And of course, while on the topic of your best interests, I can't neglect to include this that Complayna sent me;

The Beer Blaster.

Cross races will never be the same.

Of course by this I mean that folks will have more beer on them and less of Brad's saliva.

Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't kind of heart warming seeing Brad feed Loudass like a mama bird feeds her babies.

A million thanks to photo ace Wil Matthews for being in the right place at the right time.

You know, here on The Bummer Life we have kinda got a family-type of unit.

We've got the genius under achiever who sits in his room eating candy and challenges himself by building scale models while blind folded that is George. There is the pervy, and compulsively masturbating little brother that's kept locked away in the attic that is CFO, and the autistic step brother that picks off pieces of wall paper and recreates Renaissance paintings on the floor with the scraps that is Slappy. Recently welcomed back into our home after some time away in the big house we have the drunken uncle who flicks cigarettes at you and then tells you to come sit on his lap and listen to stories about ''The Nam" that is Hurl. Of course there is the well dressed father who drops in between business trips to offer encouragement and uses big words that no one understands that is El Corpo. We have our two other uncles who wear matching suits and designer sunglasses that they never take off, who occasionally drop by between visits to the high dollar strip club and the top secret assassin training camps they run, that are DP and The Captain, and of course there is me. I'm the older brother who wears button down sweaters, spends my days listening to classic R&B on the radio, smells of sweat and defeat and swears alot.
However, most notably absent in this lot is the presence of any sisters. Uma comes in every now and again to make sure the lock on CFO's door is secure and to tell a joke letting us know that we're all going to be ok, but just as soon as she arrives, she's out the door again, off to partake in some wholesome fun at her big city college or at the soda shoppe where the clean kids hang out.

Why is this, I wonder? Aren't there any girls out there who want to be a part of the family?
Obviously we have Sky, who for all intent and purposes is sort of the matriarch of this clan of the damned, but she just sometimes sticks her head in the kitchen door, glances around and then ducks back out again, head shaking, and hands wrung up in knots.

Of course, her brow wasn't always so furrowed. There was a time that she just lounged around, bathing in her badassness and played piano with a prematurely aged girl from around the way;

Just look at the life and sparkle in those eyes. It's no wonder she went on to rule a world predominately run by men.

So.. Uh.. Where was I going with that?

Hell, I don't remember.

Probably another plea to any types of a female persuasion to get on the good foot and even out some of the damned testosterone that sometimes courses through The Bummer Life's veins, and to illustrate in words just what a boy's club we generally have here.

It just aint right, I tells you.

Anyway, would you guys like to see a photo of my spirit animal that James Newman sent to me?

I suspect, like me, my spirit animal has a penchant for fried chicken, Steven Segal movies, the memory of shadow boxing and chewing tobacco.

Not alot unlike this week's coveted HTATBL link dump winner at the Mod-Spot.

My man's been riding the dirt bicycles longer than jebus and has lived to tell the tale.

Now, in totally other news, it's not often that I use The Bummer Life to convey birthday wishes;

But today I'm going to throw caution to the wind and wish a very happy birthday to my beloved father, Mike Kinevil, pictured here with his brand new Swobo Otis;

I love that man very much and I hope he's around for another 72 years. Without his unwavering wisdom, and periodic spiritual beat downs, there is no telling how much farther I would have fallen in this life.

Now then, basically the reason there is nary a single reference to what went down this weekend is that I'm still immersed in it, and probably as you read this, am struggling with what might as well be a thousand mile commute back to home base after a wicked ugly couple of days in the Bay Area. I got all smarty pants on you and actually wrote this post while I still had two feet firmly planted on the ground, and my head had yet to even begin it's unstoppable spin.
You can bet I'll give you the full skinny (or is it the full monty?) on Wednesday. I hope you all had a rip roaring Saturday/ Sunday combo.
From the ass end of last week, I can already presume that I will have.

Like a dirty shirt I'm off and on the floor.

Hiyah!