A whole lot of shanking going on.
Tried as I might, I couldn’t seem to figure out another vacation before this morning rolled around so here I am, back on the trolly as it were, attempting to bring you another slice of the misspellvaganza that is All Hail The Black Market.
As many of you know, I have a rocky relationship with the United States Postal Service. Hell, for that matter, more often than not I seem to be at odds with anybody who delivers anything. Luckily, those clouds parted recently with the delivery of my very own Cinelli super powers ring, sent to me my none other than Mr. Columbo himself;
Free forehead punches will commence immediately.
Not only did the International God of shipping internationally see fit that such a dazzling bobble should find it’s way to me, but only a day later did the fruits of cyclocrossing superstar Adam Myerson’s labor show up from Czechoslovakia in the form of my very own Budvar team kit;
I’m already drunk with power.
Of course one can’t mention being drunk with power without making mention of everybody’s buddys with a fetish for all things Belglandia, Ritte Van Vlanderingham;
Drunk with power, or just drunk?
Soon Lanolin will be both, as along with Soulcraft Bicycles and myself, will be hosting a party in celebration of a bunch of crap, ourselves included;
Please note that I said we are hosting this party. This does not mean that we’ve plunked down credit cards so that the freeloading masses can come in and suckle on our teets. For one, we don’t have credit cards. Secondly, if you want to go to a real industry party and wait in painfully long lines for a single free drink while rubbing elbows with the creme of the douche, knock yourself out. I’ve been to enough of those (one) to know they blow balls. Thirdly, you don’t want to suckle our teets anyway. That’s gross. Think of this as hanging out in a bar with your friends and basking in the glow of the bottom feeders, though like El Corpo is famous for saying, “bottom feeding is for poseurs. We live down here”. This is just an excuse to get loose.
No hype, no headaches… At least until sometime the next day. And just remember- Hats aren’t allowed in the bar and wigs aren’t allowed in the restaurant.
To jump from under-industry news, to regular industry news, several weeks ago I was bestowed with a new top secret product from the good people at Giro, which since we all know the name of Giro’s game, I guess the official title for would be foot helmets.
Before I junked ’em up with my nasty hoofs however, I got lots of fancy product type of shots on my garage floor;
Armed with those toe spikes, let’s see how many races I’ll be ruining now?
I would guess that since the new kicks ‘dropped’ at Eurobike, it’s safe for me to make mention of them here.
Now then.. I have long been a full blown proponent of Shimano and Sidi’s lines of mountain bike shoes, and so far in my relationship with the Giro shoes, I can say without pause that they are every bit as good as the aforementioned. Granted, I’ve only been using them for a month, but as of this moment, I’m sold.
If the entire line of foot helmets are as good as their tried and true line of head helmets, then it looks to me like they have knocked this project way the hell out of the park, into the street, and through the windshield of the drunk guy in the green Chevy pickup.
Well played Giro. Well played indeed.
In the world of time sensitive news bites, I got this piece from Josh;
The Intergalactic Pilots (*editor’s note- The second best team to ever don a jumpsuit*) have done a bit of restructuring and are ready to (re)launch. We’re in need of some assistance spreading the word (by September 17th).
I realize promoting another man’s jersey might not be in the best interest of you and the AHTBM empire, but I’m asking… No begging that you make a little mention on the site.
The Unofficial-Official Steel Wool jersey.
That is all.
I do what I can, when I can. Especially if it’s in the name of steel and/or wool.
Finally just cause it’s a video, and everybody likes those, a clip from Dav;
Kinda more bitchen then not.
With that I say, ‘buckle up, Buttercup ’cause it’s Friday.”
Come on, then, Steve. We’ve been over this: I’d rather have a free bottle in front of me, than a pre-frontal lobotomy…
bummer those giros shoes don’t “drop” until Feb ’11 … just when I was about to bug my better half for a birthday present.
Uh, man, Czechoslovakia hasn’t existed for like 17 years now! Time to catch up. 🙂
WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE FREAKY-DEAKY DUTCH BUILDING RIDERS THINKING? My butthole was puckered up tight when they were on the top of the building, never mind the fact they had to jump off a few stories when they got done. God, I’m a pussy…
Next you’re gonna tell me that East Berlin isn’t surrounded by a wall anymore.
The fact is when I wrote the post I wasn’t sure if it arrived from the Czech Republic or Slovakia, so I just split the difference.
I’m an ugly American.