Tanner, who was one of the folks behind this fit of madness writes;

"My brother and I made some PBR fenders over the weekend. We used some Planet Bike 700c full cover fenders, lots of PBR cans, rivets and some Leinies Fireside Nut Brown to help keep us creative."

They say necessity is the mother of invention, right? Necessity and Fireside Nut brown I guess.

And speaking of which, Keith C-E sent this clip in, and judging by the horse cackle in the background, not only was necessity partially responsible for this little slice of horror, but I suspect several packs of Pall Mall straights were somehow involved as well;

He then sent this link for The Beez that if I dont miss my guess, has Lance Mountain, Neil Blender, Simon Woodstock and John Lucero sitting somewhere, smiling.

Heres another clip that a few folks have sent on, that I suspect somehow or another we all can relate to;

I think it's safe to assume that Bob most definitely can;

"Yo Stevil,

Faced with the "in between season", the night before thanksgiving (biggest party night of the year), and a sixtel of tasty beer, my friends and I put together a relay of sorts.

check out the page here (bunch of dudes on bikes drinking beers and racing bikes) --> Two of the guys I ride (i.e. drink) with are veterinarians. they actually went back to the office and stitched up the one guys knee.

there's also a short blog entry here.

and of course our run in with the PO-leece.

that should be enough to work your word-smith magic. feel free to cut and paste how you see fit.

rock on

-bob"

Word-smith magic, huh? I gotta say that I think you kinda pulled the rug from beneath me on that one.
You supplied all of the wordsmithmagishery that was needed.

That is except for "wordsmithmagishery". I'll take credit for that one.

Jim from The Unholy Rouleur got ahold of us with a whole bunch of his own particular brand of magishery;

I really don't know what to attach as a modifier to Thanksgiving. Christmas is "Merry" or "Joyous," Easter is "Happy," and July 4th is "Call 9/11, Daddy just passed out on the grill*"
So you're getting my Beneficent Thanksgiving wishes, and you'll like it.

Important news: a new cocktail featuring... wait for it...

NO! NOT BACON!

But bacon grease, which we all know is the distilled soul of bacon, kind of like how a pound of crystal meth is the distilled soul of the Hell's Angels.

It sounds tasty, but on the advice of medical, legal, and voodoo counsel, I'm going to skip it. Seriously. The pants are tight enough and if you combined bacon with bourbon, two of my favorite pastimes, I'd wind up a fat, out of control drunk with clotted arteries.

Hey wait a minute...

Not only does that cocktail involve bacon, but it has ties to Portland, so it's got at least two of your favorite things, and when you take into account the wildness you'll get up to after about six of them, it really includes at least three of them.

Double bonus link - Mud and Cowbell's vid of the Golden, CO 45+ cross race. Comments from a good buddy on my club who is a rising masters racer (probably moving to the elites next year): 1) They don't appear to use tape; 2) They are moving really
slow; 3) The course doesn't look at all technical.

But don't knock it - that's how they roll in Boulder! (FWIW, our local cross scene is very hotly contested and pretty well attended).

Seriously tho Stevil, have a very merry National Man Day. You've provided me with a lot of laughs and bummer life avoidance, and for that I'm truly grateful.

That, and the recipe for a salad / egg / cereal / change bowl made of bacon.

Jim"

Firstly I'll mention that Hurl and I have shared a similar concoction at Las Vegas's Double Down bar, and as much as I enjoy sharing some cocktails and a bit of bromance with Hurl, if I never drink a drink with bacon grease in it again, it might very well be too soon. Secondly, and certainly with no disrespect to Jim's buddy, if the epic crowds in that video are any indication of how seriously they really do take cyclocross on the front range, then I'd say that that I have sorely underestimated this fact, and will yet again have to realign my understanding of the profundity of said seriousness..

Now to mix things up a bit, here's a flyer for our homegirl's birthday who lends us a helping hand over at GWCTOH;

Because she gets busy doing what she does, and she's such a peach and all, we sent her a smattering of gifts to share with all who come out and play this weekend.
As a matter of fact, I spoke with Julie on the phone last weekend and she'd mentioned a certain small and cylindrical gift that I'd included in the package as well.
"I'll bet it's a can of beer" she said she'd told her boyfriend.
I'm afraid Julie knows me like the back of her hand.

Either that or I'm just getting too predictable in my old age.

Here is another flyer for an event that's going down up in Seattle not for a birthday, but to feed some folks who need a little bit of an extra helping hand;

They had me at "plenty of beer at the finish".

Now just to prove that The Bummer Life still can't quite maintain any specific direction, I'll now take the opportunity to display this photo depicting just how The Empire rolls these days;

Never let it be said that I can still maintain a thought for more than a few seconds at a time, but then again, I guess thats why I get paid the big bucks.

