(New Zealand: Now with 30% more zeal than the old Zealand!)
About a thousand or so miles off the coast of this world power is an obscure island nation-state called "Australia." Famous Australians include Paul Hogan:
Yahoo Serious:
Tour de France winner Cadel Evans:
And I can't really think of anybody else.
Well, as I've mentioned ad nauseum (Latin for "just add vomit"), next week I'm going to Australia, and in particular Melbourne, which is an Australian city where they're having a Melbourne Writers Festival and I'm part of the festivities:
For those of you who will be attending the festival I look forward to seeing you, and as for the rest of you what this means is that I won't be posting from now (well, after this post) until Tuesday, September 3rd, at which point I will resume regular updates--at least until my next trip, but I can't even wrap my head around that at this point since all I can think about right now is how freaking far away Australia is.
Flights this long are like a slow-motion kick in the "pants yabbies."
As for why I won't be posting from Australia, well it's possible I might anyway, but I'm assuming I won't because busy jetlag other excuses blahblahblah.
Oh, I just remembered more famous Australians! Midnight Oil!
(Can you sleep while your bed is burning? Because I can't.)
Wait, is that Midnight Oil? I always get my Australian rock bands confused. Which is the one with the guy who wanked himself to death?
Oh, whatever, I'll figure it out while I'm there.
Oh, more news! As I mentioned awhile back, my most recent book, "Bike Snob Ahoy!" would be the last full-length Bike Snob book, and I qualified that because the little period at the end of the trilogy of books I have writ is this "Bike Snob Journal," available as of...now!
This journal from blogger and cyclist BikeSnobNYC features tips, tricks, and rules for the road alongside classic cycling wisdom from famous bike lovers. With plenty of space for recording musings while cycling around the city or countryside, the Bike Snob Journal is the perfect addition to any cyclist’s tool kit.
Basically, think of it as a fun book of aphorisms to read on the toilet that also you can write in. I love mine, and I've been using it quite a bit:
Get it at your favorite bookstore, online retailer, cutesy paper store, or wherever fine toilet books that you can write in are sold.
Also, I've hidden the above copy in the New York Public Library on 42nd Street and 5th Avenue and it's yours if you want it:
Here's a clue:
I have no idea if that's enough for you to find the book, but if you're adept at the library sciences and the Dewey Decimal System and all that stuff maybe you can find it--assuming it's still there, that is.
Good luck.
And yeah, no more "Bike Snob" books after this, short and toilety or otherwise, at least for the foreseeable future.
Oh, before I go, further to yesterday's post, it looks like the cyclist that cabbie was trying to ram has a bit of a temper:
“You don’t know what I have up my arm,” he said, pointing to his sleeve and implying that he had a knife to threaten a man who had objected when Olivo kicked a dog, according to authorities.
Yeah, see, this is the "other kind" of messenger--you know, the ones that don't get sponsorships from designer bike clothing companies or featured in moody Vimeo documentaries.
Honestly, though, who hasn't threatened to decapitate someone's entire family at a McDonald's?
You don't come between a man and his McRib.
Anyway, it's too bad people will seize on this to blame the cyclist instead of the driver--who now says his job is "too stressful:"
Mohammed Faysal Himon tells the New York Post that "I need a more suitable job."
Yeah, no shit you do. How about making license plates?
Oh, also, he's changing is story:
He says Tuesday's accident happened after he accelerated to get around a bicyclist who he says pounded on his car and yelled at him.
Oh, really? I thought you accidentally stepped on the gas instead of the brake.
Ah, whatever. We all know how it works: the driver gets to try on as many stories as he wants until he finds one that fits. When I was sideswiped from behind some years back, the driver explained to me with a shrug that "I thought I could get around you." Oopsie! You couldn't. Instead you sent me sprawling on a busy avenue in evening rush-hour traffic. However, what she told the police and the insurance company was that I hit her--because, you know, I make a habit of riding my bicycle into cars in reverse.
As for the messenger pounding on the cab and hitting it, that shouldn't matter. I don't care if the messenger slapped the cabbie across the face with his dick. Whatever happened, the cabbie tried to assault the cyclist with his car, he missed, and he ripped off a woman's legs instead.
I suspect the next story the cabbie tries on for size is that the cyclist threatened him with a weapon and he was merely attempting to run him over in self-defense.
To be honest, I'm still depressed over this story. I'm not sure why. It's not like there aren't a million horrific stories in New York City and beyond to feel miserable about, bike-related and otherwise. I suppose I'm fixed on this one because I can relate to that feeling of being in a new city for the first time, jetlagged and awestruck by the landmarks you've only seen in movies or on TV. Your brain's still at home but your body is in this new place and it's thrillingly surreal. So I can imagine how the victim must have been feeling right before this happened.
It also sticks in my head because I think of how, despite the crazy cab drivers and death threats in McDonald's, New York City is an incredible place. You can have three transcendent experiences on a single subway trip here. The buskers train at Juilliard. I think you have to be pretty detached from life if your eyes don't mist over from the beauty on display at least once every few weeks. But for this person the city will never be that way. It will just be the place where she lost her leg.
SMILEY FACE!!!
Oh, and just because there's beauty here it doesn't mean New York City isn't also a shitshow. Consider this:
A couple of cocktails at the Wythe Hotel led to beers at Mable’s Smokehouse and a nightcap at Post Office, a dive-like whiskey bar. After four or five drinks, they undocked a pair of blue bikes and rode home over the Williamsburg Bridge.
