you ask?

Well, aside from having your name in lights, I'm willing to part with one of my very most prized possessions;

You see, Ive only worn this t-shirt a couple of times, (one of which I jumped on Robert Ives' back, and was then pushed through a plate glass window) but it was enough to change the color of the collar to a pleasant yellow hue, and then for me to realize that it was a little too small, the first of which was awesome, but the second of which was heart breaking.

So aside from the shirt, I'm also willing to part with a real honest to goodness brand new Swobo t-shirt that I haven't stained with my personal biology, so as of right now the ball is in your court.

And not that I want to see any photos like the following one, but it does give me the opportunity to show you my Thurday morning commute;

At any rate, I'm sitting here waiting to be dazzled, and I know you all, the inspired group that you are, are ready to do the dazzling.

All entries will be posted on our Flickr page for everyone to see.

Now then my friends, the clock starts now.

Well, the weekend is upon us, and on Monday I'll either have a full report and a bunch of shots of happy, dry, bike riding people, or a full report and like, two shots of Joe, Complayna and me standing in the mud.
At this point it's anybody's guess.

To wrap up today's post, it is with a heavy heart that I announce this week's Friday Hero.

Ben Davis, maker of my very most favorite brand of pants as well as other various articles of work wear, died on Friday after a long battle with Parkinson's disease.

Go with God, Mr. Davis. Without the likes of you and Swobo, I would be naked, and I can guarantee that nobody would want that.

Have a great weekend everybody.
As always, the time for now is NOW.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 09:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) |

Let us not forget one and all that in just a few very short days, the long anticipated Joe-and-Bob-both-have-nice-hair-recognition-and-also-Joe-wrote-a-book commemorative ride is going to take place.

I can't neglect to also mention and offer thanks to the individual who initially sparked this idea, The Little Jewford.

If anybody has taken note of what's going on outside in this here neck of the woods, then you know it's been raining buckets. It is supposed to clear up towards the end of the week, so we're looking good, but if it doesn't, then were looking like Belgium, and that's ok too.

Remember, if the ride is awesome, then I'll take all of the credit.
If the ride sucks balls (in the bad way), then The Jewford gets all the blame.

It's a win-win.

But anyway, it wouldnt be a bad idea to come prepared for a deluge just the same. Fast people will ride fast, and then stand around and wait in the cold, so that means the fast people will get drunk and be uncomfortable, and the slow people will maintain a comfortable level of body warmth, and probably get drunk too.

It makes sense for everyone to ride in one big huddled mass.

Like the Belgish people do.

As I stated previously, Mr. Roll has made contact and while he's not necessarily displeased with the use of his likeness, he was curious why Joe's body was so much nicer than his.
It's with great regret however that Bob cannot make the ride this year, due to previous obligations with The Tour of California.

That is to say he doesn't trust Phil with his stash of wine and horse tranquilizers.

And speaking of horse tranquilizers, The Tour came through the Swobo warehousing world headquarters of Santa Cruz, and not to blow my own horn, but if you were to have caught any of the live feed, you may have seen a certain yellow slickered individual in an all out sprint just ahead of Quick Step's Carlos Barredo moments before Leipenheimer passed him on the spirit crushing Bonny Doon climb..

Well, they say that everybody has 15 seconds of fame, and Im not ashamed to say that that guy had about 18, and I watched it on the computer as well.
It was awesome.

You didn't think I was going to say that was me, did you?
No way man. I had to work.

But homie of Swobo, and brother of another homie of Swobo, Andy Jacques-Maynes got tangled up in a crash, and last I heard was transported to the hospital. The man has taken a serious beating these last few years, and as always, we're keeping a candle lit for his safe return to the peloton.

That Lance guy was out there somewhere as well, but you'll have to watch any of the major news channels to find out where he ended up placing.

Hey, did you hear he got his bike swiped?
Maybe it was taken by a crackhead.
Or a former teammate..

Or both.

However in a truly serendipitous turn of events, moments after typing that, I then came across this article on BSNYC, which makes me reassess my initial stance a bit..

So back to Lance for a second.. He lives in Austin, you know...

"Austin- If Texas were a sundae, then Austin is the cherry."
(Texas board of tourism- I'm still waiting....)

Anyway, James also lives there, and recently while out and about on his bicycle, he came across a sight that he chose to let us in on;

"I spotted the elusive critter while out on a ride.

Them eyes are of the fire spewing variety.

-James"

Definitely not the sort of beast you would want to get too cuddly with.

Now then, on Tuesday we were slammed with a container chock-full of the Dixon bikes, Del Norte bikes, and Sanchez bikes, as well as a whole smattering of various hard parts.

Spanky bits.. Every last one of them.

The box once was full, but now it's not.

And you know, as far as the bikes go, as instructed by the Swobo powers that be, they are for folks to configure and dress up, down or sideways, anyway they like.

Andy from Fyxomatosis just sent us a shot of Dan's Sanchez, to which he did just that.
Chopped, dropped, slammed, jammed, smothered and covered, all the way to Killerville.

That my friends is the Danchez..

Hells yeah.

This next event that The Salt City Sprints has got cooking is still a piece away, but the flyer is too good not to post now;

They have brought the art of the event flyer to new heights.

And now in closing, I'll include a correspondence from Casey;

"Yo Stevil,

Long time reader, first time writer to HTATBL. My name is Casey and I live in Carrboro, North Cackalack...not Snake Hawk Casey, but keepin the name real nonetheless. Anyway, I have been meaning to write for a while but me and the wifey moved and I got lazy and blah, blah, blah.

Getting to the point, I went to NYC in late 2008 to visit a friend. Thought you would enjoy his decor...

We cruised around the city and took in the sites and sounds. Saw some cool rides...

Took in some liquid refreshment with friends...

and then found ourselves in a random art gallery that was highly entertaining...

Also got in some quality time with Bike Snob NYC...

Anyway, wanted to share the good times with you and any HTATBL faithful. Appreciate all that you do to make the 40 hours tick by a little faster.

Good lookin out,
Casey"

Bless your dark heart, Casey. I would have included the standard black bar of anonymity® across your eyes, but that's well below me now as my abilities with Photoshop and I have recently obtained new heights;

My skills are outgrowing my position here at Swobo in leaps and bounds.

It's good to see that you got to spend some time with The Snob as well, and that he's since moved into nicer digs than when I was there..

The author of the article I printed Monday, Harmon Leon, finally got back with me and besides thankfully giving me his blessing to use the article, he asked me to blow up his new book called The American Dream.

I've not yet read it, but you can bet that it's a keeper.

As we part ways on this Wednesday, we have to offer this clip that Tina B sent, proving once again that folks haven't gotten any smarter since the the Ohio incident.

