What I Did On My Summer Vacation
by Wildcat Rock Machine, age 6
Also, as I become increasingly old I also find myself becoming increasingly disinterested in looking at pictures of special bike parts and then buying them. In fact, there are only about two Internet "webbing sites" that ever make me want a special bike part, and one of them is All Hail the Black Market. (The other site isn't even about bikes, it's actually about macrame, but it does make me want to put macrame on my bikes.)
One day, I was reading All Hail the Black Market and the guy who writes it was talking about some tires. What he said about them made me want them, so I ordered some and put them on my traveling bike:
(What you're mistaking for bad photography is actually called "sun-mottled.")
Sadly, I don't have ready access to the sorts of mixed-terrain bicycling adventures that the AHTBM guy does, and even if I did I'd fall down and hurt myself almost immediately. Nonetheless, I did take my travel bike with my new fat tires on it to some local mountain bike trails and had myself a very enjoyable time:
(Someone on Twitter said that my valve stem was too long, which made me feel sad for them.)
Also, at another point during my summer vacation I took my hands off the handlebars while riding, which is something that very few people are able to do:
(Don't worry, I'm actually not doing that here, I'd never attempt to use a camera and ride at the same time. Instead I placed the bike on a home trainer and took the photo in an attempt to recreate the stunt.)
Never, ever take your hands off the handlebars, or you will die.
But recreation isn't just about bicycle cycling. It's also about going to the movies, and of course this past weekend marked the end of the summer blockbuster season. As such, I resolved to see a summer blockbuster myself, and as it happens there was one playing that was all about bikes. No, I'm not talking about "Perineum Rash" starring that Jennifer Jason-Leigh kid. I'm talking about "Cipollini Bond--The Movie" starring Mario "Hep B" Cipollini:
At first I thought "Cipollini Bond" was some kind of new denture adhesive made from the Lion King's various and sundry viscous secretions, but in fact it's a promotional video for his new racing bike. The word "tour de force" gets bandied about all too easily these days, but you can rest assured it will never, ever be used to describe a Mario Cipollini film. In fact, "tour de force" is to "Cipollini Bond--The Movie" as "Tour de France" is to the "USA Pro Cycling Challenge." "Cipollini Bond--The Movie" is also filmed entirely on location inside of Mario Cipollini's gigantic ego, and in this cinematic romp Cipo proves once and for all that he is the Tom Danielson of James Bond actors.
The film opens with some villain who may or may not be Mario Cipollini with his hair cleansed of styling products:
He speaks a guttural language and has Asian henchman, which means he probably represents any number of Belgian bike companies who have their products made for them in Taiwan.
Then, we meet the Cipollini Bond:
Note that his enemies have "Little Mario" right in the crosshairs.
We also meet Cipollini Bond's love interest, who may or may not be Cipollini in a wig:
If Cipollini is indeed playing all three roles, then surely you have to go all the way back to Eddie Murphy in "Norbit" to find such ambitious cinematic multitasking.
Like any movie, "Cipollini Bond--The Movie" contains symbolism, but unlike most movies every single symbol represents Mario Cipollini's penis. For example, here's Cipollini Bond examining the label on his penis:
("That's a fine vintage.")
And here's Cipollini Bond cooling his penis in a bucket of ice:
Naturally, Cipollini Bond is suave and well-versed in the twin arts of conversation and seduction:
("The sparkling wine we're drinking came from inside my penis.")
But just as he's about to lead out Little Mario for the final sprint, Cipollini Bond gets an urgent message on his tablet:
("A new photo set has been posted to 'Japanese Girls With Big Shoes!'")
So he leaps into his helicopter and slips on his headset--which, due to his oily skin and oilier hair, immediately pops right off again like a banana clip off of an ice sphere:
Fortunately, after coating himself with sawdust he finally gets the headset to remain in place, just as Dr. BadTeeth blows up the Cipollini Bond secret sex compound:
By the way, most actors would fall back on a stuntman, but Mario Cipollini does all his own flying:
We know this because the helicopter spends an hour and a half crying in the shower afterwards.
Next, Cipollini Bond dons his dinner jacket:
And further runs up the film's vehicle rental budget by getting into a Porsche:
Which he drives to some jewelry store:
Where a woman hands him the "secret:"
The "secret," evidently, is the answer to the riddle, "What's long, hard, and made of crabon?"
After obtaining the secret, Cipollini Bond spends a little time fondling his Cipollini in the dark:
And then bursts into the daylight dressed like an unctuously-coiffed sperm:
So Dr. BadTeeth dispenses his henchmen:
But sending motorcycles after a Cipollini bicycle is like sending a canary to a cockfight, and Cipollini Bond rides through traffic in a way that makes Gordon Joseph-Levine in "Premium Rush" look like Sean Connery in "Finding Forrester:"
Naturally, the motorcyclists get stuck in traffic that even the Beautiful Godzilla on the cellphone is able to clear:
While Cipollini narrowly avoids getting hit by a bus (assuming you consider 20 feet to be "narrow"):
By the time Cipollini Bond gets to the speedboat (obviously there was going to be a speedboat), he's powering the bicycle entirely with his crotch:
Then Cipollini Bond makes a deft transition:
And successfully captains the speedboat with one hand while fondling his accomplice with the other:
Meanwhile, the motorcyclists make the universal signal for "drat!"
Safe in international waters, the accomplice resumes tanning:
While Cipollini Bond finds a nice spot to drop anchor:
And then they start swabbing the deck:
Obviously, after a movie this powerful you stick around to read the credits, and while I was impressed by the acting of both Mansoure and Mustafa:
The real revelation here was director Max Barbot:
Who manages to hit the cinematic "sweet spot" between hip-hop music video and all-out porn, and whose directorial style is almost as "maniacal" as the Italian craftsmen who make the Cipollini bikes:
If you need me, I'll be crying in the shower.