Now there are just a couple more items of attention. The first being a reminder for any of you all in the Bay Area who wanna get all rad and stuff, there is the continuation of the North Bay series;

and secondly, based on a recent email communication with a couple of my bigger friends, I was inspired to take a moment to pay tribute to some of these folks who remind us all that you don't have to be a 140 pound nimrod to race bicycles;

In Loudass's case, you only have to be a 300 pound nimrod to race bicycles, as proven by this shot taken by CX Magazine's ace photog Andrew Yee. More of his eye's fruit can be found on their Flickr page.

And Loudass's new BFF, Jim, shot by Bruce Buckley;

Any listing of big folks with big hearts that can ride the hell out of some bikes when they want to wouldn't be complete without mentioning Dennis;

...Dennis, who happens to also be a shining star up in the Pacific Northwest as well;

Of course there is Skotty Pawz, who actually is responsible for a good many of these photos;

And our big man, Steve P;

Of course, being 'big' doesn't just mean on the rotund side, but we've got a good many friends that are carrying around extra weight just due to their altitude.
Like Sasha the giant drunk Russian, for example;

Or Curtis;

Or Dean (It should be noted the man behind Dean is six feet tall, which makes Dean somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve feet high and rising.)

And last but not least, the light of our life, our own 6'7";

This is by no means to be considered a complete list of the biggies who get down on two wheels, but for now, it is just a list of a few of our favorites.

So here's to you all, who drag around the extra height, or width, or in some cases both.
You guys make me feel like a one of those 140 pound nimrods, and at this stage in the game, I'll take as much of that as I can get.

Like I always say, It's Wednesday today. You know what to do.

Or this image that Cary sent, which is safe for work, because he lifted it from The New Yorker;

That's the holiday spirit.
..Well, that and trampling folks at Walmart.

I'm also thankful for this image (also apparently at Walmart) that Nat sent, as well as the site from which it was taken.

Yep, I love it when folk give me stuff...

We hope everybody had a restful few days away from the salt mines. I snuck back into the warehouse for a little while on Friday, just because I'm a stand up guy, but other than that, I was like a shadow.
Lots of eating, lots of bike riding, lots of sleeping, and a hell of a lot of SpongeBob.
I used to not care for him that much, but have since seen the error of my ways.

Anyway, at one point over the mini-vacation, a bunch of peeps from every direction converged on a single location, with the express purtpose to try out the freshly rained on dirt.
It was loamy, and tacky, and sticky, and all of the other prime adjectives one might use when describing the ultimate in trail riding conditions, but not before we attempted to get in some quality pre-ride stretching, which Complayna just wont allow;

Despite the interruption, we continued on with our ride in a formation so tight, that the Blue Angels would have been green with envy;

As a matter of fact, due to the symmetry of the group, I repeatedly half-way expected everyone to break out in a Partridge Family tune.

I also got an email from Brady;

"I went to Boston for the holiday to visit my sister and her bf. Apparently New England has these things called 'Blue Laws' (not to be confused with the notoriously uncomfortable 'blue balls'), one of which makes it illegal for grocery stores to be open on major holidays, such as Thanksgiving. Long story short, we had leftovers for dinner, but not before trekking all over the city trying to find a store that was open. On the journey, I found this in the subway and I thought you would like to know about it:

I was kind of disappointed that there were no rainbows in conjunction with the image, I'm sure that of all organizations the Museum of Science would be able to make that happen.

Brady"

Well, now that you mention it, I've got your rainbow right here. As it turns out a rainbow isn't actually light refracting through water particles, but in reality is the result of a nefarious government conspiracy, as proven by the crazy lady and her video camera;

Anyway, alot of good stuff went down on this end over the weekend.
I even got the opportunity to trim out our office a little bit more;

Anybody is welcome to come and test your mettle, you just gotta bring your own ride. I've got a top secret hop-up kit in mine, and I'm not about to share.

However, arguably the highlight of the weekend was making it up to San Francisco for the Pilarcitos cross race, in which I was determined to apply everything I've learned these last six months or so about just how serious cross racing is.
As a matter of fact, this event took it to a whole new level, as one 18th place sad sack A racer exclaimed to me in an effeminate shriek, as he was attempting to pass in an entirely impassable area "You're supposed to move! You're ruining the race for everybody!" Four feet later the trail opened up and he moved around me as I reminded him that this was a bicycle race, and if he wanted to have an aneurysm while recreating, he should take up R.C. car racing.