"..after a device was found that was believed to be a pipe bomb", indeed.

Have a happy hump day folks.

That's what it's there for.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) |

Years ago while employed by a Bay Area art handling company, and working a job in some museum or another, I excused myself to the restroom where I found a free newsprint weekly that I'd never heard of before called 'The Wave'. Initially this rag was only available in the South Bay, but eventually became increasingly easy to find around The Bay Area. Every issue that came out contained articles that were funnier than the preceding ones. -Wendy's hamburger employee instructional video reviews, mock try outs for cheerleader squads, in which the individual in question actually goes well out of her way to do everything not to get picked, and so on.

The topics were as varied as they were entertaining, but a single article they printed that really struck a nerve with me was one by a staff writer named Harmon Leon. As years passed, this piece continued to resonate with me, every attempt to try and explain it's genius more futile than the last.

On Friday evening I had come home to find that my life-partner (slash) girlfriend (slash) housemate had pulled everything out of my man cave in an attempt to force me to deal with the mountain of crap that I've amassed, and in going through the piles of said crap, I came across Harmon's article that meant so very much to me. It's with a huge amount of pleasure, and a little fear of being sued that I bring this work of staggering brilliance back out into the sunlight for everyone to enjoy;

Get Fired in 3 Hours or Less

Most publications tell you how to get a job. Only we tell you how to lose one.

Jobs are important! They give you a sense of self-worth. After all, you are what you do, even if you have a college education and now change urinal mints in a porno truckstop restroom. That said, I've decided to join the workforce. But unlike most of you, I hope to get fired—faster than you can say ''401k.'' See, keeping a job is really easy: just nod, smile, laugh at the boss' jokes, flip the burgers when they're ready and resist all urges to pee in the coffeemaker. But the art of getting fired has been buried beneath the shrapnel of the dotcom bomb. And on the coming pages, I'm going to show you how to bring it back. It's gratifying to hear, ''You're fired.'' It's closure. It's like ending a bad relationship and knowing a booty call is completely out of the question — a clean break.

My goal was to find a job and get fired within three hours. But to make my challenge all the more difficult, the editors of this publication put forth the following ground rules:

1)I cannot put a single true bit of information on my job application.

2) I must be indignant during the interview process.

3) I must show up late for my first day of work.

4) I must talk in a fake foreign accent.

5) I must refuse to do things.

6) I must use the word ''motherf*cker'' as an adjective.

7) I must make up a nickname for the boss.

I start out checking the want ads, looking for jobs whose only requirement is Must Speak English. I begin to worry. Then I called Jack in the Box.

The Interview

I interviewed twice in the same week with the same manager at Jack in the Box, using two separate disguises. Though very bright, this manager did not realize he was actually interviewing the same person.

Disguise #1: Willie
Willie Ames is an endearingly good-natured Australian with thick glasses who wears a ''Tight Butts Drive Me Nuts!'' T-shirt and has an unfortunate egg noodle stuck to his face. He hails from the fictitious outback town of Derby, located near the larger town of Biggleston. On a San Francisco spring day, he is dressed for a blizzard.

Disguise #2: Hans
Hans Liederburg is from Bruegerdorf, Germany. Hans doesn't speak much English but is well versed in fast-food preparation, having worked a 12-year stint at ''Ein Burger Haus.'' Hans wears a business suit to the interview and carries a briefcase.
Below is an actual exchange from the interview:

Manager: It says here your last job was at the Ein Burger Haus?
Me: Ya! This information is correct!
Manager: Tell me about your duties at Ein Burger Haus.
Me: I had many, many, many ways to make burgers.
Manager: Do you have experience with cash registers?
Me: Ya, I like to work with machines!

The odds makers took a beating when the German beat the Australian. Ultimately, it was Hans' impressive credentials that landed him the job. As Hans, I was hired to work the 10 pm to 6 am graveyard shift at San Francisco's Lombard Street Jack in the Box. Let's work!

*Editor's note- As an added visual I attempted to get a screen shot from Google Maps of the location in question, and it seems to be gone. I even looked at Jack In The Box's website, indicating that the location in question is in fact no longer in existence, (so instead I made one).

Anyhow- can the blame be laid on Mr. Leon? Read on and decide for yourselves.*

10:00 pm — My assigned shift begins.

10:25 pm — I arrive for work.

10:26 pm —I am reprimanded, but lay on a thick, confused German accent.

10:35 pm — I turn in my clothes for a Jack in the Box uniform, which is made from a medley of itchy artificial materials.

10:37 pm — Wow, lucky me! My uniform is too small! Nothing could highlight this experience like some ill-fitting work clothes. My nametag says ''Hank.''

10:47 pm — I sit down so the manager can show me a training video on ''How to Avoid Slippage,'' ''Identifying Hazards'' and ''Grooming and Hygiene,'' but the VCR is broken. We move on.

11:02 pm — I meet the graveyard shift manager, Don. He has bad breath. I ask Don what day we get paid.

11:03 pm — Don's new nickname becomes ''Sport.''

11:05 pm — It's bizarre how no one introduces themselves. I guess I just have to pay my dues. Veronica, a teenage girl with a neck hickey, is ordered to take me under her wing and show me the ropes. She is my friend. She is my comrade. We are a team! We make jokes about french fries. I ask Veronica stupid questions. She answers all of them.

Veronica: This is the button you push for Coke.
Me: So do you push it if you want Sprite?
Veronica: No.
Me: Why not?
Veronica: Because you push the Sprite button for Sprite.

11:40 pm — I ask Veronica if she thinks my work pants make me look fat. She flatters me: ''No.'' For a brief instant, I get into the working groove. I have job pride! I shall be the best! I give a respectful nod to Veronica.

11:42 pm — The working groove ends.

11:53 pm — Though I began my shift with a German accent and poor comprehension of English, I slowly segue back into my regular voice. It goes completely unnoticed. This fake German accent thing must happen fairly often at Jack in the Box.

11:55 pm — I ask Sport if I can go on break. He says no. I roll my eyes and sigh longly, loudly.

11:57 pm — Bathroom break. For way too long. No one minds, not even Sport. I decide to put serious effort into getting fired. I also decide to avoid the fry area at all costs to prevent any zany fryer mishaps. Instead, I leave the shake machine running, but someone just turns it off. Maybe it was Veronica (my comrade!). It is nearly impossible to make these people angry.

12:30 am — The zipper on my pants is open. Work continues.

12:36 am — When I go into the break room, change into my regular clothes and go back to work, I am confronted. I say my work uniform is ''too itchy.''

12:38 am — I am informed of the appropriate work uniform. I change in the break room and wander around the restaurant pretending to be senile. Will these people never get mad?

12:54 am — Veronica tells me to clean around the fryer. I nod my head and start refilling the napkin dispensers.

