Scrapings from beneath the proverbial shoe.
Photo courtesy of Chickenpuff.
First up from Yuri (who I should note is no longer with Marin Bicycles, but has moved full time into the mouth of Bike Monkey Magazine), sent me a little slice of jaw droppingness with the news that Michael Vick would like to get a dog.
Isn’t that sweet? He misses the little pitter patter of dog’s blood dripping onto the floor.
As if his previous actions didn’t do so on their own, the fact that he has even vocalized such a thing I think is evidence enough that he is a truly horrible human being.
As a matter of fact, and on an only slightly related note, a few weeks ago I saw a guy rollerblade by me with a male and female pit bull on the end of his leash, wearing a Vick jersey. Unfortunately both of my eyeballs fell out of my head and as I was busy trying to reel them back in, was unable to procure any sort of photographic proof.
As long as we’re on the topic of hell, and people who most likely will be going there, Ben from One On One emailed me this;
If you laughed, you’ll be right there along side of him. Then again, I suppose the fact that I posted it makes me just as guilty, so I suppose I should just go ahead and ask that you save me a seat.
At this juncture, it would only be right that I take yet another opportunity to mention the newest AHTBM product to get pooped out of the pipe; (The socks.. Not the skivvies.)
Please note that I have both small (slash) Medium for those of you with feet that are the opposite of big, and large (slash) XL for those of you with feet that are the opposite of little.
Place your orders now, and I can almost guarantee that I can get them shipped before the eggnog starts to curdle.
In the world of bikes and bike related nonsensery, a likable douchebag just completed a build for the ages;
I often refer to a bike like this as one that makes my pants feel tight, but this one happened to blow them clean off my bottom half;
Holy mother of Shawn Cassidy, that is rad.
When looking over my shoulder at this bike last week, as we discussed the previously mentioned douchebag, Demonika said in an awed tone.. “He’s got good taste, that one.”
Indeed he does.
Now that I have some room in garage, I’m rethinking this whole ‘pared down quiver’ thing.
For the observant in the bunch, you surely noticed the fine EVIL detailing, which reminds me that Captain Dave has nearly put all of the finishing touches on a Cars-R-Coffins/AHTBM/Evil Cycling collaborative jersey which should be made available for pre-order soon.
I was a little weary of what it might end up look like, as Dave’s pedigree in jersey design is nothing to write home about, but I was proven wrong, and I look forward to a time in the near future where I can present them here.
For now, here is the rough draft;
From a land most likely commonly frequented by Tom of Finland (link NSFW, or people with delicate sensibilities), Neil sent me a correspondence from his new home of Germania;
“Hey Stevil ! Love your blog. I’m a good friend of Jeremy Smith’s. Moved from the SF bay area to Berlin about 5 months ago and there’s tons of abandoned bikes on the streets. People just leave them locked up, some asshole kicks and bends the wheels and then they sit. Eventually, parts begin disappearing and these silent carcasses of shame litter the streets.
I think Berlin traded SF dying junkies for dying bicycles. Anyways, I’ve started taking photographs of the bikes and writing bleak musings to accompany them on a blog called Forsaken Bikes.”
And one of my favorite bikes I’ve found:
Who knew Berlin had become the mecca of broken toys?
All of which are either destined to get buried, or possibly ridden at the dump;
Anyway, that which Neil has taken to documenting reminds me of one I found a couple of years ago;
In response to the occasional boxes of total crap that make their way to my door from One On One, I was tempted to package this bad boy up and send it long with a request to have it fixed up for me by the following weekend, but as they say, the road to Hell is paved with half assed aspirations of revenge.
Or at the very least, that which you try to avoid stepping in.
Hunter is the man. That frame just took the sag out of my foreskin. If it last longer than 4 hours I’m going to sue him.
Thanks Stevil I love the sound of Dead Kennedys in the morning it sounds like….Victory
okay, but what will the bibs look like?
It took me two years in a cave in Humboldt county, stoned out of my gourd on the cryptic crippler, to come up with that GoGurl jersey.
Thanks for the glowing bike review Stevil. And yes I’ve been all over it like Julian Assange on the Swedish Bikini Team.
Well, I figure all the good stuff is in hell anyway, right? At least that’s what I’m told by people who seem to “know” about these things.
I’ll save you a place by the fire…