Friday. Or “Insert interesting title here.”
Before I engage with today’s post, please allow me to speak on a subject that’s near and dear to my heart.
It’s not about treating your brothers and sisters with respect, nor is it about tending to your flock. It’s not even about how awesome my gigantic red robe is. No my friends, it’s about bags. As you all know I am an admitted bag whore. The sound of zippers and velcro is music to my ears, and the more secret stash spots a bag has, the wider my grin spreads.
This past Friday I finally made my way back to visit my friends at Mission Workshop to partake in an informal opening party at their new office/drinking and retail space tucked smack dab in the middle of San Francisco California’s Mission District. It’s been some time since I had been through there, and was pleased as punch to see that their proverbial rock has been gathering no moss in my time away. Upon my arrival, I stashed my bike, six pack, and dangerously overstuffed backpack into a corner and commenced with some high fiving and camaraderie.
Eventually, as I gathered my stuff to get on with the night, Captain Bart pulled me into the back room and presented me with my very own Vandal. Now as I was the one responsible for bulk of the copy on their website, as well as every other varying bit of incoherent babbling, I was well aware of all of the bells and whistles that the bag possessed, but it wasn’t until I packed my old bag into the new bag and threw it on my back that I finally realized just how genius this design is.
My initial analogy (albiet completely grotesque) was that it was akin to putting a woman in her 18th trimester inside of the body of another woman. All of my possessions, plus a few I’d picked up over the course of the evening slid inside the Vandal with ease and in a blink I was on my bike with all that I own easily in tow.
I should also apologize for not constructing a more appealing visual of the bag but I was working on three hours of sleep, no thanks in part to my old friend Toby;
Anyhow, as I have blurted elsewhere on the interwebs, Mission Workshop has truly outdone themselves with this new line, and should you find yourself in the market for a gigantic, and totally awesome bag, or even for that matter, a bag like any one of its siblings, I recommend you give their new line a look-see.
Now, on to other matters.. You might remember back to last week when I mentioned constructing a contest to come up with a contest that would result in the winner being presented with a signed copy of J.P.H.N.H’s new book, ‘Come And Gone’, or if you wish, its alternative title ‘I Condition My Hair With Beer’.
I was treated to such a wide array of submissions, I momentarily thought that perhaps I should hold a contest to pick the winning contest for the contest, but I kept getting confused and losing my place in the day to day.
I’ve narrowed it down to a few finalists, which I will now put into a hat and pick at random.
These finalists, in no particular order are as follows;
1. “Photo of best hand-mark on a spanked ass.” -Morgan
2. “First to smack Riccardo Ricco in his stupid fucking face wins.” -Chris Clary, Esquire
3. “Combine the “power hour” and riding rollers. It’s like the hour TT, but you need to take a shot of beer every 60secs. Fall and you are D’qued Farthest distance wins.” -Angel I. Franco”
4. “*Drunken Tattoo Contest* The first person to get an AHTBM tattoo.” -Jason
5. “Before and after pictures of trail maintenance. AHTBM readers will be required to find a neglected piece of trail, fix it, and document their efforts with a camera. Bonus points if AHTBM merchandise is prominently displayed in their pictures.” -Gypsy
I should mention that there were many, many more with I will keep on hand and use for upcoming contests, so if you don’t see yours here, don’t fret. It will come back around at some point in the future.
Now for the next 11 seconds click on this.
It is with pride and pleasure that I announce Angel I. Franco the winner. For Angel’s efforts, I will come up with some kind of a grab bag or another, but for the rest of you, the challenge has been declared. Personally I am of the opinion that an hour on rollers sober is too much, so I will make an adjustment and cut that time in half. The first person who rides rollers for thirty minutes while taking a shot of beer every sixty seconds will win the book, and a lot of derelict’s unfaltering respect.
This will vaguely be like the Fat Cyclist’s 100 Miles To Nowhere, except no one will be benefited, blood and/or vomit will surely be spilt, and I don’t have any fancy Twin Six gear to honor the occasion.
I should also note that stationary trainers, spin bikes, and your mom will not be allowed for use in competition.
1 shot = 1 ounce.
1 beer= 12 ounces.
1 shot a minute = 30 shots = 2.5 beers.
In order to complete the full three beers, the first three minutes of competition, the contestant will have to do one shot every 30 seconds.
This makes a total of 36 shots equalling a total of three cans of beer.
Obviously there is an aspect of this that will have to be run on the honor system, as I doubt any of you will want to film the process, nor will I want to watch the whole thing (except for the crashes). So grab a trustworthy mate to snap some before and after photos as well as one to set the shots up and watch the clock. Also, don’t forget your messenger bag.
Now, from my attorney I have to post a disclaimer;
“Anyone choosing to engage in this contest does so by their own free will and any insult, injury, or damage that you may incur is the responsibility of said participant and All Hail The Black Market assumes no responsibility for anything that may happen as a result of participating in this or any related activity. For many, riding on rollers is an inherently dangerous activity, and doing so while drinking may result in dangerous dismounts or other serious injury – please wear appropriate head protection and place couch cushions and support personnel appropriately. Unlike me, Drink Responsibly and Know your Limits. If it seems like it is too much to drink, it probably is. And for the love of god, don’t drink and ride or drive. Stay at a friend’s place if necessary.”
I would also like to add that if said friend has a swimming pool, all the better.
He then wrote to me with this follow up;
“To be serious for a moment.. The disclaimer will not stop an injured hipster chic from suing you to help pay her Academy of Art tuition. No one in America is responsible for anything bad that happens to them, except Cheever. It’s his own fault every time.”
