Wednesday Is The Loneliest Number

(North Korean potable crabon, via a reader)

Yesterday I mentioned Lululemon and their translucent yoga pants, and if you're looking for continuing coverage of this titillating lack of coverage then you can rest assured that Aries Poon of the Wall Street Journal is all over the story:

I'm obligated by my own immaturity to point out how awesome it would be if Ms. Poon were to marry someone with the surname of Tang and then hyphenate her name.

Anyway, apparently the translucency issue isn't limited to the pants, and Lululemon also let some see-through swimsuits out the door:

In addition to the problem with bright colors bleeding, the company had transparency problems with some colors of swimwear shipped for last spring as well as a subset of light colored pants, Mr. Buss said.

This story just keeps getting sexier and sexier--unless you're a Specialized-lululemon rider, in which case you have to be fearing for your job:

Yes, with the company's stock falling it's only a matter of time before they start making cutbacks, and you have to figure the bike racing team will be the first thing to go.  Alas, the writing is on the wall for this brave band of She-Freds, and it's as clearly legible as a tramp stamp under a pair of sweaty Lululemon yoga pants.  

Meanwhile, in Queens, a cyclist was hit by a van driver in an encounter that was clearly produced by Jerry Bruckheimer:

Kelly says that as he approached a red light at 30th Avenue at a low rate of speed, the van starting veering into the bike lane. "I looked at the guy and said, 'Don't drive into the bike lane.' And I proceeded to move forward, and he did too, and that was when he hit me the first time with the front panel of the van." Kelly says that when the van struck him again, it was "moving slowly, but fast enough that I couldn't get off of it." As he clung to the front of the van, he speculated that the driver "thought I could somehow escape from this. I was yelling for him to stop, and just shouting, but he had to slow down because there was a car in front of us and he would crush me."

Instead the van crushed Kelly's $1,700 bike, and gave him a few scratches. The police arrived after Islas called 911, and interviewed Gustafson, one of the four witnesses who offered to come forward. "[The police] were very matter-of-fact, very quick. It was my understanding that they would pursue the case and try and catch this guy."

Human beings will be horrified by the driver's utter lack of regard for a person's life, and bike dorks will be horrified by the fact that the victim paid $1,700 for a KHS.  Fortunately, there's a picture of the van, so it's only a matter of time before the police apprehend the driver:

Just kidding!

Kelly said he was told it wouldn't be worth their time: "At the end of the questioning, they said that it's not likely that they're gonna be able to get this guy, because the company that owns the this van may or may not give up this driver; they could say it was stolen. So the police said my best option was to try and sue the owner of the van to pay for the property damage, but that may cost more than the bike is worth."

Clearly the NYPD have hit a new low when it comes to laziness and total lack of traffic crime enforcement.  This is turnkey for chrissakes!  How much easier could it be?  The phone number on the back of the van is 718-TO-FIND-PAT!  All you have to do is dial a phone and the whole thing is solved!  This would be like a nine second episode of "Law and Order:"

MCCOY: Someone ran down this cyclist.  Comb the area for clues.

BRISCOE: Wait, there's a phone number.

[Briscoe dials cellphone.]

BRISCOE: Hello, may I speak to Pat?  Yeah, hi Pat, this is Detective Briscoe, NYPD.  Come to jail.  OK, see you soon, bye.

Assholes.

Sometimes in life you feel like a sucker.  Everybody experiences it at one point or another.  Maybe you sign a cellphone contract and find out they tacked on a bunch of extras you didn't want.  Maybe you bought a Specialized bicycle.  Or maybe you appreciated all this bike infrastructure the DOT has been putting in, so you made a point of stopping for lights and being considerate of other road users, but then you realized the NYPD doesn't give a crap about you and none of the mayoral candidates is willing to support the bike lanes anyway so what's the point?  If they're not going to hold up their end of the bargain why should we?

For that matter, why do I even pay to register and insure THE CAR THAT I OWN?  The other day I happened upon this:

So you're telling me all this time I could have been making my own license plates with a Magic Marker and construction paper, and that instead of waiting on line at the DMV I could have just have the kids at my son's nursery school scribble me some shit?  Well, I'm done registering my car as of now, and not only that, but I'm making my own vanity plate:

If you see me run down a cyclist or a pedestrian, just call 1-800-TUF-SHIT.

Of course, some people think the answer to all of this is for cyclists to wear plastic hats, and speaking of helments, BikePortland reports that kitchy plastic novelty cycling hat maker Nutcase is expanding into Europe:

Which prompted a number of uncharacteristically reasonable comments from Portlanders, such as this one:

They don't wear helmets in Europe. Only America is still into helmets, religion, and other things that provide illusions of protection.

That's why I never leave home without a helment, a religious pendant, and a musette full of dental dams.

Anyway, watching Nutcase try to scare Dutch people into wearing plastic watermelons on their heads should be good for a laugh.

Lastly, you'll be pleased to know that Lance Armstrong is making baby steps towards hobnobbing with celebrities again by starting with the ones who are too baked to have any idea what's been going on with him lately:

At this rate he should be ready to tackle Alpe d'Huez again in a couple of decades.