12:58 am — Sport tells me to take over the counter. When two customers walk up to the register at the same time, I freak out. ''We're swamped!'' I cry.

1:07 am — I change out of the uniform again, recycling the itchy excuse. No dice. Once more, I'm told about the appropriate uniform.

1:12 am — Back to the German accent, I get into a verbal argument with a drunk customer. I challenge him to a fight. He calls me a loser. At least I can finally use the word ''motherf*cker'' as an adjective.

1:14 am — Sport explains that neither fighting nor creative name-calling is Jack in the Box policy. Goddammit, what do you have to do to get fired around here? I hope I don't have to kill anyone; I'm not prepared for that.

1:22 am — This is futile. It's impossible to get fired! I get anxious. The walls close in. I look to Veronica for hope, but she's on break! My thoughts become desperate. As a last resort I feign illness. I chew up some french fries, take a swig of vanilla shake and spit it all over the restaurant floor. ''Ich bin sick!'' I yell behind the counter. I head home on sick leave, unfired.

Getting fired wasn't as easy as I expected. In fact, I still had my job the next morning and ultimately had to stop coming to work before Jack in the Box finally terminated our relationship. Alas, I never got to hear those three beautiful words, ''You. Are. Fired!'' On the bright side, there are a handful of fast food chains waiting for my application. Stay tuned.

©2001 - 2009 The Wave Media.

It should be noted that I did attempt to make contact with Mr. Leon, but came up empty. I sincerely hope that the credits attached to the use of this suffice, and are not an affront to his skills with a prank and a pen.

My display of his article here is simply my way of thanking him for his efforts.

Only in the last few years have I begun to utilize the written word as a medium, and believe it or not, but it's people like Harmon who've helped to inspire me and for that I offer my most humble gratitude.

Lastly, many thanks to Tony Pereira for the use of this week's header shot of Zoobomb madness taken from his Flickr set.

Now get on with your bad selves on this Monday, and best of luck in getting fired.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) |

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 12:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (5) |

No matter how bad your love life is, there is always somebody who has got it worse.
Yeah, happy Valentines Day.

Posted by Stevil on walkabout at 02:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

DP, loser of the Heather Locklear/Heather Thomas bet, but all around winner of life sent me an email a long time ago, that I just haven't had a place for.

Well I do now, so get ready;

"The Wrestler is the shit.

I went to the flick with this Jewish girl, who was all, "This story is so played out"

And I said, "There's what, fundamentally only five human stories available for re-interpretation, so..."

And yes, Accept is in the soundtrack.

Metal,

DP"

Seriously, this is what my life has become. I sift through, and then cut and paste emails like this for literally about 20 hours a week, but I'll be damned if Lee Major's stunning good looks don't make up for everything.

Speaking of emails with attachments, cutting and pasting, and generally having the most mind numbingly, yet simultaneously, impossibly captivating job on the planet, I got an email from Private- soon to be Major Waggle;

"Thought you would enjoy this. I know finding simple joys in the most mundane things is a prerequisite for HTATBL but when you're pulling 18 hour days of studying to safely operate a nuclear reactor with the emphasis on safely, its a necessity. I went to get some burritos tonight and it was a toss up between bacon and sausage...... pshhh clear winner.

The lady actually started talking about how awesome bacon is and how her husband hates how she frys it up at all hours of the night and then everyone started chiming in about the pure awesomeness of bacon. Out of no where there were 4 people talking about the simple joys of bacon and I was just in awe watching saying nothing. I started looking behind the shelves to see if you were around but no sign. anywho this is a picture of how i start my days. notice how the ingredients don't go in order of importance.

john"

We all live down here together, remember.

A long lost memory just came to me and as long as were talking about breakfast burritos, and washed up actors getting a second chance, I may as well broach the topic of this recollection as well.

Moments ago I recalled being about four years old and walking though a mall in Denver (Cinderella City), and picking up random pieces of garbage.. gum wrappers, bottle caps and so fourth, and putting them in my pockets because I felt terribly sad that these items had been cast away. I felt that they must be lonely so I needed to give them a home together. And furthermore, I remember that I tended to personify alot of inanimate objets. I would line my trucks and cars up, and raise the bucket on my toy backhoe, so his head lights were unobstructed as we watched The Electric Company together.

..Not a very radtarded child.. Just plain old retarded.

And on that note, it looks like today is the day that the gay Nazi space robots finally attack;

And it's going to be FABULOUS.

I'd like to announce that I invented another word..

No that's not true. As far as I know, Skinny Melissa did, but she fell off of the face of the earth so I'm going to take credit for it.

Bananus.
Skinny Mel's definition predates the first U.D. definition by about eight years, so on her behalf, I'm gonna claim this one.

Yeah..
I like today...

Today is cool...

You wanna see a sweet photobomb Case sent us?
Of course you do.

Now is the time that I shake the proverbial cookie crumbs out of my hypothetical sheets and dump out all of the crap lingering in my inbox.

So to speak.

First let us wish our friends Mr. and Mrs. Soulcraft a high five and heartfelt congratulations on a new baby girl who's already worshiping Satan, in her own cute and cuddly way;

And here is another photo that is sure to warm even the coldest of hearts that 685 sent to us of a young GG Allen;

Jimmy Fix also gave us a shout to let us know about an upcoming goldsprint freakout in the fine burgh of Ann Arbor, Michigan;

More information about this, if you care to investigate, can and should be found on his blog.

While the fix is fresh on my swiss-cheese mind, just in time for The Tour of California, our fine friends at Mash SF are breaking out their fancy-pants super hero costumes;

Further more, though the only thing the following flyer has to do with the Mash SF stretchy clothes is that I found it on their site, I thought it should go up as well;

And now here is a little something for the ladies. My brother from another mother, but most definately the same father, Snake Hawk sent in further proof that Dad still likes him more then he likes me;

In closing, I have one more correspondence I'd like to include in today's post from one of the few and proud Friday Heros;

"hey stevil,
so i was privileged enough to become a friday hero in the glorious summer of 07. i still wear my swobo shirt and feel special.

well, my life has taken me to new acclaims, which mainly focus on me trying to get michael ball to make a new line of jeans called "keirin cut"-- which big quads and small waists. i send him harassing emails on a fairly regular basis and his PR guy likes to respond all nice like; however, i still don't have my jeans and my quads are only getting bigger.

so with ToC coming through, i was hoping to get some wide publicity and put a little social pressure on the ballster by having KEIRIN CUT chalked all over the course and have some Versus coverage and get phil liggett to make some funny comment about it. however, my blog is pretty much just read by people in the bay area--- i know you have lots of people reading, specifically from all parts of california.... so i am trying to find people from all over the tour route who will chalk the hell out of it for me.

so whatever you can do to help my plea would be much appreciated....if you can link on your blog... or if you can chalk up the route yourself where you are watching... i would be eternally thankful.

here is my most recent post about it:

xoxooxo,

bethie"

I aim to please, Bethie, and will dig around to see if I can find my chalk box that I used to use alot when I lived in Oakland, mostly to draw insulting charactures of Man Sour along his road loops.

