As with just about anyone with a nose and two ears to the ground, I too was shaken to the core with last week’s allegations made by Floyd Landis in regards to Steve Zahn. Beyond that however, there was something mentioned about other visible players in the speed cycle game and their use of the drugs that enhance one’s ability to excel at said speed cycling.
I very much would like to get on the bandwagon and spill my two cents worth of beans as well, but I won’t because as it turns out, two people who are far better writers than I am beat me to the punch. (That and the fact that from my prospective, no more than 48 hours after this story broke, it had already been flogged to death, but such is life when you only post three times a week.) I would also like to note that the literal use of this colloquialism infers that they hit me before I was able to hit them. The fact of the matter is, if we are going to stay on track with this analogy, they beat the shit out of me before I was even out of my chair.
I of course am talking about this piece written by Adam Myerson, pictured here looking undoubtedly not juiced, and of course, the far more profane version that’s up on the EVIL site site written by our very own Captain Dave.
Go ahead and read those articles. I’ll wait.
I will say simply that I think the whole thing smacks of B.S. Floyd, Lance, Bruyneel.. The whole lot. Frankly, I don’t particularly care for being lied to, as I take quite enough of that from the government, major news outlets, advertisers, the medical industry, and Cartoon Network saying that they will eventually release all of Dexter’s Laboratory on DVD, thankyouverymuch. I don’t need people I actually feel some alignment with doing it too.
I can’t very well conclude any of my thoughts on this succinctly, as the other shoe is far from dropping, but as I stated elsewhere on the interwebs recently, I am prepared for an absolute shit storm, as I’ve been standing by with my waders and umbrella at the ready for years.
I promise, after the sheer amount of attention this has received in the last four days, this will be the last I speak of it.
In news of cyclists who dope and make no bones about preaching it from the highest tower, we have two announcements for upcoming events that if you loved yourself, you would be at.
The first of which I was notified about by none other than Corndog of Dank Bags hisself;
More information can be found either at Pilderwasser or via the lovelies at Mobius Cycle.
Secondly, shortly after returning home from sullying my domain, Matt Case took time from smelling my absconded underpants to notify us of this shibang going down in Portlandia;
“If you have ever thought about coming to Portland in order to participate in booze and stripper fueled messenger mayhem you’d better figure out a way to drag your sorry asses to the PDX now because come June 1st it’ll be all over.
There will be dice rolling, beer drinking, U-Lock horse shoeing, foot downing, track standing, thumb wrestling, short stopping! You’ll be asked, nay!, expected to consume painful amounts of coffee and wash that down with a gazillion beers! (maybe not a whole gazillion). You’ll Goldsprint until you puke, but there’ll be plenty of beer to wash that taste out of your mouth so don’t worry. You’re going to participate in a main race that will tax both body and mind, and nary a Redbull in sight! You’ll see all there is to see in our fair city! You’ll meet up with friends old and new to celebrate this great weekend and all of the folk who made it great. Finally, you’ll sit around on Monday drinking more beer and having a BBQ while a bunch of yahoos play in the oldest messenger style hardcourt polo tournament in the world! This may or may not be fun, come see which it is.
The Last of the Disorganizers”
No Redbull? I don’t go to anything that doesn’t have Redbull.
On to other matters, last weekend Hunter was giving me a little grief for always riding with a backpack. I don’t know why I do it, but aside from speed cycle rides, I always have a backpack on. It’s like a security blanket, but I’m safe with the knowledge that should I feel the need to pick up a mid-ride 12 pack, retrieve my mail, or swing by and pick up a bitchen sweater, I’ll have no problem carrying it home.
However a few days ago, I had the golden opportunity to use my bag simply to extract some remnants of what undoubtedly lead to a really crappy next morning;
I thank the trolls who left this pitched off the side of one of my favorite trails, as I was able to collect 15 cents on their return. Who’s laughing now?
Of course those responsible for leaving this behind probably need the money more than I do;
Though there is no connection whatsoever between white trash and the next topic on hand, I’ll bring it up now on account of because I have intended to for weeks.
As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Doesn’t somebody say that?
Anyway, Chris at the Electra Bicycle Company did me a humongous solid a few weeks ago and sent me a care package that was heavy on the care;
(Cat ass and tail wasn’t included.)
I don’t know what I’ve done to be honored with such a parcel, but I’m glad I did.
As soon as I find an afternoon, I’m gonna sit myself down and lace up those hubs. It will be then that my broke down townie will 51% less broke down.
As I’ve said before, sometimes good things do happen for bad people and I have to thank Chris for making sure that it was so.
In other news, Max sent me a trailer for a movie that could very well be my own personal Star Wars;
I’ll be the guy sleeping outside the theatre waiting for tickets when and if this ever comes to town.
In news of the handsomely dressed, I got a package from Voler on Friday, which I spent the better part of the day going back and fourth with them about, due to a slight color variation but I think she’ll be worked out by the time you read this and the machines will be in full blown production on our goods;
(Yep, the lower left rendition is misspelled. I’m aware of this, smarty pants.)
Now I have got it in my mind that I’d like to do a vest and arm warmers. The madness will never stop.
That’s just about it from my end. I would like to take the opportunity to say that this weekend found me in a ridiculously fortunate position that happened to coincide with the turning over of 10,000 miles on my speed cycle;
You see, I was generously scheduled a massage at a fancy-pants spa in a fancy-pants town. All I had to do was get there, so midday on Saturday I donned my stretchy pants and tap shoes and got on my bike, pointing her for points away;
Upon my arrival, an attractive woman led me into a dark corridor where I was instructed to change into a big, fluffy terrycloth robe. After putting my clothing into a locker, I was directed to a steam shower. I then put my clothes back on and went next door where I ate a huge barbecue burger with onion rings on it, french fries, and a chocolate milk shake. Upon finishing, I returned to the spa, had a 30 minute massage and then another steam shower.
In an attempt at adding a suitable visual, I Googled ‘massage’, kitten massage’, ‘gates of Heaven’, and though not entirely appropriate, I even gave ‘rub and tug’ a go, but nothing I found really does the experience justice.
If that is how the other half lives, I want in on it. All of my birthdays, anniversaries, and ‘congratulations you dont have V.D.’ days combined can’t even compare.
Having mentioned that, here we are on Monday again, which no matter how great your weekend was, in comparison, is always kind of the kick in the pants.
Just take a deep breath and wait. It’ll be over soon enough.