Really, the only one present at the event who ever is worth a damn is Loudass;

Anyway, tightassed regional mid-pack contenders not withstanding, the race was a blast. I had a horrid start, but kept it together through the bitter end, where I was just in time to celebrate the B-tards efforts by sharing some money and beer with them.
In light of the fact that I still haven't received any photographic evidence from my team of photographers, I have to use this old chestnut of Brad at the same race, two years ago.

Sunday looked mostly like this, but there was less orange, and instead of Brad getting it, Young Hightower was the proud recipient of most of the beer.
A young hipster girl all of about 22 got some off-spray from a can I threw at Loudass's chest, and she stormed away muttering something about 'macho bullshit'.
She stole my heart, that one did.

Anyway, as the sun set, we wound down at Kathleen's house amidst her collection of steeds;

It was a good day, and much like Ice Cube, I didn't even have to use my A.K.

I'd also like to mention that ifin you wanna take a peak at way more photos of Sunday's race, I'll go ahead and present to you Skott Pawz Flickr page.

Then finally, here's one more item of great importance that we give thanks for the oppritunity to have given something to.
See? It's all come full circle, and only on about 45 minutes of sleep.

For the sake of getting this posted now and not wasting any more time, I'm going to wrap it up and bid you all a very happy Monday.

My Magnum P.I. Key Car;

My Chevy Nomad Stomper;

And best of all, my Bigfoot truck, with 4WD, 2WD, forward, reverse, neutral, and working headlights;

And I mean to tell you, I really loved that Bigfoot truck. I brought batteries into work so see if she still ran, which much to my dismay, she didn't.
Last night I took the entire thing apart and cleaned it all out, minding all of the fragile solder points, and gave it another go today. It still will climb over piles of boxes like a little blue mountain goat. I asked Demonika if she thought it would be weird for a grown man to be playing with trucks at the playground, to which she responded "you should probably just play with them in the backyard." She's a smart one, that Demonika is.

But on a whim, I put together a little obstacle course and shot a video so you can experience the radness with me.

Right there at the end, it almost ran over my 9th grade Co2 car, which would have been ok, cause that thing sucked anyway. (It should be noted that I replaced the old video that had the Co2 car in it, with a new one that doesn't, because this one is so much more killer-er.)

I'll also include the advertisement that got it all started for me. If I remember correctly, the little rev, peel out thing at the 16 second mark is really what sold me on this particular item.

I'm thankful for my family, who if I were them, I would have abandoned me a long time ago.

I'm thankful for my friends.-
Many of whom you've read about here,
and many of whom have actually been made here.

I'm thankful that I got the opportunity to be the bummer life avoidence mouth piece.
Before I was doing this, I was mad about everything all of the time, but I was always trying very hard to keep things in check, and taking a daily inventory of all of the things that there are to be happy about, though because I was generally lacking the discipline that it takes to constantly remind myself, often times it would slip through the cracks.
Now that I do this, I can't ignore what makes me glad to be alive. I'm forced to acknowledge it all of the time, and that's pretty bad ass.

I'm thankful for our friend Private J.R. Waggle, who used to send meandering emails, but now that he's in boot camp, sends meandering letters containing centerpieces for the Wall of Shame like this;

Theres no need for you to squint and rub your eyes to see it better, as I will bring it closer;

Thats right, Private J.R. Waggle had to write 'I will not talk unless spoken to' one thousand times.
The armed forces are just like the third grade, except everyone is taller.

I'm thankful that Sonoma County has a cross series of their own, and regardless of how big the word 'heckling' is on the flyer, please keep yourself in check. This is cyclocross after all, and should be taken very seriously.

I'm thankful for the best Craigslist posting I've seen since the one that the random girl posted for me, which led to a night of debauchery that would have made Larry Flint blush.

I'm thankful for this image that Marty sent to me;

-and I'm thankful for this clip that Nat sent as well;

I'm thankful for my health, and that this is my backyard;

I'm also thankful for our newest feature here on How To Avoid The Bummer Life, 'The Kaptain's Korner'.
What bits of wisdom do you suppose he has for us today?

"How'd we all get here? How'd this core of folks, over the span of the last ten years and thanks in part to the glory of the internet, get to this point in time? Joined by the love of two wheels and the human engine, and all sprinkled with cheap American beer in cans. I began my research in the bike culture's doppleganger: Rock n Roll.

Children of the 70's mostly, all of us ending up with or without real jobs, but all sharing an unequivocal love of the bike. I wondered this to myself and thought "What would Izzy Stradlin have to say?" so I looked up his Wikipedia page. Izzy says of his childhood: "It was cool growing up there (CD - LaFayette, IN). There's a courthouse (Tippecanoe County Courthouse) and a college (Purdue University), a river (the Wabash) and railroad tracks. It's a small town, so there wasn't much to do. We rode bikes, smoked pot, got into trouble - it was pretty Beavis and Butthead actually."