So, at this point, I've gotta ask.... Are you all like me?
Cause if you are, you can't take anymore of this.

As frequently happens around this time every week, I'm gonna go ahead and pull the rip cord and get the heck on out of here.

Each of you have your own destiny in your hands.

Be careful with it this weekend and don't forget to wash up after getting profehessianally radtarded with your bananus.

Kaboom-

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

It's time for you slackers to get profehessianally radtarded-

Everybody's favorite mountain bike advocacy group, IMBA has made a call to arms.

Please, take a couple minutes out of your day, and read what's cooking in this following release concerning trail access in National Parks and then send in an email to The Man regarding this very important topic;

Seriously, like two minutes. That's less time then you spend reading my drivel..
Go on...
Do it for me...

Thanks.

"IMBA Needs Your Help - TAKE ACTION to Increase Opportunities for Mountain Bicycling in National Parks

Visit IMBA(dot)com and file your comments today! (Deadline Feb. 18)

Watch IMBA's YouTube Video here .

Fellow Riders -
As a bike industry leader, and a friend, I am writing to personally ask you to help IMBA win the biggest policy battle we have taken on in our 21-year history -- to increase opportunities for mountain biking in National Parks.

National parks represent the most treasured, iconic places in America and IMBA stands ready to help build and open trails in these epic, breathtaking lands. From a policy perspective, our national parks set the bar and it is critical that they embrace mountain biking as their policies shape those of state, county, and city parks.

We only have until Feb. 18 (a week from Wednesday) to submit comments, and five national organizations have waged an all out battle to defeat this proposed rule. I know many of you have already written, but we need your co-workers, your customers, and your riding buddies to weigh in as well. This is big.
What you can do:

1) Ask Co-Workers/Riding Buddies -- Ask all the employees of your organization to take 60 seconds to provide comments TAKE ACTION!

2) Post IMBA’s YouTube NPS video.

3) Tell Your Customers -- Spread the word on your website, eNews blasts, among your retailers, etc.

Sincerely,
Jenn Dice

PS: Linked right here is IMBA’s latest Action Alert you can use to communicate to your folks on this issue, or ask us to write something for you -- we want to make it easy so all you have to do is spread the word and help leave a legacy for mountain biking."

P.P.S from Stevil- Jenn Dice is my secret girlfriend.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

Dr. Gill, ladies and gentlemen, shot by The Skipper.

Putting the 'hessian' in Profehessianal since 1999.

And speaking of profehessianals, (that's right- I made up another one), word came down on Monday that Bob Roll has received notification about his likeness being used on the Joe wrote a book about Bob's nice hair ride, to which he responded, "how come Joe has such a nice body and I'm all pasty and soft looking?"
It was with great regret that he notified us that due to his presence being required at the Tour of California, he will be unable to attend, which sucks, but mostly for him.

Have fun with the circus Bob.

Keeping on topic of pros who are 'hos, Loren from Down Unda' sent an email to us regarding just that;

"We have had some heinous hot weather and terrible fires down here in Victoria Australia but this is how an Australian stays cool. The site belongs to Tristan Bennet one of our local single-speed nutters. Hope this puts a smile on your face."

Hard Man Riding(dot) com

-Loren"

Hard man riding, huh? That conjured up an entirely different image in my mind.

Then again, that's my mind for you. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

The more I reflect on the topic, the more I come to realize that I'm literally surrounded by profehessianals. Case in point? The oft mentioned Rick Hunter, and the previously mentioned Skipper.

You see, The Skipper not only manages the Swobo warehouse, and at this point, nearly all aspects of our virtual business, but in exchange for a custom bike from Rick, in what little free time he has, he cut his teeth on the world of website design and built Rick's site.

Last week while riding bikes with the tall man, he said he hadn't finished The Skipper's bike, because as he put it, 'the squeaky wheel gets the grease'. Upon hearing this, The Skipper drafted this email, and included the following shot on the Hunter home page;

Yo Rick,
Sweet party yesterday, thanks again. I'm getting kinda jonesy for my bike, and was trying to imagine how I might prod you a bit. I went ahead and updated the turnaround time on the site and added a new bonus photo to the home page. I'm hoping you don't like it very much. I'd be happy to change it back as soon as I get my sweet ride.

Let that be a lesson to you. Never be rude to those who handle your food, and never slight those in charge of your website.

It will only lead to badness.

And in regards to Sunday's County Line Jamboree, I got an email from Andrew;

"stevil -

Just got finished sending this to hunter headquarters. just a few tasty treats to consider stashing in a jersey pocket before hitting the beach next year for the 11th annual. maybe the swobo braintrust can whip up a jersey with a grease-proof pocket?

-andrew."

As I replied to Andrew, we will look into financing an item such as the one he described, and possibly for Rick, a helmet with a jock strap-chin strap.

We work hard, so Rick's neck muscles don't have to.

As far as future Swobo designs go, the sky really is the limit.

Wrapping this post up, I can't to neglect the inclusion of a whole new slew of event flyers that have made ther way to my inbox, which if you are lucky enough to find yourselves residing anywhere between Santa Cruz to Seattle, (or Minneapolis) you maybe ought to find yourselves attending as well;

The final three of which can be investigated here, and here.

Finally from CFO, comes parting words of a future profehessianal;

"Everything has its place
Every place has its thing
So get in your place and do your thing.

-Florian Oates
CFO's Nephew
5 years old, 5 minutes ago"

With that, I would like to wish very happy birthdays to two of our very favorite profehessianals.

The first being the sassy Miss Aden;

and the second being the incomparable Mr. Burt Reynolds;

You guys are badasses.

Alright my friends, the time to depart is upon me. I'm still hobbled from Sunday's submersion into a pile of tree branches, so I doubt there will be much rad getting in my immediate future, but as long as each of you are able bodied, why not get out there and show the bummer life who is boss?

Take no prisoners and fake no pilsners. The time is NOW.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 10:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) |

Of course there is no need to reintroduce the increasingly popular Red Fang, who's video for their song 'Prehistoric Dog' premiered here on The Bummer Life just hours after it's release back in October;

Well I thought you might like to know that the fellas are on tour, and have been diligently maintaining their blog, which not only is generally an entertaining read, but after their date in Boise, in the crowd shot I saw none other than Schoolie standing (almost) front and center, with man-can in hand;

Always professional, always alert.

