So there I was sitting on the couch in my underpants this morning, enjoying a drinkable strawberry yogurt and vodka cocktail and reading the comments on yesterday's post, when I saw this:
$40 to join the Melbourne group ride? For shame BikeSnobNYC, for shame...
August 15, 2013 at 10:34 PM
Oh, please. I got your shame right here "down under." [Indicates crotch.]
Look, I thought we covered this, but I'll say it one more time:
These people are flying me to the other side of the fucking planet to be a part of this festival (not to mention a bunch of other authors who are coming from who knows where) so if they need to charge people for some shit then that's fine with me.
Deal with it.
And just for that, this person's not even allowed on the ride now, even if they do pay the $40--assuming they even live in Melbourne, which they probably don't. It's probably just someone in Cincinnati or something who doesn't like the idea that I'm charging for a ride they couldn't even go on anyway.
I mean, come on, what's with people? I'm telling you, Jesus Christ and I are getting pretty damn tired of this:
I am going to Australia for your sins after all.
Anyway, having said all that, I'm going to totally rip you people off some more by making today's FREE blog post short. Why will it be short? Well, I'll answer you the same way I answer my seventeen (17) children when they ask me "why," and here goes.
Because. That's why.
Hey, I have better things to do than waste time explaining the world around them, and it beats giving them a whole load of shit about "God" and "Jesus."
They'll figure it all out from YouTube anyway.
All right, fine, if you must know, I'm cutting out early because I need to get to a bike auction near Buffalo:
Where I plan to buy this baby:
I'm assuming the vestigial pennyfarthing wheel is part of some road dampening system, which is why I plan to use this as my dedicated gravel bike.
Then, if I have any money left, I'm going to buy myself a Dick Power:
Mr. Albert is also researching Dick Power, a bike builder and riding coach active in Queens from the 1930s to the 1960s. There are scandals to uncover; in 1951, Mr. Power’s son Richard was executed for a murder he probably did not commit.
Why? Because "Dick Power." What more reason could you possibly need.
Speaking of gravel bikes and my many children, I was in the park yesterday with the only one of my kids I actually like, and he's zipping along on his little safety bicycle as nicely as you please. Now, there's a gravel running track in the park, and sometimes he likes to cut over and ride on it, but this time he comes in off the pavement a little too hot and so his front wheel washes out and he goes down. So as I'm standing over him screaming at him to stop crying and be a man, I realized something:
Holy shit, my three year-old child needs a dedicated gravel bike!
Yes, I'm convinced he'd never have crashed with the right equipment. So companies, are you listening? You need to make a dick break-equipped gravel-specific bike with 12-inch wheels (a "12'er" I believe it's called), preferably with a crabon frame for vertical compliance. (You have to compensate for the stiffness of those short frame tubes.) Of course, a bike you grow out of in six months can't be too expensive, so if the retail price is a penny over $2,500 I'll take my business elsewhere.
Oh, did I mention it should have Di2? Yeah, you can't expect them to operate mechanical shifting systems with their dainty little hands.
In the meantime, I suppose we'll have to visit a custom builder.
And don't try to sell me on one of those department store gravel bikes, because it's not going to cut it:
(Spotted by a reader.)
Please. I bet those tires aren't even tubeless.
Lastly, here's a lesson from the Mormons:
Yeah, nice story and all, but Jesus didn't do shit for you, kid.