So I also had to dig a little deeper and find the yang to Izzy's yin and pick up on what Slash had to say: "My big awakening happened when I was fourteen. I'd been trying to get into this older girl's pants for a while, and she finally let me come over to her house. We hung out, smoked some pot and listened to Aerosmith's Rocks. It hit me like a fucking ton of bricks. I sat there listening to it over and over, and totally blew off this girl. I remember riding my bike back to my grandma's house knowing that my life had changed. Now I identified with something."

What are the two constants in these guitar heroes' awakenings? Pot, and bicycles. And suddenly I too am awakened."

Despite the Captain's clean cut appearance;

-my man is a hessian, through and through.

It would be easy to go on and on about how much stuff I'm thankful for, and the fact that the list is such a long one is in itself something else to be thankful for.

I'm jumping out of here and ripping the chord for a few days, so in my absence, I genuinely hope that all of you have a fantastic few days ahead of you, with all of the fixings.

And maybe I shouldn't sign off without saying that I'm thankful for you all as well.

Even though that statement is as true as they come, it was sappy enough that now I gotta go punch myself in the mouth.
.. and then go play with my truck some more.

Now that you know, you can go back here.

At the end of the day however, we only have so much money to direct towards new products every year, so in light of the cutting edge technology that I've personally devised, Im afraid the other submissions might have to sit on the back burner until next year;

The one only known as 'Famous Author' also took time to submit a design, but based on my unwavering love of monkeys, I've decided that this wont end up being one of our new bikes, but rather will actually be the head badge on the new line;

Aside from immersing myself into my new self appointed post of Swobo product manager, I got busy cutting the tubing to length for my new beernet and trying it out for a test run in which I killed a can of beer in right around 15 seconds flat.

I have a sneaking suspicion that before the year is through, my new accessory will lead to some serious hijinx.
And by hijinx I mean barfing.

Speaking of which, (the hijinx, not the barfing) Erik sent us a link for a blog all about two previously unassociated activities, that seem to go together as well as chocolate and peanut butter;

"Might be right up your guys alley. At least it combines two of my favorite things...

Poleriders(dot)blogspot(dot)com

-E.D."

Now in the standard turn of subject matter that if you've been reading The Bummer Life for any length of time, I'm sure you have become accustomed to, Snake Hawk wrote in with a random thought that he felt the need to share;

"JESUS LIZARD!!!

One time, david yow was hanging from a rafter in a kind of small joint. they were playing wheelchair epidemic and he dropped from the rafters right on top of me.

my friend then jumped on him and the 3 of us were in a big gay pile on the floor. then david yow pissed his pants. it got all over my jeans. that was an awesome show.

later,
hawk."

David is truly a consummate performer who only cares about his audience's good time, as proven by this clip that we've showcased here before;

CFO emailed us with thoughts on the epidemic of rampant unprofessionalism that is spreading though the national cyclocross circuit like a damned virus;

"I guess they don’t take ‘Cross seriously in NJ either…At USGP’s no less….."

If this guy knows what's good for him, he'd better not show his face in Boulder, or else he will get a stern talking to.

Hey, lookit what Ben sent to us;

"for the tech savvy alcoholic..."

Thats pretty cool, but then again, I thought it was a lighter.
I guess once again, that proves when it comes to computification, I don't know my ass from a hole in the ground.

Say, did you all notice this weeks header shot? For the first time ever we're using a drawing as opposed to the standard photo which was provided to us by the skilled hands of Chris Koelle.

Thank Chris, and I can only hope now that you've been featured here, you'll be prepared for the parade of attractive woman pushing wheelbarrows full of cash up your driveway.

At the beginning of this post, I mentioned that I sat at a computer all weekend and designed imaginary bikes.
That was a lie.
I also ate some food and took a shower, but beyond that, I excused myself and did a mostly off road, 50 mile cross ride to celebrate the 50 years on earth that our friend Mr. Suzuki has experienced. (I call him 'Mr.' because old people like to be shown that sort of respect.)
I wanted to include a photo of him riding a skateboard back in the day with his creepy little pimp moustache, as that was when we first made one another's acquaintance, but sadly I was unable to procure such an item, so in lieu of that, here's a photo of him riding up the l'Alpe d'Huez looking all jockish and doing his best Pantani.

Happy birthday old man. As I emailed him earlier, even though he's 14 years my senior, he's still able to tear me a new one when he wants to.

Later on in the weekend I ended up with a pretty neat little item which could conceivably draw me even further from the stone age. Its an ION turntable, which if you were smarter than I am, would allow you to record your vinyl records to your computer.
I've waited a long time for such a technology, but as it stands, it looks like I just have ended up with an incredibly expensive paper weight on my desk.