Oh, but holy mother of god, what it wrong with the girl's eye, on the right hand side of the shot with the big flower on her shirt?
She's taking the 'stink eye' to a whole new level.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 06:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

Consider yourself warned. Today's post has turned out to be a bit of a bit of an animal lovers nightmare.
But then again, like the bumper sticker says, if God didn't want us to eat animals, then why did he make them out of meat?

Obviously I'm not a vegetarian, though I do tend to lean that direction from time to time (with the exception of breakfast and the occasional burger), this next item has been sent to me so many times I can no longer ignore it.
The most recent offering comes from David;

"Stevil,

A carnivorous co-worker forwarded this onto me yesterday, and of course I immediately thought of you. Even as a staunch vegetarian I'm still in awe:

Reported in the New York Times no less! I have to say, if I wasn't of the fruits & veggie persuasion I might have strapped on a helmet, made an appointment for the ER, and gave that artery apocalypse a go.

I think Texas just found it's new form of corporal punishment instead of the bricks they're using now.

Take care man, hope things are well.

David"

As I said, I'm not afraid of an occasional animal protein, but that?
That thing is obscenely, and repulsively, alluring.

Animals aren't the the only ones safe from human consumption however, as sometimes the shoe is on the other foot and the hunters become the prey.
We recently got a correspondence from Chopper in which he describes just that scenario.
No, that's a lie. What he describes has nothing to do with that;

"Stevel
So I got a heinous lip sore from my snowmobile. I was making out with it on Sunday night before heading to vegas for the Ski Industry Association (SIA--like how they are still not ready to accept snowboarding?) and it bit me. I had no idea she was carrying the HERP but when I went to the doc all
he could do was stitch it shut best he could and recommend getting to know who I was making out with a bit better and wearing a helmet.

So anyway, I was in vegas all week and could not get a single stripper to make out with me. I then found this lovely balm, which immediately gave me relief and the sense that I had given 1% to the planet. In all actuality it was more like 10% that I had given to the wind(shield) but whose counting? This stuff really works. If only they had a fried egg flavored lip gloss to go with it.

-chopper"

Way to make lemonade out of lemons, Chopper. And watch yourself around those trampy snow scooters. They'll wrong you at every turn, and then leave you crying under your blanket with a face full of scabs.

I know this to be true because I speak from experience.

Another group who know all to well the trials and tribulations of facial sores are our friends at Surly. I only mention them because I found a photo that they had taken at the recent Single Swizzle on their Flickr set that I really wanted to use for this week's header shot.

I sent them a nice email requesting the week long use of the photo, giving them full credit of course, and no one ever got back with me. Never one to be ignored, I used it anyway.
And if any of those on the Surly front are reading this, and don't like my mode of operation, then I'll see you in court.

Another individual who eats alot of meat, and specifically cat meat is everybody's favorite motoroil drinking extraterrestrial, Alf. As bacon is a mainstay of my particular sense of humor, the topic of Alf was to original Swobo employee, J.R.
When coming across a particularly mint copy of the very first Alf comic book, I thought it only right for it to end up in J.R.'s hands.

Rest assured, I looked online to see what a mint copy of Alf #1 was worth before sending it away, and as much as I am in dire need of $4.50, I opted to pass it on to him anyway.
Enjoy that in good health, J.R.

While we're continuing on on the topic of carnivorism, and general cavemen mentality, El Corpo sent a shot to me with a request to post it;

So there you go El Corpo. Never say I don't do what I'm told.

As I replied to him, that stupid fish wasn't doing anything but swimming around being totally awesome anyway.

I suppose it's a nasty reality of life that sometimes animals eat other animals, so that being said, it's a little known fact that before Noah left the last two unicorns on the island to get swallowed up by the big evil-cleansing rain storm, that they actually had a taste for brains. It's true- Unicorns eat brains.
That's how they keep their eye sacs replenished.

The only kind of brains they wouldn't eat would probably be Bad Brains;

Bad Brains_teaser

Should one ever actually consume a Bad Brain, one would most certainly get hhiiiiigggghhhhhh.......

Um....What was I saying?

Ah yes... Getting high. And when one smokes the twee, one might like to get comfortable in their favorite shorts and eat some snacks.

Fortunately for those of you who follow up the high getting, with the short putting on-ing, and the snack eating, there is a website just for you.

It's the Hotdogs and Shorts website of course, cause if you show me someone who says they're not totally into shorts and hotdogs, I'll show you a damn liar.

Moving on.. In all honesty I pieced this post together over a couple days. I usually wait till the end of Sunday to throw up whatever last little tidbits I might receive from folks over the course of the weekend, but Friendly Paul came down to do the final recon for the upcoming Bob loves Joe's hair ride, and my tired brain doesn't feel like thinking anymore, so I'll just leave you with a smattering of images;

Just after the above photo was taken, I washed out on a wet log, and as illustrated in the photo below, the grove cut into the mud at the bottom of the shot was made by my front wheel, stopping me cold against the log, and sending me head first into the pile of debris, but not before giving me a world class charlie horse on my left knee from my handle bar..

Totally killer- two OTBs in one week, but it wasn't so bad that it prevented us from carrying on;

Regardless of the fact that I'm currently limping around and feeling more than twice my age, I realize that this is what weekends were made for.
I wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China, which by my estimates would conclude to be a whole lot of tea.

I hope that minus the crashing and whatnot, you all had the same kind of good stuff in store for you the last couple of days as well.

Ordinarily I might leave you with some witty parting words, like 'stay classy San Diego' or something, but the Advil is singing my tune, so I'm off to get pain free.

As always, radtardedly yours,

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 08:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) |

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 07:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) |

Another week for the record books.
Working in the Swobo warehouse was nothing short of a fantastic voyage of whimsical wonders, but as it happens every week, we must bid a fond farewell to the salt mines, and reflect on just how awesome Monday through Friday can be.
And just because I couldn't find an appropriate image to accompany this intro, I'm going to Google the first thing that comes to my mind when I stop typing.

"Gary Busey"

And so it is done.

There is a country down to the South and the East of us called Texas.

Ahhhh Texas..

"God's spur..."

"Where the heavens meet the earth...."

"The blueprint for the West.."

"The state that Austin's in..."

(By the way, as far as I know, I just made all of those slogans up. If anyone who reads this blog happens to work for the Texas tourism board, caaaallll mmeeeee...)

Anyhoo, James lives there, and he just sent me an email about showing up to a gun fight with a pencil;

"Stevil,

I present to you a story of a man (me). A man who went on a ride with Independant Fabrications dudes and whose assumptions about the ride were not accurate.

Sometimes you don't belong

p.s. I've also relayed my story to Jonny @ drunkcyclist as my love for you two is not prioritized.