So with that being said, it’s a good rule of thumb to recognize that if something bad happens to you while engaging in this stunt, for the love of God accept some personal responsibility. Also, if you decide that you would like to sue me, remember this image;
A winner will be declared as soon as someone wins.
Now understand, I wouldn’t ever ask anyone to do something that I wouldn’t partake of myself, so in the name of science, I too took the task to hand;
(I did it inside of the house, because my assistant wasn’t interested in hanging out in the garage.)
In the spirit of being honest, I didn’t really begun to feel the effects of the beer until well after I had dismounted the bike and wandered away to survey the damage. With the help of my lovely assistant, I somehow put away 3.5 cans of beer in the given time, and only spilled a small portion of it.
Secondly, my time on the rollers was far more wobbly the first two minutes as I became used to the sensation of doing shots riding at the same time.
Lastly, more than any drunken sensation, I mostly just felt bloated, so with that realization I see now that this isn’t such a monumental task as it is a totally stupid one, but the one who cares to dare will walk away with the book and a story to tell.
Now then, onto other matters…
Andrew from Somethingorothermatosis emailed me and asked simply, can you give this a plug?
To that I say, ‘anything for you Andrew’. I aim to please the 24 to 539 individuals in Australia who continue tuning in here week after week.
To continue with the short bursts of whatever from wherever, here is another from George;
“Yeah just did a 4 hr dirt and road shred. I can’t feel my fingers. Awesome. Beer.”
My man obviously has some stellar taste in socks.
In other news from my old homie Daniel, who recently thought he was knocking on heaven’s door, he’s got some goods he’s trying to unload;
You may remember that the medical system just threw me for a loop. Since February I have been jumping threw hoops convinced I had Lymphoma for over 2 months, needless to say it was awesome, and my wife in particular loved the thought of me dying and leaving her with 3 kids… Any who, nearly $4k later, they found out I had the hiccups, they still haven’t apologized for costing me so much money. Actually they think I caught the CMV and then the EBV, which means I had mono and some other disease that made me feel like I was a 65 year old trapped in a 89 year old body. here is the link to my friend Craig’s website where I posted a description of the bike. I’m asking too much for the bike I know, but I hope to get around $1,200 to $1,500 if I can.
I attached a nice photo for you to print and use as a toilet seat cover.
So there you go. Anybody who might be looking for a totally bananas grocery getter, your prayers have been answered.
That’s just about it from this end of the room. I have lots more on deck for Monday including reviews of stuff, pictures of stuff, stories about stuff, and gardening tips.
Don’t forget. Weekends are for closers.
And thus ends today’s sermon. Gan I get and amen, brothers and sisters?
Can I get an amen?
AMEN! and a HALLELUJAH for good measure.
As I wait for my very own Vandal to make it’s way across the oil stained pond, I am counting just how many dang leprechauns I can fit in the things…on second thoughts I think I’ll just live in it.
With the before and after shots of the awesome bag, looks like the cat skated in and used the facilities while you opened the bag.
I can see your cat poop. How does that make you feel?
Actually it wasn’t my house, nor was it my cat. The fact of the matter is, I don’t know where the hell I was, but being a consummate professional, I took time to shoot photos. Just not enough time to see what was in the background.
that chet bearclaw crash is a classic. makes pro cycling look narrated by Bobke like childs play. now that’s PRO.
Your legs are big as my waist. You must be a powerhouse.
Since I don’t have the ‘mad skillz’ required to ride my rollers no handed(looking good Stevil), can I have my assistant pour the beer into my mouth?
p.s. shouldn’t there be whiskey involved?
1 shot = 1.5 ounces.
Too sexy for that trainer; so sexy it hurts.
I’m going to have to disqualify myself for this contest due to my already having done this…again. But I will be sending in a picture of my ass. Wait…did that too.
I’ve tried using beer as conditioner. Don’t believe the hype, it doesn’t work very well.
Stick to mayo.
sorry, but the math dork in me called in on this one.
It needs to be a shot every 30 seconds for the first six minutes, then a shot a minute for the remaining 24 minutes.
(every 30 seconds for three minutes, plus every minute after that adds up to 33 shots, still 3 shots short)
now go forth and try not to die.
Yeah, we used to do the last-man-riding, shot-a-minute roller derby at Cal Cycling. It was 10+ already drunk lightweights on rollers, and it still took 90+ minutes before everyone fell off. Your challenge is way too easy.
Maybe if it took place once you closed down your favorite bar, then it could be interesting.
Yeah, like I said, it was no great shakes, but then again, the point is just to do something stupid and win a book, so whatevs.
I think you should still run the ass-slap contest as well…
I’m sure it’s too late now for your contest but here goes. Find a cooler man than Mick Collins. I can’t think of one, not that I’m cool or anything. Check out the Gories footage from Detroit last year and hold on to your hat because it will knocked right the f@#k off.
HAHAHA!!! Drinking and driving, indoors 🙂
a little diddy about MW bags:
A friend of mine has an autistic 19yr old son who called her at work the other day and said ” I caught a troll” and hung up. After repeated calls over the next 2 hours she finally went home and found a midget dooor-to-door salesman locked in the closet being fed Lucky Charms through the crack at the bottom. Apparently her son thought he caught a troll!
What does this have to do with Mission Workshop? Not a f-ing thing…but my Rambler is pretty bad ass.
i like the before-and-after cat shit photoset. it really gives the sense of the passing of time. and cat food. that was clearly passed too.
Coffee is for closers! How many people do you know carry a set of brass balls in their suitcase?