You would have thought that I learned my lesson about technology, but the bells and whistles caught me off guard once again.

If any of you all have any experience with this beast, I'm all ears.
-All ears and nothing in between.

Alrighty then.. I've got some other stuff on deck, but no time to get into it, so we'll part ways and check it out next time around.
As always, we hope you all had a rip-roaring weekend, and can grin and bear it until we get to do the whole thing over again.

But Matt Case is in a very close second;

However Kurtz is coming in late with a stupendous eleventh hours entry of his own;

At this point, it's anybody's game.

Go here to get a taste of the magic.

Ok, now get back to work.

And yes, in light of Wayne's recent head injury, I already read Kevin the riot act about Eric not wearing a helmet, which he assured me has since been rectified.

Then I get one from Jon, full of complements, and reminders that no matter how I try, I'll never be as cool as The Hoff;

"Looks David Hasselhoff can pull off, but you can't.
Hoff in a Speedo and leather jacket is a little obvious, my fav is The Hoff "monkeying" around on the rope swing. By the way, I didn't post regarding your evaluation but suffice to say that your work is witty without pretentiousness, usually makes me laugh out loud, and also goes deeper to shine a light onto the fact that these are just bikes. Family, friends, bicycles, and booze brother. Keep on keepin' on.
Jon"

Truth be told, I'm reasonable certain that I can rock the 70's drug kingpin better than he can.
And youre right.
They are only bicycles...
Unless you live in Boulder.

Then there is this one from Mark.
-And I gotta tell you, this might be my very most favorite thing that I've seen on the internet since my last favorite thing I saw on the internet;

"This is a link to a pretty funny story about a broke man and his beloved drawings. It is an email between him and an electric company regarding his bill.

- Mark"

I want that exchange to be the epitaph on my headstone.

Bill also wrote in with a heads up on some night time cross action that they've been getting into;

"Mr. Stevil,

Never thanked you for the portrait (self?) you drew on my envelope. Please accept this depiction of a PBR Pinata at our local back-yard night-time cross race (around 2:30 in) as my apology and tribute.

Bill"

A night time cross race... That's good.
If one could harness the fits of inspiration that are sent to me here week after week, I swear you could power a big town.
Or a small city...
Or a huge factory that makes girl pants.

Heres one you might like to know about- Some peeps out in Ann Arbor are fixing to get their alleycat on again this year for a good cause;

All the news thats fit to print on this freak out can be found right here.

Heyho, when our boy Ken out in New York isn't busy donning Mexican wrestling masks and taking the suckers to task on the polo court, hes helping to feed the less fortunate as well;

And another in Kansas City with a mind on the same cause;

Then, even though no foods gonna be raised, heres a race coming up this weekend in my old stomping grounds of Oakland, California thats just for the ladies;

Do you like apples?
Well then, how do you like them apples?

This here is a shot of my old friend Toby on a tiny bike next to a tiny truck.

Years ago at an alleycat race, one of the checkpoints included getting a doughnut, and those doughnuts were so delicious that Toby needed to get two. As he descended, one of his two tasty treats began to disintegrate in his hand, spinning him into a well deserved panic. In a last ditch attempt to save his snack, he crashed and broke his jaw.
Hes a trooper, that Toby is.

Well over a month ago, Evan sent an email to me, which I'm just now digging out of my inbox;

"I hope all is well in the world of Stevil these days.

This past weekend was an amazing celebration of the bike, with its culmination in the Night Ride, a critical mass-style ride through the streets of Jacksonville. There were about 300-400 folks, no accidents, a few pissed off drivers and smiles all around. Good times indeed!!

Big ups to Matt from Bike Jax for organizing and putting everything together, he did a fantastic job...

peace and handlebars
evan"

Great work you guys, and I'm sorry to have lagged so badly on getting this posted. As I just emailed another individual, I'm seeming to be a tremendous flake as of late, but I understand theres a cream for that, so I should be in good shape in no time.

Here's a shot that Matt Messenger from up in Seattle sent me that I've been sitting on, waiting for just the right moment.
I think 'just the right moment' is now.

Its like a whimsical world of Unicorns and Blade Runner, and I wanna live there..

Do you all remember this handsome fellow?

It's Matt, and he is wearing a custom 'beernet' helmet made by the skilled hands of Cory, from Dank messenger bags fame.
Well Matt hooked me up with Cory, and to make a long story short, my own beernet helmet showed up to the warehouse on Thursday. It truly is a thing of beauty and I'm sure that the two of us will have a long and blurry future together. A full honeymoon ride report will be forthcoming.
Plus, you can tell how awesome it is by the distant gaze of jealous longing on the face of the cat in the background.