-James"

First off, I would be shocked and dismayed if any of the good people from I.F. even considered a stink eye for someone who showed up to a bike ride, regardless of what kind of bike they were on.
Of the individuals whom I've met from that organization over the years, there is nary a single one that wasn't a true blue, salt-of-the-earth type.
Good people. Every one of them.

Except that Steve Elmes guy. He's as shady as they come, but I guess thats why they shipped him off to Boulder.

Where they take cyclocross seriously.

And secondly, I'm honored to be lumped in with Jonny. He's also extraordinarily shady, but out weighs me by about 250 pounds and will pop my head like a zit, so I have to be cordial to him.

Another individual who resides on the internet, and would just as soon plunge a shiv into my back as look at me is the The Bike Snob, pictured here, who as you all probably know has recently concluded a photo contribution contest of epic proportions, which I eagerly included a prize pack for.
The Snob sent me the victor's shipping address, and aside from the coozy (or, for the heavy metalers in the audience, a cüzy) and my lucky elk tooth, I broke out one of my very most prized possessions.

A near mint copy of the highly acclaimed 'Welcome Back Kotter' comic book;

While we're on the topic of people winning things, I of course cant hesitate to mention Dan's victory in winning the motivational poster contest here on HTATBL. For his efforts, and though it's not nearly as awesome as the comic book, I picked the very best of the best off of my desk and sent it out to him, post-haste;

Two note worthy items contained therein are the little red van and the black balled up thing in the opposite corner. The red van has a little window in the back that if you look into it, you'll see three very clean cut men, one straddling a dirt bike, while the other two appear to be gazing into his shoulder and groin. The black thing, as near as I can recall is a pair of used panties I bought off of the internet for $250.00 and only wore like, a couple times.

It's good to be a winner.

As Hump day settled its way into my world this week, I got an email from renound frame builder, and ping pong player extraordinaire, Rick Hunter to join him in a mid-day jaunt through the woods, while atop our mountain bicycles.
As I had completed my floor sweeping and garbage taking outing duties for the first part of the day, I enthusiastically agreed, and met him (where else?) at the donut shop.
We rolled away, with high hopes and light hearts and were soon zipping along under a thick canopy of folliage, only stopping occasionally to procure what the Canadians call 'footie';

I was so taken by the french twist in Rick's mouth when shooting this 'footie' that I recoiled slightly and made a blury photo.

Totally unprofessional.

Within minutes, Rick had crashed twice, but undeterred, we traveled on in our quest for rad getting;

We had nothing before us but opportunity, when I heard Rick call out from the woods that he'd torn the sidewall from the bead on his front tire;

Rolling slowly away from the scene, we made silent pacts to emerge from the woods intact, when suddenly, on a small uphill grunt, my chain broke, sending my man parts one million miles an hour into my stem, and then over the handlebars, my right hand planting solidly on top of a short retaining wall post, catapulting my body in a perfect front hand spring over the wall and into the abyss.
Being the boyscout that Rick is, he pulled a master link from his pocket, and again, we rolled steadily, albeit bruised and battered back into civilization.

Finally, back at the safety of the bike shop, we began taking a tally of our mishaps. Roughly one hour on the bikes, three crashes, one destroyed tire, and a broken chain.

I'm glad we got that out of our systems.

As a last punch to my psyche, Rick, the consummate fabricator, the man who designs bikes and bike parts sought after the world over, the never ending source of fantastic new ideas that have the capacity to change bicycle technology as we know it, lifted his shirt to reveal his inspired method with which he keeps up his pants;

There isn't an alarm clock made that will wake you up early enough to get one over on this guy.

Finally, while I'm blowing all remaining stock of sunshine up his proverbial skirt, I should finally mention the annual ho-down that he's throwing this coming weekend;

It promises to totally suck and totally rule, all at the same time.

I guess the only way to wrap this post up is to include a bunch of unicorns that I have had sitting patiently (they're a very patient animal, you know) within the chaos that is my inbox;

First up, Daniel writes;

"The new Swobo team mascot?"

Yes, Daniel, if I have anything to say about it, it will be.
Unless of course it's a white power unicorn, and in that case, we'll have to show it the door.

Or, if it's like the one that was sent to us by Charles and surrounded by a boner rainbow- (perhaps a rain boner?)

"Hey Stevil,

DK Bikes sent us this, they had a tattoo design contest. The winning design would then be forever embodied on this guy named Catfish.

As you can see this one was a clear winner, and is now on Catfish's knee. We thought you would enjoy it as much as we do."

What's gonna be not to like about having that on your knee in forty years?

All I know is that in forty years, I hope to find myself in this situation;

... Raging with my pants down, surrounded by loved ones and being entertained by my grandson, Jedediah Machine Gun Blitzkrieg Kinevil.

He's gonna be a star.

So you know, back a little earlier on, I was talking about Austin...

Ahh, Austin..

"The jewel in the crown of Texas...."

"The place where Lance lives..."

"A city with a heart as big as the state in which it exists..."

"Austin- The only thing wrong with it is that it's in Texas..."

(Remember tourism board... calll meee..)

Well, El Gato sent in a bit about a bad guy there getting his just deserts;

"Hey Stevil,

An amigo (General Patton) in Austin mentioned how the local bike crew corralled a real life Bike Rustler.

Apparently the whole investigation got kicked off after the bad guy complained about a local CX course not being Euro-enough ( just another reason to be friendly with the local promoters).

Here's hoping he makes lots of new friends in the Big House.

Score 1 for the good guys!

El Gato"

As far as that story goes, and seeing that we haven't had a Friday Hero in a while, why not offer it up to the good people in the Austin cycling community who blew the whistle on this nefarious character?

Works for me.

Alright then... Would you all pack up your goods and kindly step the hell on to the good times?
The weekend is not waiting and most assuredly wont forget itself...

In this posts conclusion, I was inspired to include a link to the Urban Dictionary definition of 'radtarded' that I sent in to them that said the following;

"Radtarded-

Getting totally awesome and totally not awesome all at the same time, but with totally awesome results.

"I was playing wall ball with Gary Busey this weekend and then we drove a dragster to the bar and drank a ton of beer. I barfed but then I found a suitcase full of money, so the next day we went sky diving.
It was radtarded."

Sadly, somebody beat me to the punch, but what is even worse was their super stupid definition.

Oh, the humanity.

*Update* It looks like I squeezed into infamy after all. It's good to have powerful people in powerful places.

Anyway, I'm off to get radtarded. Might I suggest you do the same?

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 04:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (9) |

As I began writing this piece, Monday wasn't even over yet, and I'd already packed more life into the preceding 24 hours than an Army person does before 8 AM.
Let''s start out with this sweater...

