And on the eighth day, God created neurotic, type A wing nuts.
As we get to the bottom of the barrel, and are scraping it with our gigantic silver spoon, our minds are as pure as our bodies are tainted.
Image and corresponding story via The Bunnyhawk.
“What’s the story behind the opening image?” You might be asking yourself, and thankfully there is an article summing the whole sorted saga up.
Portland East don’t take no guff from anybody.
And in response to Bunnyhawk sending this link to me, I concluded simply;
“Poor guy. He dug his own hole. Granted, it’s only three feet deep, but it is still well over his head.”
If he wanted to stop being treated like a dick, I suspect that maybe he would stop acting like one.
Now that we got that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, let’s continue.
A long, long time ago, Captain Dave sent me this observation;
“I didn’t know you were a Jew, or that you played drums.”
I’m only Jewish on Passover, and the only drums I play are air.
Slappy from the Stomparillaz Brigade sent me this short and sweet one;
“Re: Who wouldn’t?”
I told him that for next Halloween, he could wear that and his Rock Racing ‘Here To Stay’ shirt and be dressed as Captain Ironic.
In regards to Friday’s post and the email I got from Josh about his wee one’s major Tacchino melt down, the primary conspirator to the debacle, Jim got in touch to illuminate the finer details;
It was a hell of a race day. >500 registered, 8 kegs of beer and several cases sold, major swag given out, and hundreds given out in Turkey Slap Cash Primes – Slap The Turkey, Win $50. (Seriously. You had to slap a guy standing by the beer/food/band pavilion, in a turkey suit, as you rode by and you’d win 50).
Official press release, which got major play here.
Local blog coverage here.
(And) pictures – mostly from professional photogs – here.
Great day man. Can’t thank you enough for the support. Pimped the bejeeezus out of you at the start of the big 4 races (C, B masters, B, and A masters) and in the pre- and post-event pub. Hopefully you get something of a marketing boost out of it. I’m gassed – wiped out. Great course, gave away 30 pounds in sausage primes to mid-pack riders, tons of swag to podiums, huuuge fields, and we had to stop the masters A when a riderless horse entered the course. In the words of our Emcee, Bill Schieken (who operates CXhairs blog) – “There’s a horse on the course… I think he’s in 10th!”
How well did it go over?
Well enough that we’ve been asked to move the date to late September, where we’ll kick off the MABRA series. That will mean ~ 650 racers, 15 kegs of beer, and… holy fuck. It is going to kill me. You should make it a date, come out and join us, and see if you can wreck it for everybody, just as I’m endeavoring to wreck it for everybody.
That’s the kind of event I am proud to have an association with, even if it’s from a distance, and I look forward to a day that I might not only attend in spirit, but in body as well.
Patrick came though with a request of sorts, concerning his co-op’s newest attempt at raising funds by dropping pants;
We’d emailed you this back when you were at thee old bummer life. Anyways, our co-op has gone and made a calendar of us in all our fleshy glory for the second year in a row. Each month pairs one or two members with reasons for why we love riding. It’s a great, NSFW way to support the co-op, but really, we’re mostly out to have fun;
I’ve attached an image. Calendars are available at www.bikesaviours(dot)org . If you could post something, great. If not, no biggie. We love you anyway!
Being that I, like David Cross’ character on ‘Arrested Development’, am a nevernude, I can’t quite wrap my mind around the calendar’s premise, but it’s for a good cause so I suspect my walls won’t be without one for long.
Now then, it is utterly my pleasure to bring this next email to your attention.
From Hewhowillremainunnamed, I got the following heads up about our beloved Cat C Vanilla Thrower;
“Greetings from Oakland,
I thought you might appreciate these photos of the Speedvagen hucker. He and his fast looking but slow as fuck crew showed up to Soil Saloon on Halloween. This was pre-race;
Photo by Nerd Lover.
Keep up the good work.
Also, the menacing Downzig on the jerseys has done wonders to keep roadies off my wheel heading up Tunnel Road. I appreciate it.”
Then another hecannotbenamed forwarded me this shot from the race in question;
Photo by Nick.
Could it be that we have actually found the offender? The discovery of this photo is like one of Big Foot, and FDR in drag rolled into one.