Apparently inspired by the photos I pulled from the musty boxes that my parents sent, Josh dug deep and found a couple of his own to send;

"A couple photos of my brother and me avoiding the bummer life in Albany NY (I live in Boulder now, and take my cycling much more seriously than I did back then), circa 1984, must have been Christmas time, because we were fired up to endure the crap weather with our new rides.

That’s me busting the fat endo on my bro’s bike. He’s popping the wheelie on my purple gt pro performer. Good times..."

Good times indeed. Eddie Fiola would be proud.
Ok, I was gonna try to keep it short, and obviously I haven't done that, so I'll just go ahead and pull the plug now.

By the way, I finally heard back from (name omitted) and she said she had to run Wednesday's post by one of her friends that she works with to make sure that it didn't seem creepy.
I'm gonna totally go find her this weekend and make her buy me cocktails and prove to her that I really am that creepy.

And like a dirty shirt, I'm in a pile on the floor.

Now that we've cleared that up, you should go back here.

It reminded me of a story a friend who used to tend bar at a spot in San Francisco once told me.
I happened to have a whole bunch of large framed drawings hanging in this particular bar, and one afternoon, a handful of folks were sitting around drinking and talking about the work. On a whim my friend began asking them who they thought the work might have been made by when one patron blurted out, "I dont know.. They're probably done by a messenger or something.. Whatever the case, she sure is pissed."

Anyway, shortly after I finished reading The Snob's post, I went down to the corner and protested some gays, stopped by the bar to watch some ultimate fighting, and then returned home to smack the ol' lady around a bit.
By the way, I TOLD you guys that God hated shellfish..

Alright.. another thing that was mentioned to me was that it might be a nice idea if I did five shorter posts a week rather than the standard three big ones. I'd like that idea, however that would leave me with exactly one free evening a week, and frankly, I think the sound of that sucks balls.

There is talk of me possibly moving into a bit more of a marketing position at some point, thereby freeing up days to do 'Bummer Life' stuff, and if that comes to pass, I just might end up going bananas and do two posts a day.

Aside from the emails containing the requested reviews, in the last 48 hours I've gotten about 200 other emails ranging in content from bacon (duh) to requests to advertise on The Bummer Life, which I will share with you now;

"Hello, Stevil!
My name is (ommitted) and I am working with the online marketing team of a major printing company. I'd like to sponsor your blog if I can, via text link ads. Have you ever considered leasing ad space from your blog for text links? How much would you charge for that kind of advertising? I'm looking forward to hearing back from you, Stevil.
Truly,
(name omitted)

My response;

"Hi (name omitted),
Thanks for writing. You know how they say every man has their price? Well, that's true, and mine is like.. a million dollars, unless you're hot, in which case I'd be happy to knock a bit off the top.
If you're interested, let me know.

..Or if you can get me five suits like this...

Stevil"

Surprisingly, she wrote back.

"Hey, Stevil,

I'm always up for a challenge. Should I send you a picture or would that only serve to chip off a couple hundred bucks - depending on your evaluation, of course. Never underestimate a yuppy, Stevil ; )

If I had access to five suits like that, do you suppose I'd be doing online marketing for a living? I'm no Marie Osmond, and neither is Marie Osmond.

(Name omitted)"

To which I crafted a thoughtful and genuine response, in hopes of at least getting lunch bought for me out of the deal, but she never wrote back.
Here I sit in the dank, darkness of the warehouse at 5:30 on a Tuesday night, pining away for this mystery woman who's path I fear I will never cross.

And speaking of cross, Daniel sent on a flyer for a cross series down in the burning half of the Republic of California;

I have a problem with those flyers and that is that there is a retarded amount of information on them to consume. If you're like me and you can't read and don't have any span of attention to speak of, email teamvelocity@cox.net for the specifics.

After literally plowing through years of bummer life avoidance on my own, Captain Dave wrote to me today saying that he recently woke up one morning, struck with the inspiration to contribute to our little web log. I decided that we should start him on a trial basis with a new segment that we will call "The Captains Corner", or maybe if we wanna get super cute "The Kaptains Korner".
So here we go, for the first time ever within the annals of these hallowed pages, the jackassery is about to run even deeper.

"If it made any sense, it wouldn't really be fun, now, would it?

You never get a second chance to make a first impression so, to the uninitiated, I may as well ruin my hole shot right here and now: I like to listen to Rush when I ride my bike. Not when doing laundry, not when buggering the old lady, not when studying, not when partying, but when riding my bike. Does this make sense? Probably not. Do I care? Negatory. But I must bring light to the fact that there's something about Rush, circa Fly By Night to Grace Under Pressure that seems to make a lot of sense to me when astride my steel pony. It could be Geddy's odd timbre, it could be Peart's precision, it could be the belief that Lifeson likes to get loaded and get into fist fights with cops. I don't know.

