What’s in a name?
The clock is ticking.
As of, and including today, you now have seven days in which to place your order for the never again produced Smokey and The Bandit replica woolie;
If you want to snag a larger version of this graphic so as to send something to your grandma to show her what you’d like for your birthday, alls you gotta do is go here.
I would also like to mention that I just shipped a batch of super secret surprises to Earth, Wind and Rider, one of which will be included with every jersey. Secondly, in a recent conversation with Captain Bill, who steers the E,W&R ship, he reminded me that these will come with a small zip (I believe) pocket on the back that you can hold a phone, a camera, a few smashed beer cans, or a wallet (unless, as he said, you’re George Costanza), so if that doesn’t sweeten the deal, I don’t know what can.
The fact that this project is about to launch is bitter sweet. It’s sweet for obvious reasons. I’ve wanted to see this through for several years, and after long last I finally get to. It’s bitter simply because I have no idea what to do next.
I have some new Voler goods in the works, as well as a batch of hydrationables, but beyond that I’m torn whether I should do a run of tweed spat and vest combos, bongo drums, or Luchador masks;
Image courtesy of Brado.
At a time I considered doing a run of beer can camouflage, ala Anti-Hero, but was foiled when I came across this web gem;
As the rain fell sideways recently, I took my last dollar I went to the corner store and bought a can of Coke so that I could make one of my own. Apparently I have an average can opener that is unlike the necessary average can opener, and while the bottom came off with nary an issue, the top proved to be a bit more problematic.
This of course leaves me continuing to drink my beer in public out of a beer can, or the ever sneaky tube sock, which strangely hasn’t been an issue thus far.
Besides the sale of cüzies and everything else related to the lifestyle of the damned that we lead, the Pedalr site has got it in spades and has been cooking with gas recently. Souphorse has gotten on board with the site’s founder AK, and recently threw up (not in the barfy sense) a poll for folks to take part in to assist them in making it a better experience. If you would like to make your voice heard, as well as enter for the chance to win a limited edition Artcrank print, you need look no further than here.
As far as other internet related goings on, the kind people from Bicycling Magazine recently had a lapse of judgement when they offered me a guest spot on their web log. For two days I struggled with a topic, as I don’t typically have any tips on training like a pro, or glaringly opposed product comparisons between identical carbon road bikes. What I did do however, was just start banging on my keyboard and hoped that something cohesive would appear as a result.
As it turned out, my hope was a false one, but they decided to post it anyway and for that I have to offer them thanks.
As you might well imagine, no sooner had the article been posted, did some people take exception to my use of the word ‘fag’. One of my defenders noted via the Twitter that referring to a cyclist as Lance was an insult, and as such calling one a fag was a similar affront. I have to correct this line of thinking, for when people call me Lance, and as I expressed in a reply, it’s no different than when I call someone playing basketball ‘Shaq’, or someone in the boxing gym (where I spend an awful lot of time these days) ‘Mike Tyson’, or when I call someone playing chess ‘Viswanathan’, who it should be noted is the current world champion of the game.
All this does is display to anyone within earshot my ignorance of their particular discipline. The same can be said for anyone who might call someone on a bike ‘Lance’, and especially me, because unless he has actually doped to his gills and beyond, thus causing a sudden and profound burst in body hair growth, there is no way anyone could mistake us for one another.
Now, being called a fag on the other hand is indeed puzzling, because I rarely have sexual relations with men while riding my bike anymore, so I can only assume that this has to do with the fact that the clothing I wear while aboard my speed cycle brings to mind images such as this;
And saying ‘brings to mind’ is a bit of a misnomer because this is exactly what I wear while speedcycling, so in defense of the folks exclaiming such an observation, I guess I have to say ‘guilty as charged’.
Ironically as we come to a close on today’s post, I feel the need to let one final cat out of the bag in that though the previously mentioned AHTBM items might never roll off the assembly line into the light of day, we are almost guaranteed to each be wearing a branded leather Gestapo cap and cod piece before Independence Day.
If you’re like me and assume if we are going to have disparaging comments belted at us from passing cars, I might as well include a selection of items in the store to help us all look the part.
Hey Lance Armstrong!
About your comment:
>>>we are almost guaranteed to each be wearing a branded leather Gestapo cap and cod piece before Independence Day.
Just remember – you can only wear the *white* Gestapo caps and cod pieces *after* Memorial Day and *before* Labor Day. It’s gauche to show up at work in a white codpiece on, say, the Vernal Equinox.
On the other hand, you can wear the black codpiece and Gestapo cap any time. Walking around in naught but those items never goes out of style – despite what your preacher, mom, and wife say.
I thought I remember a rumor about arm warmers, maybe a vest? The way this winter is hanging on around here I could use both…
Maybe they mistook you for someone who rides a Harley:
[Oh, and my Captcha was “Ivanovic Procksh”, the Ukranian prostitute who pioneered ass-to-mouth.]
Yes, arm warmers, might look like more of a fag but arm warmers for sure!!
Where is my AHTBM shake weight?
I liked it better in the days when the only called us “fag.”
I have, however, always wished for a 10 foot tall leatherman/bear super hero dressed such as the gentleman above, who’d swoop out of the sky, pull people from their cars, and beat the shit out of them on our behalf.
Whenever someone equates fag with weak there should be a leatherman who comes to the rescue.
I started riding fixed the same year track bikes were invented: 2008. Back then, I couldn’t ride three blocks without someone yelling “fag” at me. The worst is that it mainly came from douche bag bros with full suspension bikes hanging from the backs of their trucks.
Fast forward a couple years, and I was riding my track bike through a park when a kid with a skateboard hollered at me, “is that a fixie?”
I simply nodded, waiting for some sort of homophobic remark, but all the kid did was turn to his friend and said, “that’s the kind of bike I want to get!”
It’s not about acceptance. Fuck acceptance. It’s about holding out and doing what you want the way you want until people realize that they can’t beat you, and decide to join in on the fun.
FAG! It’s not just for Fags anymore.
not sure where this is going either, bear with me.
My personal favorite was the dudes who yelled “Get a car, Faggot!”
I just pour my beer inna dr. pepper can….and I like fags!
I am so Armstronged when single nut is slapping me in the chin,
clogs. i think AHTBM clogs would be awesome.
It’s nice to see that ROB HALFORD is taking better care of himself these days…
Listen to Chicago hardcore band Limp Wrist.