The story behind this sweater, as I immediately explained on our Flickr page as well as Guyswhocuttheirownhair after finding the image, was that about ten years ago I was in Santa Rosa with my parents, bumming around and generally not doing anything, which for those of you who haven't been there before is typically what you do while visiting Santa Rosa, when I glanced in the Goodwill store's front window and was stopped in my tracks by a thing of such beauty, I calmly and very gracefully crapped in my pants.
A clown sweater..
I'd never seen a thing of such repugnant and horrifying elegance. Sadly the store was closed, but as soon as I got home, I immediately called Jay Sycip, whose shop was conveniently located right around the corner. I begged him to go there as soon as they opened the next day and purchase it for me, and in return, I promised to "totally probably pay you back in full". He said he'd do it, but I was disheartened when he called me back later the next day and said that the little old lady who was working the front counter informed him that it was part of their Valentines Day window display, and as such, wouldn't be taken down and made available for sale until the end of the month.
On pins and needles I waited, the days ticking away one by one, until finally at long last the end of the month came. I excitedly called Jay again, and he said he'd go pick it up for me that morning.
Eventually the phone rang. "Hello!?" I said "Yeah, hey.. It's Jay" he started. I didn't like the tone of his voice. The clouds drew in thick around me as I waited for the news. "..I went back in and no one in there seemed to remember any clown sweater..." I couldn't believe it. They didnt remember the sweater? That's like not remembering being picked up hitch hiking by Ted Bundy.
"Alright" I said. "Thanks any way.." The line went dead.

Years passed, this fantastic article of garb never falling far from my mind, then, on this past Monday morning, while randomly scanning Swobo's friends on Myspace looking for alley cat flyers and the such, I caught a glimpse of something familiar. Something incredible. Something clowny and crew knit. My mind could hardly wrap itself around the thought of what I'd just seen. There it was, plain as day. MY sweater on a disgruntled looking young man, who was staring back at me as if to say "you suck, I rule, deal with it."

I immediately sent messages to the person who posted the image as well as the person whose profile it was posted on, pleading for information, of which I came up empty. I immediately thought, "I have the power of the internet. I will use that power and I will find my sweater." I made a post on Guyswhocuttheirownhair, and within five minutes was contacted by someone informing me that this wasn't just any disgruntled looking young man, but it was none other than Star Trek's own Wil Wheaton. As I replied to the individual who contacted me, my knowledge of Star Trek ends with Spock's corpse getting shot into space and landing in Eden, so the help was most certainly appreciated, but now I am engaged in in the unenviable task of haranguing a former child star out of his clothing, and this was all before lunch.

Seriously, you just can't make this stuff up...

Moving on, and with no direction in particular.. Chopper found time in his busy schedule of peddling sunglasses and giving advice to send me my favorite new video on Youtube, which may or may not be safe for work. I suppose it all depends on your perspective.

Secondly, and as much as I want to believe that Razor scooters are one of the lamest things to curse this mortal coil, Matt sent a video in that forced me to reassess my stance;

On second thought, yeah, Razor scooters are still totally stupid, but Matt McKeen is alright in my book.

Now, from Tina B;

"Behold- the man who looks like a thumb."

Yes Tina. Indeed he does. How truly unfortunate for him.

You all wanna see how many years old my cousin Smitty's son Miko is?

He's five, and if you were curious, he gets his looks from my side of the family.

Evan gave us a shout to let us know that the cameras are everywhere;

"Stevil-

There is some sweet mountain biking around Rapid City, so I wasn't surprised to find that the Google Street View crew caught you there, post-ride.

evan, yo!"

I'm just glad that the eye in the sky didn't catch me with my hand in my pants, which is where it usually is.

From my very most favorite blog of total randomness comes this offering;

As I mentioned on Tuesday, from time to time I'll take a minute to go back through old posts and re-read them in sort of a look-through-photo-albums-and-reflect-on-stuff kind of way, as well as to find typos, and missed punctuation (which I've tried hard to stay on top of, by the way) and as I was buttoning up this post, I was reading the comments left by folks after I'd written about feeling like I had run out of gas, and it occurred to me that I had never properly thanked you all for the extraordinarily kind words. It might seem sterile to read the thanks in boring old black and white, but what was conveyed genuinely meant alot to me, and I am humbled by your support, so again, thank you all very much for that.

If I were a sailboat (a very handsome and hirsute sailboat mind you), I don't think that it's a stretch to say your words were the gust that pushed me away from the rocks.

Alright- again to move on.... The bummer life screams around us at all times. Some days it is as easy to avoid as a slow pitch from a granny, but other days it runs you down with the force of a freight train, leaving you in a quivering pile, waiting for the big sleep to just make it all go away. Matt sent in this story which illustrates that very feeling.

P.T. Barnum came correct

The next bit of news that EB sent on is difficult for me to broach in this forum, and quite frankly impossible for me to to to even comprehend, but a fellow by the name of Josh out in Omaha, who according to our source is a stand up fellow, and a lover of all things two wheeled has experienced a horror and a heartbreak detailed in an article that out of respect for the families involved I'm not detailing here, but suffice it to say that an epic tragedy has befallen them and in every way possible, all of us here at Swobo send the Beasley and Moore families our deepest, and most heart felt condolences.
I bring this up simply to let Josh know that we are in his corner and if he should need anything at all, to please let us know.

I know that this is vague and weird, but please, just keep him in your thoughts and send whatever positive vibes you might have to spare his way.

You know, I like to keep it light here, but every now and again, as I said before, the bummer life can mow you down like so many bowling pins. I cant very well transition from a situation so sad to say, something like a hamburger dress without seeming like a total douchebag, so it's now that I'll pull the plug on this post and remind you all that life is indeed a fleeting thing. Hold on to the thing that you love, be it a person, an animal, a bike, your Dungeons and Dragons game, or even your clown sweater, when you can, and while you can because we're never guaranteed a tomorrow.

Your assignment today is to savor your life and the existence of the ones around you whom you love. Do it for fifteen minutes or fifteen hours. I don't really care how long you do it for, just as long as you do it at all.

It's Wednesday today, and from where I stand, that in itself is a pretty good place to start.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 05:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

From time to time, I go back through the annals of The Bummer life, and I find gems that I have long since forgotten, like this ad I did for Hunter Cycles, as the kids say, 'back in the day'. As I had mentioned when I'd originally posted this,

"Right.. I havent seen everyone of your mouths. There might be one out there that really is prettier than a Hunter. But I kinda doubt it."

And then there was another interesting thing that I'd found when perusing this post. It was then that I had been notified that Pentabike draftsman 685 had gotten a copyright to his design, for which I was fervently lambasted by a grumpy-pants named Logan Foster in which he writes;

"It's a good thing that after posting a free stencil kit on his website and encouraging people to use it for free that 685 is cracking down. That will stop all those evil corporate people from making millions off his hard work. Do you have any examples of that? Haven't seen any yet.