What I do know is that I like it.

I dare you to put Permanent Waves in your ears on your next ride (of whatever context) and defy me. I like it, and I think it's good for me. I think it might be good for you, too. If that album fails you, try Exit Stage Left. I've hereby joined tubing and mullets and nostalgia and a little bit of "where's anyone that can actually play around here besides Mars Volta and Battles?"

Another facet of a bike/something combo that does NOT work is bikes and hot dogs. Being a native of Chicagoland, I love me a good hot dog. Seriously folks, a Vienna All Beef hot dog done Chicago style is something of greatness. However to mix the two with a bike ride requires great intestinal fortitude.

Sitting on a riverbank watching the lovelies skate by is one thing, turning pedals into a head wind is another. The bile, or "putback" as I've deemed it, makes for the worst taste ever. The taste is so bad that only whiskey or some other strong elixir can remove it from your yap, so you stop. And then you drink too much. And then you puke. And then there's the hot dog flavor again, so you're right back where you started except now your old lady is pissed at you, too.

Ah, cycles. So many cycles."

An appropriate analogy for The Captains musings that Ive used a few times before is that it's not alot unlike staring into the mouth of God.
-Or at least staring into one of God's orifie anyway..

Then sometime later, this showed up from Robert.

Anyhow, Robert's bacon ice cream aside, my mom and dad are currently in the process of relocating, and in doing so, have realized that they have amassed an obscene amount of crap. Sadly, a good portion of this crap happened to be mine, and regardless of the fact that my living situation is impossibly small, a few weeks ago they loaded all of the junk into a friends van, and dumped it into my lap at work.
With the small amount of free time I've had, I began pouring though the contents of boxes that haven't seen the light of day in 20 years.
Along the way, I found two photographs of famed Pentabike draftsman 685, on the very day that we met;

From that fateful day in 1986, we both have been on a steady decline ever since.

Well, this past weekend the good cats from The Soil Saloon pulled it off. A 30 mile adventure though the concrete jungle of San Francisco, linking up every available ribbon of single track that the city has to offer. Needles to say, I was in hiding, but it looked like a blast, and we have to offer up a huge thanks to them for getting off of their well toned asses and organizing an event that will surely go down in history.
Thanks to the lightening quick and hyper professionalism of XP Multimedia, they've even got a video of the debacle already available for your viewing pleasure;

Well played my friends, well played.

Its Wednesday and I do believe that not only did I dot every i and cross every t on todays post, but I think I even used punctuations in all of the places I was supposed to.
This is truly a red letter day in every sense of the word, and now to celebrate, I think that the 75% of me that is a woman and I are going to head home, run a bath with some scented oils, light a few candles and treat ourselves right.

But that probably wont be before we go out to punish our livers and fall down a hill in the darkness.

We really are a match made in Heaven.

and then maybe a couple like this;

I'll see what I can do.

So I suppose my question is this; As an informal mouth piece for Swobo, (with an emphasis on 'mouth') Id really like to know how you all think I am I doing. In what areas, if any, have I personally exceeded expectations, and where have I fallen short? Are there some aspects that you as friends, acquaintances, valued customers, or complete strangers, could identify that could help me do a better job either here on How to Avoid The Bummer Life, or within the confines of the warehouse operation itself?

Think of me as your employee, and its your task to provide me with an annual review of sorts.

Dont worry about hurting my feelings, as I have none, and if I learned anything at all while attending art school, it was how to graciously accept constructive criticism, so let em rip either in the comments, or if you wish, directly to my email.

stevil@swobo.com

I thank you in advance for your insight, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Operators are standing by.

Now then, lets get on with the regularly scheduled nonsense, shall we?

The world is a playground for the woefully underrated Sergio Layos.

Captain Pauls whirlwind appearance has come and gone, and with it, a bunch of cans of beer as well. My man is a died-in-the-wool beer snob, or a beer aficionado rather, but it didnt prevent him from arriving on my doorstep with and 18 pack of Budweiser and a hankering for a bike ride.
We suited up and departed for points unknown, with me on my cross bike and him on his. Once deep into the woods, we drank a whole lot more beer and chatted with folks who passed by and shared their snacks with us.
Eventually we ran into Dan, who was fixing his pedal with a stick;

Later we watched Paul fix a flat, not using a stick;

Then we rode through a series of creeks;

Then we saw a mini van taking a Tyrannosaurus rex to what I assumed to be a birthday party, or maybe soccer practice;

After going home to get cleaned up we went and had cocktails and sang at a Keroke bar;

And after all of that, Paul ran away naked into the darkness screaming something about "the government knows what Im thinking!" and "Sov owes me $12.67!"

