For those of you who are fortunate enough not to know this gentleman, his name is Sov, and he's one of the driving forces behind Surly bikes. When I took this picture we were on our way to have dinner and enjoy some of one another's company. After dinner we adjourned to the bar for a night cap where I was promptly assaulted by a largeish fifty year old lady who worked in the medical field, was battling with her landlord over rats in her apartment and the mites they carried with them and finally that "she was definately not the kind of woman you'd find alone, and drunk at a bar on a Monday night" with the exception of the fact that she was.

Sadly I did not get any photos of this exchange, nor did I get photographic proof of her physical assault on my person primarily because my hands were too busy keeping hers off of me. Sov had a ten spot on the bar and I really wanted another beer, but once the crazy lady moved in for a kiss, I had to do a karate arm sweep and put her back on her stool as we ran off into the darkness to find our bicycles.

Truth be told, maybe one more beer is all that it would have taken to make that kiss happen, but I kinda doubt it.

Anyway, besides being accosted by crazy aunt Cynthia Grabbyhands and having wrung out my brain in an interview with Michael Green on Monday evening, I'm coming up a might bit short on....

Oh, what's that? You hadn't heard about my interview?

Well, count yourself as one of the few because this piece is making waves and freeing slaves. The whole sorted saga can be found right here.

My god, I'm a mesmerizing individual. I see why Michael contacted me.
I know me and I even like reading about what I have to say.

Anyhow, what I was mentioning before was that I was feeling like I was coming a little short on inspiration for today because my brain is full of gunk and whiskey.

But let's see what I can squeeze out.

With the help of Roger I may be able to get the ball rolling;

"You may have already seen this.

Roger"

Those poor kids. I remember when I was in ninth grade and for my speech and drama class I chose to read Black Flag's 'Family Man'.

People laughed at me too, but I didn't have to swing my hair for the entire duration of my performance, so I had that going for me..

Alight, here is one from Peter that's pretty pointless, which of course is just like I like 'em;

"is that a Lemur?
Whatever it was, Im making a hat out of it.

Regards,
Peter"

I don't know what it is, but I heellllllla want one, and I never use the word 'hella' so that goes to prove how convicted I am in my desire.

Let's talk about that word for a moment, shall we? For those of you who might not know, 'hella' is Bay Area slang which is to mean alot of something, or an abundance of something- very..

"The building had hella flights of stairs, which I walked all of while wearing roller skates because the elevator was broken, and my laces were in knots. It was hella hard."

Now it should be noted that while no one should use the word much at all, anyone who chooses to use it twice in one sentence had better have a good excuse, like having to walk many flights of stars while wearing roller skates for example.

Anyway, I first heard the word in Berkeley in 1986 but being that I am an amature wordologist, I began poking around to see where the root of this hugely annoying slangjumbo (a combo of 'slang' and 'mumbo-jumbo'. See? wordology) came from. The earliest I've found this word to have been used was in Oakland in the year of 1976.

Probably by a guy in bell bottoms, a bedazzled denim vest and a leather Apple hat whose name was Rudy.

At least I hope that it was.

And while we are on the topic of words, would you like to know who taught me the F word?

Garth McJunkin, inside of the half buried tractor tire on the kindergarten playground at Wilmot elementary school, ironically also in the year 1976.

1976. The year that my English took a turn for the worser.

Ok, so dig this- The Sea Otter bicycle extravaganza took place this past weekend and for the first time in a long time, I was not there. I was happily riding my bicycle along lone and shady roads, and lazing about on the floor and watching the clouds go by. I think I actually completed a span of about 12 hours straight during which I didn't utter a word.
It felt good for my heart and my head, but I was slightly pained knowing that there was a fun thing happening and I was missing it.

Aside from the one fun thing, there was another fun thing that I missed out on as well that was in no way, shape or form associated with the Sea Otter, which of course was The Sleaze Otter.

The above photo of a few hearty souls releasing a ghost from it's box like those from the lost ark was taken by King George, who has many more to look at here.

Well alright! I took a pear shaped amount of inspiration and even made it more so.

In closing, I'm going to shine a spotlight on somebody doing something nice for someone for no reason at all. In the world of bicycle related web logs, we stick together. When I was in new York, for example, The Bike Snob met up with me to make sure I didn't fall off of my bar stool. Now if that wasn't enough to ensure his passage to Heaven, he one upped himself and helped out fallen comrade Erik K. by purchasing him a blacker than black Swobo woolie as a get well gift. Never one to miss an opportunity to take a coat tail ride, I included a note in The Snob's absence for which I sacrificed my very most coveted issue of Bicycling Magazine;

I told The Snob that I was actually in the process of buying a seat like that for my own use but then got distracted when I began punching myself in the face.

Anyway Erik, here is to you and a speedy recovery from your friends on the woolen side of the tracks.

On that note, it's Wednesday everybody. If I hadn't given my social live a Viking funeral a few weeks ago, I'd probably be out with friends on bikes with beer, but instead I'll probably be hiding in the woods watching it from a distance.

Does it feel like someone is staring at you sometimes?
That would be me.