Ego don’t sentio tardus.

Between leaving town, preparing my taxes, general apathy, and specific apathy, I have amassed yet another selection of whimsy and wonder that we have come to know as ‘The Mail Bag’. Occasionally these correspondences are regarding something important like a fund raiser for a fallen comrade, but more often than not, they are quick, and easily digestible bites of random flotsam for those with an attention span that rivals that of a flea.
With that said, let us roll out the carpet for another round of what’s going on with the people.

Going all the way back to 2010, Thom contacted me with photographic evidence that he is leading his kids down a suitable path of self destruction;
“Helping my kids keep Christmas classy.”
The Christmas Time Express.. ‘Where every car is the bar car.”
I can hear the single sided Foster Brooks-esque conversation at Thom’s house on Christmas morning.. “Comeon kidss.. It’ss gonna be gr.. great.. Daddy’s gonna make you another *urp* train tunnel…”
This next bit has made the rounds several times over, but I have to give Curtis credit for cluing me in back when it was still fresh;
“Rejoice, for heroes still exist in this world.”
Luck is a funny thing, and something that I generally don’t have much of. This also reminds me slightly of a conversation I had recently with a friend of mine who is an EMT. He said he had gone to a call last week where a fellow had been driving 70 miles an hour on a local road called Bear Creek. Now understand that this road is extremely windy and one that under no circumstances should someone be driving 70 miles an hour on. As you might expect, he lost control, smashed into a guard rail, was ejected through his front windshield, and subsequently run over by the next two cars behind him. When my friend arrived on the scene, the fire department was extracting him from beneath the second car by actually rolling it off of him. When all was said and done, this guy suffered only two separated shoulders, and that was it.
I’ve always said, if something like this were to ever occur to me, I would immediately make a B-line to the nearest corner store and buy a gross of lottery tickets.
This has nothing to do with luck, diving onto a shark, or crashing your car, but Peter got in touch and said he was attempting to unload his old Ibis Uncle Fester;
Like I said last week, I don’t want to have the Black Market become a clearing house for people’s stuff, (that is unless I’m making a cut) but Peter’s an old friend, and it’s a pretty bitchin bike, so I might as well.
If you are interested or have any questions, you can get him here.
Nick came through with a clip for the ages of a ripper named Alex doing some ripping;
“Mr. Kinevil,
On a bike my technical expertise extends to keeping me off my face/ass at most times. Mr. Alex Coleborn seems to be setting the bar a bit higher.

Stay rad,
Nick H.”

Yeah, that was pretty cool, but can he do it on a fixed gear?
In the world art that does the opposite of not suck, Connie got in touch with some bad news for people with bad taste;
Greetings from Vancouver, BC. I thought that you, as a fan of art that doesn’t suck, might be interested in this nugget.
Thomas Kinkade is a dick.
I hope this finds you well, and I hope it makes you want to dance and clap the way I wanted to when I read it.
“Connie” Lyngaas

My former girlfriend who now goes by ‘my wife’ has said that this guy and his wife frequent the place where she works. Apparently Mrs. Kinkade is generally blown out on painkillers, and he tends to be a drunk and misogynistic creep, neither of which is terribly surprising.
Though I’m not a big fan of his particular brand of schlock, I would be lying if I said I didn’t like his earlier work;
While we’re on the topic of the Cthulhu, Brent sent a photo of a recent acquisition while exploring the murky depths;
Here is a shot of a bike brought up from the depths in Falmouth Harbor in Antigua. It was under the dock alongside the big grey boat in the second photo;
Yes that is someones private boat, all 300 feet of it. (our little 52′ race boat is in the foreground, owned by the son of the guy who created Moosehead Beer, yea I do have to work for Canadians now and then) Anyway, a couple of Antigua divers pulled it up and tried to ride it down the dock, I was too slow to get the camera out for that….”

Firstly, I would like to note that when I was employed at a shop, someone brought a bike in for me to fix that was in just about the same condition. I told him to get the hell out of the store.
Secondly, that 300 foot dinghy looks strikingly similar to the one I own.
From Brian Butler who I first met when he was wrenching for the Polo/RLX mountain bike team, I got this astonishing example of illegal wrestling;
“I can’t wait to see what you can do with this….
The highlight for me is at 2:19.
Dig it-

over-n-out bug trucker,

What I can do with this? You mean besides become totally outraged? Where the hell were the refs!? Are they blind?
How are they going to let this happen?! This is the most illegal thing I’ve ever seen in professional wrestling, ever!
Someone who does know a thing or two about wrestling is Rick Hunter;
He also knows some stuff about tinkering and making bitchin things. Two cases in point are his new drop outs, and the new Hunter ‘Nugs’, a pair of which he presented to me last weekend in his newly updated packaging;
He obviously knows a couple of things about merchandising as well.
From his Nugs Flickr set I found this;
“These are straddle cable barrel adjusters for Paul brakes..They use a road cable for the straddle wire. Offers a long wet ride worth of adjustment. I made some for the CX team this fall, now I have a bunch more and want to sell them to everybody that uses Paul brakes ( the best )…
Asking 25$ a pair (2 wheels ) cables not inquiries welcome..California please add 9.75%..
For questions or PayPal please use rick–at–

Aside from a tiny bit of filing the cable head to prevent it from binding in the barrel adjuster, these were a snap to install, and work like a champ.
I don’t see why it wouldn’t work with other styles of brakes with a similar configuration to the Pauls, but then again, I don’t see why anyone would be running anything besides Pauls anyway.
For reference, this image sent to me from Andy of Fyxomacallit is an adequate illustration as to what sort of adventure you and your Nugs could find yourself on;
Never has their been a more suitable period on a sentence that are any of the random posts here.
Finally, before I go, I would like to wish the great Burt Reynolds a very happy 75th birthday.
If anybody knows how I can get ahold of him, I have a jersey I’d kinda like to get into his hands.
It is with that, that I wish you all fine weekends whether you happen to be aboard a bike, shoveling snow, or monkeying around within the confines of a library.

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5 Responses to “Ego don’t sentio tardus.”

  1. Jason February 11, 2011 at 7:05 am #

    I need to get my hands on a set of those Nugs.

  2. dave February 11, 2011 at 7:08 am #

    Re: story about the drunk Serbian guy who killed the shark… This resort is the same one that current Egyptian dictatorial touchhole Mubarak ran off to after the, uh, poor reception to his speech that he was going to remain president of Egypt. See second paragraph to Times story:
    Any chance the Serb can go back and take a shot at Mubarak?

  3. Veloron February 11, 2011 at 7:43 am #

    Big wrestling dude dropping trou was especially erotic.

  4. ulysses rongquillo February 11, 2011 at 7:46 am #

    Stan Beaver would make Thomas Kinkade look like a rank amateur.
    Pass the bottle rockets.

  5. Roger February 12, 2011 at 6:21 am #

    I have a newfound respect for Kinkade. Pissing on Pooh and dedicating it to Walt = Bukowski-esque awesomeness.