Now of course what I would like even more is an actual photo of the actual shameful occurrence, but barring that, I have compiled an assortment of media for you to scroll though repeatedly that I feel offers the same sense of satisfaction;
Now I understand there exists an outside chance that, despite my every effort to confirm this to be the actual crybaby, it could possibly be a case of mistaken identity. If that is in fact the situation, then I just threw my every shred of journalistic integrity out the window, but considering I only had a few quarter shreds to begin with, I don’t have far to fall.
That said, if this is the crybaby, then may he enjoy his roast here today.
Two things I have absolutely no tolerance for in the world of bicycle riding and the competitive athletic pursuits therein, are bullies and crybabies, (unless said crybabies are three years old, then they get a pass) and as long as there is a breath in my lungs and mobility in my two typing fingers, individuals who are motivated by a false sense of importance in an event such as this, be it the participants or the promoters, that is ultimately achieved at the expense of fellow competitors, spectators and/or their own dignity, will be shamed relentlessly and without mercy.
Then, as luck would have it, no sooner had I typed the period on that sentence did I get this heads up from Eric;
“clearly the reason I managed not to DNF in single b’s was the aerodynamic kit;
griffith park cyclonaut race, day 2, los angeles – land of the mystery missile.
and in case you haven’t been sent this already, apparently there was a bit of angry alpha man energy in the elite race. these guys were jousting for, i dunno, 87th place on lap one in a field of 100+, probably 3 minutes down on treefarm and adam craig from the gun when midway thru a 4 man squeeze out of one of the off-camber turns, someone got his panties all twisted….
See what happens when they don’t allow beer primes?
As the curtain begins to fall on Vanilla Thrower’s odyssey, and now the plight of Fightin’ Irish George Barthel, I hang my head in embarrassment for them both, and hope that one day they will learn to act their age.
Do you like apples? How about them apples?
Finally, as I stated in regard to Danzig, and which can very easily be applied to not only the poor sports in our ilk, but every day life in general, if they wanted to stop being treated like dicks, all they’d have to do is stop acting like them.
Well Stevil i’ll probably dress as a STompariLLA for halloween again and as for you being never nude, the first time i saw you, you and your buddies were hosing each other off bareass after sswc09 in napa, just sayin’ you would a made the hairy tattooed back calender no doubt
Is a cat. C Vanilla thrower the same thing as a Purple Headed Yogurt Flinger?
While we’re on the subject of Danzig…
This was a comment on Youtube below the classic video of Danzig getting knocked the fuck out:
“Well you don’t have to be tough to be scary, scarrry, or scarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry! Look at Charles Manson. That fucker’s scaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, but I’m sure he’s a pussy one-on-one. Anyway, who cares how “tough” or “scary” a musician is? Most of them, that I know of aren’t into MMA or anything. That PLAY MUSIC. Shit, most of them weigh 100 pounds. I really don’t care. I’m just trolling today, because I’m being lazy. I’m a Danzig fan regardless.”
I’m glad you all enjoyed my fancy steel bike tossing and have gotten good mileage out of the story. Though many of the reported facts seem to be out of sync with the truth, such as poor showing at soil saloon, and that it was during a c race, the meat of the story, that I tossed my very pretty, very expensive bike over the tape, is correct. Surprisingly, your readers failed to report that I also let out lame roar and posed hulk smash style post toss. There are many other facts about me your readers would undoubtedly find despicable such as the sheer number of bikes I own or the fact that I own a powermeter (somewhere), but I’ll leave you sleuths to the task of discovering them.
Apparently the gentleman from Los Angeles hasn’t seen Days of Thunder for quite some time.
I was in a little local cross race and after a run-up, I was remounting, but started to fall to one side, so I turned into it to stay upright, clipped in, and took off. When I turned my front wheel, it apparently blocked another dude remounting, who shouted “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!” at the top of his lungs. As I rode away I yelled “sorry!” back and everyone racing around me was saying I didn’t do anything wrong.
To Hewhowillremainunnamed from Oakland.
I never claimed to be fast, I just wear bike gear when riding a bike, how silly of me. however, as I know the 2 riders who finished ahead of me at this chill event, I can only assume that when you say, “slow as f-ck” it means “faster than me but I don’t know the guy and for whatever reason, I don’t like him”
I’m sure you will hide behind your apathy and dislike for competitive events to defend your lack of speed on a bike. I mean, why should you put yourself out there by, giving some effort, training and taking the risk that you still might not cut it?