..And that was the last we saw of The Captain.

Mail bag time? Yeah... Mail bag time.

Nick writes;

"Great song.. Even better dancing."

I liked it, and I didnt like it all at the same time.
But mostly I liked it.

Hurl sent this one;

I suppose that makes sense. I mean the Pigeons are looking at each other like it does, and if theres one thing I know, its to never question the facial expressions of italian cartoon Pigeons.
Im sure you all would like the full story behind this future Pulitzer Prize winner, so all you gotta do is go here.

Then Peter writes;

"Just thought I'd drop you this sweet pic of our Tuesday evening Poachfest. Ran into the Fairfax Crowd at Joe's, they said they got chased off the mtn at R.R. grade and Hogsback. Word on the streets, or trails as it may be, is that the patrols on tuesday and wednesday are up and about on the frontside of tam especially. Easy pickins' for the man, as the rangers can camp out and watch the lights roll around on the hill.

Anyway, we opted for an undisclosed location, but lets say if you were at the Pelican Inn and just finished a Guiness, for strength of course, and wanted to get to legally get yourself up to Bobcat... We may have ridden that "the wrongway" down that trail...and it was epic.

Note: D.Griffs rockin the unicorn for 1st looser at the 30 30 finale."

Mickeys still not gotten me my jersey, but I expect itll be showing up any day now.

Anyway, no sooner did 'the ink dry' on Peters first email, do I get blasted by a second;

"I just thought I'd share this with you. Many have speculated that an alter-ego of mine is incapable of doing this (attached photo). It has been a fun back and forth with the kids, but at some point said ego was forced to respond with the following:

"There have been some speculations about the Kung Fu Cowboy's ability to kick at such great heights, as well as land upon his own two feet without massive trauma.

Well let the Kung Fu Cowboy (that's right 3rd person referral) assure you all that He can not only almost fully extend his right leg to perform the "flying carcass"(Kung Fu Cowboy's not afraid of yoga), but he can leap like an African jumping frog, and his feet almost always land beneath his Chuck Norris like torso.

Oh and for the naysayers, Kung Fu Cowboy don't use no futoshop!

Hiya,

The Only K.F.C. "

Bruce Lee was famous for his 'Cobra Style', whereas The Kung Fu Cowboy has perfected the 'Redneck Style', which generally results in a broken, bullet riddled washing machine getting dumped in your front yard.

Hey, remember a few weeks ago and I was discussing the wingnuts from Kansas who protest anything and everything somehow related to homosexuality, and that Id mentioned if God does in fact hate fags, that he in all likelihood probably hates alot of other things as well? Well, TinaB sent this bit from Laughing Squid on to us, proving that his hatred is not only limited to fags, pants, belt buckles, shellfish, paperback books, Zebras, crossbows, dynamite, Fred Sanford, bungee jumping, those prank ice cubs with flys in them, softball mitts, Slurpees, wrist rockets, flower pots, snooze buttons, bandanas, and hacky sacks, but he hates signs too.

Yep, God sure hates a bunch of stuff.

Heres a good one from Frank;

"So there is a movement afoot.
Barack Brains(dot)com
Theres a facebook group to petition to get Bad Brains to play the inauguration. Clinton had Fleetwood Mac, now its our generation's turn."

Holy mother of the little baby Jesus, I think thats the best idea Ive heard since the last really, really good idea I heard, and while were on the topic of The Bad Brains, lets check out a video of one of my favorite tunes by them.
Wouldnt you know that its 'Soul Craft'?

Im a day late and a dollar short on this next one from (Pento) Graham;

"I know it's cross season and all but, this thing is insane... "Now after 5 years, we are up to 105 miles and 14,600 ft of climbing."

I got about 4,ooo feet of climbing under my belt on Saturday, and I still feel like napping.
The burning question here is though- Why does that clown have a fanny on the front of his left leg?

Barry writes regarding 'a couple for Friday', which of course are now going to be 'a couple for Monday'.

I immediately wondered if before the mail person delivers that days post, if they ever feel inclined to don a rubber glove.

Say, did you know that Urban Velo Number 10 is about to hit newsstands? Its true, but you can get a virtual peek here.

Its Monday, and were all here together again. Again Id like to thank anyone in advance for helping me along in my review, unless you say mean stuff, but once I dry my tears, I know it will only lend to my serving you better, and at the end of the day, isnt that really all Im here for?
Now get cracking.. those doughnuts arent going to make themselves.