Maybe he read Commodify Your Dissent by Thomas Frank and realized that Swobo is the best in the business when it comes to co-opting the urban cycling lifestyle and then selling it back to 'hardcore urban riders' in the form of overpriced soft goods and bikes that are lovingly crafted in sweatshops overseas. Buying a lifestyle off the rack: that's as hardcore as it comes. What would all the kids who bought fixed gears to ride drunk for three months before they quit riding forever do without companies like Swobo to make them look cool for those three months when they try on the hardcore urban cycling lifestyle like a costume bought off the rack for Halloween?

This will really keep the kids in line. Maybe he can stop the people in Portland using his stencil from spraypainting it all over the city and infuriating the local government (http://tinyurl.com/2f5bq7) and become an Urban Outfitters instamillionaire. That would be super hardcore.

Any word whether he is tyring (sic) to copyright just the pentagram symbol so he can go after Motley Crue and Slayer for using pentagrams, too? He may have some trouble with prior art.

In conclusion, let's take a look at the words of President Theodore Roosevelt from his 'man in the arena' pep talk he gave in Paris in 1910.
"It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles. Or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement. And at worst, If he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

Where would we be without such learned guidance in commodofying the hardcore urban lifestyle? Thank you, Stevel (sic) Kinevil (hey, does Evil Knevil know that you've stolen his last name? He's a pretty litigious guy and we all know that stealing someone else's work is bad--stealing an identity is even worse. Stop biting!).

Logan "keeping it positive for Jah" Foster®"

I'll first mention that I added liberties to Logan's name, and follow that up with a profound thanks to the man in question for, after all of this time, continuing to bring an ear to ear smile to my face.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 08:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (8) |

Two new things that we currently have available in stock on
Swobo(dot)com are the Cog photo annual, and the Swobo flask cage.

First you fill your eye holes, and then you fill your mouth holes.

Now go back here

Posted by Stevil on walkabout at 09:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) |

Like motivational posters, for instance.

The above image was sent in by Snakebite, and during our brief email correspondences, we both acknowledged that neither of us remembered this particular point of the evening.

And Hurl for damn sure doesn't.

As I had previously mentioned, I was so inspired and motivated by the motivational poster tool that I decided to throw a contest.
The individual who sent in the image that burrowed it's way into the deepest recesses of my heart's cockles would be the proud victor and walk away with a pile of crap... er.. coveted possessions off of my desk.

I spent alot of sleepless nights agonizing over this, and at least six breakfasts not thinking about it at all, so without further ado, I present to you a partial list of finalists, and then eventually, maybe the winner.

Yeah.. On further thought, there definitely will be a winner in here somewhere.

Potter sent in a slew of high quality fodder for my perusal, which were among some of my favorites;

and just so CFO might not think he was safe from Potter's wrath,

Do you all feel that sensation in your bodies right now? A subtle tingling that stretches from the top of your third eye down into the souls of your feet?
That, my friends is called inspiration.

Here is one from Hans, which for obvious reasons I would have preferred to omit, but at every corner here on The Bummer Life, I attempt to curb any type of censorship, no matter how offensive the content may be;

Paul sent another one from Minneapolis illustrating that by always keeping a pen behind his ear, Hurl is indeed the picture of never faltering professionalism;

There is a quote attached to the bottom of every email that Sky sends out, that in this case is a fairly appropriate inclusion;

'When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading.'
~ Henny Youngman

Ed sent one in depicting his friend who I'm sure after seeing this might not be any longer;

As I maybe have mentioned here before, I spent all of my jr. high and high school career in special education classes. I always jokingly referred to myself as the king of the retards, due to the fact that of all of my peers, I was sort of the least retarded, and as such, sat at the head of the pack, and acted as a bit of a mediator between the administration and my more handi-capable classmates.
So with all of that being said, this poster speaks to me in ways that I previously thought to be impossible, yet at the same time is incredibly offensive.

Nick sent one in containing a shot which very well could have been taken at the last Kinevil family reunion;

He also has gems on his web log that will occasionally bring me to my knees. The following clip being no exception;

Then there were these two, that due to the general haziness of my existence, I'm unable to even remember where they came from;

I have to say though- as far as the top one is concerned, that looks like pilot error to me.

And even though it's my contest and I'm exempt from the competition, I made one as well;

There were more, but I have limited space and no more energy, so with that being said, I'm proud to bring the victor to the forefront. Dan presented me with one for the ages. I found myself horrified, bemused and inspired all simultaneously with his following entry;

In explaining his entry, Dan writes;

"Hey Stevil,

Here is my submission to motivate the shit out of you and all the readers. It's a buddy of mine at our annual halloween party playing with another couple's kid. He shaved his head with a razor for the Captain Spalding costume. That is some halloween commitment. His girlfriend was pissed.

I hope it motivates you to beat the crap out of any clowns you see that aren't in a circus.

if you ain't gunna use it, I'm gunna post it up on my blug. so let me know.

-dan"

For Dan's efforts, not only will he receive a gift bag of random trash (remember, one man's trash, is another man's treasure) but Sky kicked in one of Swobo's newest offerings- the flask cage, designed in partnership with Joseph Ahearne of Ahearne Cycles.

It should be noted that as of yet, we don't have flasks, and those might come along eventually, but for now we can at least offer you the tool with which to carry your own.

So I offer a heart felt thanks to all who contributed entries, and a big fat high five to Dan who is our newly crowned king of the hill.

I'd like to wrap today's post up with a correspondence from C.D. regarding the upcoming Joe-Parkin-wrote-a-book-and-has-nice-hair-ride;

"Stevil,
A few weeks ago I saw this cat on Highway 26 heading into Portland and damn near pissed my pants. I told Rich and Jay here at work all about it and I think they thought I was just making it up. So over the weekend Rich was on his MySpace page and noticed he'd gotten a friend request from a lady. Turns out she's a stripper but I'm not really into detailing all that this part of the story could be. Anyway, Rich looked through her profile and found this picture of one of her friends.

Please inform all attending punk bitches that there is no need to wear a watch on Feb 22nd as I plan on showin' them what time it is.

Welcome back,
CD"

So there you go, and now you know.
Punk bitches, consider yourselves informed.

On that note, allow me to say that of any of the aforementioned individuals who might be in need a time check, Philipp Walsleben, Tijmen Eising, Marianne Vos and Niels Albert need not be included.

Congratulations.

You all are true champions.

So with that, and assuming that such a thing exists, happy Monday.

Now get to work.

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 03:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) |

Posted by Stevil Kinevil at 02:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) |