You probably laugh at people who take sports seriously. I laugh at people who are afraid to take sports (or anything else) seriously and tell themselves they would be great if they actually tried. So be it.
Correction: the picture was post-race, beer in hand, waiting for you to finish.
Slow as f-ck but faster than you
I went to a Tower Records in store signing with Danzig in Irvine Meadows in 91…he was all smiley and I asked if I could take his picture…then the pose came on..deep and dark.
It made me laugh. He is a small dood.
The show at Irvine Meadows was amazing…never before have I seen a show with three mosh pits that swirled like an hand crank beater. Try to get out of one and you are thrown into the next.
that CX pugilist should know better than to leave the door open like that. He got what he deserved: punked in the corner, then a beat-down from Little Loudass.
You guys are all being way too harsh on the vanilla thrower.
Are you forgetting the neon clad heroes of yesteryear??
Throwing your bike, like spousal abuse, is really only done out of love
Vanilla tosser seems to have some self-esteem and at least a bit of a sense of humor, but slow as f-ck apparently is a bit uptight. Same person, or not? Can’t quite tell. I, for one, definitely point the finger and laugh at people that take sports too seriously. Especially ‘cross. And, yes, I do it from the sidelines, with a beer in hand. While the race is going on. And wearing Carhartts. So you are undoubtedly faster (looking) than me. I’m not even in the race.
I toss my bike, and I toss my wads. So What??? The frequency of the former very much depends on the frequency of the latter.
I threw a mountain bike once or twice, but it was when I was 17 and had anger issues.
And I know lots of cool people that are pretty into their racing.
And lots of cool people that aren’t.
And I’d never tell someone else how to do either.
And as for that tackling incident – seems like it stems from not enough of the above.
“You’ve won the Cat5 World Championships!” Bhwah!
I used to own a heart rate monitor, then I discovered masturbation.
The Days of Thunder sciene was great! I am glad the tackler got his clock cleaned, the pics. were classic!
You can tell yourself whatever you like- throwing your bike is lame. Throwing your Vanilla is dumb.
You are missing the point, and that’s losing fast or slow.
(lol-the spam proofing word is”maturity”)
Grad school has been distracting me from reading what is truly important and my Black Market scholarship is not up to date. Could someone have pity & provide me with a link to the original Vanilla Thrower post?
It started (I think) in last Monday’s post. Somewhere below the fat guy running and the CX pics:
sweet sissy levers on that ‘vagen.
Bike throw=bitch move. No justification is possible.
Bad behavior all around. Calling attention to idiot behavior is all well and good at the time. However, at what point does ridicule itself become bullying?
Seems posting a photo and name calling is as harsh behavior as anything this guy and his “slow crew”are guilty of.
You may be glad to learn that in south-western pennsyltucky such serious behavior is looked down upon…elite race exhibit A…
it should be noted that the young man being targeted in this heckling had his parents standing along the sidelines.
I call it like I see it. If you do something heroic, I will sing your praises. If you act like a dope, I’m going to make fun of you.
If that offends you or conflicts with your sensibilities, get fired from your job and start your own website.
Finally, the only way one can act like a bitch in a race and get away with it, is if they are Joe Blanco, which I am reasonably sure he was not. http://www.flickr.com/photos/allhailtheblackmarket/5183945808/
Thanks for the love Stevil.
Cross is cool, or it can be, when it works as a mashup of fun and competition. Taking it too seriously in a fit of Cat 5-with-carbon-wheels anal retentiveness, or not seriously enough as if it was an out-of-control college frat party and as if people actually enjoy having beer thrown in their face, really does actually wreck it for everybody. I’ve sort of made it my mission to beat back the creeping seriousness that is sucking the fun out of cross. At the same time, I’m glad to have avoided problems with spectator interference because that shit ain’t cool either.
When it’s done right, cross is like a big house party. Bring all your friends, go as straight edge serious or as drunk as you want to be and it will be fun for every M-F’er who attends, but don’t get on my ass about my choice in drapes and don’t shit on my floor because that will, in fact, wreck it for everybody.