As usual, Shawn sped ahead, and as they ascended over the East River, he turned around to see where his girlfriend was. That’s when he lost his balance, kicked his foot into a bridge railing and broke his toe.
Cat 6-ing your girlfriend on a Citi Bike on the Williamsburg bridge and then crashing into a railing and breaking your toe?
Now that's just pathetic.
And with that, I conclude my broadcast day. I look forward to meeting some of you in Melbourne, and as for the rest of you, what can I tell you? You're on your own. So ride safe, enjoy the rest of summer, and I look forward to "seeing" you again on Tuesday, September 3rd.
Your's Truely,
--Wildcat Rock Machine
351 comments:
«Oldest ‹Older 201 – 351 of 351Is it 200 or new page.
Shit I'll take third thenz.
Fucking vacation podiums can be confuzings.
RObot shittre: butuacy 10
WTF happened to Mylie Cyrus? I know no one cares but WTF? Billy Ray is probably so sad.
Wow, checking in after a hi-larious weekend of riding. Wow, just wow.
Let me quote someone who was actually intelligent:
“Man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority;
Most ignorant of what he’s most assur’d,
His glassy essence, - like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep.”
OK, So what is NJ state cultural representative Jon Bon Jovi saying?
We've got each other and that's a lot
For love - well give it a shot
Whooah, we're half way there
Livin on a prayer
Take my hand and we'll make it - I swear
Livin on a prayer
Livin on a prayer is about a working class couple struggling to get by in tough times, and relying on LOVE and RELIGION for strength.
What is the goat saying?
Well, I think it's pretty obvious what the goat is saying, but I have spent some time talking to goats while tripping face, so allow me to translate:
BULL SHIT
BONJ OVI!
half way there? To what? Afterlife? Natural Selection at work. Societies with this value more likely to raise children to adulthood, not kill themselves.
Livin on a prayer
Prayer is a key feature of Yahweh religions that keeps workers believing suffering is noble.
I'm sure you can see see how successfully the message is tailored toward the poor and uneducated.
I wish there was a "History of Yahweh Religions in 10 minutes" video on the youtoobz. It's not all twerkin' videos on there.
History of English Language in 10 minutest
What is language if not communication technology that evolves to suit it's environment. I started the vid at a dick joke, and leading into the British Empire. Which is kinda relevent when you want to laugh at australians.
CJ, tldnr x 4.
When your word count in the comments exceeds the author's in the body of the post, it is indeed time to start your own blog, cunt.
That was really kind of touching. I am getting Ramotional.
Happy Birthday, Zoots.
Congrats on your epic ride.
Yes Zoots, that was epic!
Mcfly, I will see your church fart and raise you a sermon snoring.
Leroy, did The Dog conjure up some lobster? Not the Seinfeld Kramerish way, but something like smooth talking them out of the water and into the pot? I hear it's lots less bother that way.
Babs,
that's was a perfect way to start a monday morning!! thanks... now if you'll excuse me, i'll be taking you (on my biggest screen) to a private area to smack each side once to decorate that lily with primitive man's fi(r)st art work.
why did CJ's goat leave him???
because he would not stop singing:
Because I'm Baaad, I'm Baaad-
Come On
(Baaad Bad-Really, Really Baaad)
You Know I'm Bad, I'm Baaad-
You Know It
(Baaad Bad-Really, Really Baaad)
You Know I'm Baaad, I'm Bad-
Come On, You Know
(Bad Bad-Really, Really Baaad)
And The Whole World Has To
Answer Right Now
Just To Tell You Once Again,
Who's Baaaaaaaaad . . .
whyle doggie (goatie) styling it.
The Road Queen adds Moutain Bikes to the list of things she likes to ride.
Happy Birthday Zoots.
Hope it was the best.
Happy Birthday Zoots.
Christ with all the birthday posts around here it's like damn facebook. Hellofalot funnier though.
Wishiwasmerckx,
I want to share a story about how a "Link text t-shirt helped me bone a very sweet Belgian school teacher. I am totally making this story up to piss you off.
I'm in a cheap hostel near the water in Luang Prabang, getting breakfast. Olive complexion, mid thirties, lean yet healthy "Your T-shirt. What does mean?"
I want to tell her it's a joke shirt. In the way people idolize Che, without understanding his values, and in fact having completely contradictory values, many LANCE roadies idolize Merckx. But, I could tell from her accent, and just the fact she talked to me about it, she was Belgian, so I said I like bikes. Merckx could climb, he could sprint, he could descend, and he did it with power and grace. He makes suffering look dignified, noble.
We shared a meal and delightful conversation; travel, where we'd been, where we're going. She had 2 months paid leave every year, I was taking unpaid, at cost to my perceived loyalty. Talked about bhuddism. It's a UNESCO world heritage site with tons of temples, population is prolly 50% monks. We went on our separate ways. French architecture and food is lovely. They have a certain kind of utility tricycle wagon I have never seen anywhere else. I watched an old man who couldn't weigh more than 90 lbs pedal a big load of bricks wearing flipflops on bare pedal spindles. Most of these things had bare pedal spindles. I thought of an overweight LANCE in crabon soled ballarina shoes slipping on some spilt coffee, busting his spando ass. I think about fate, and how chance decides to large degree people's lot in life. I think about how much more contented the old lao seems to me, despite his unconventional pedal footwear interface. I think about a LANCE riding to Bear Mtn, feeling a sense of suffering and accomplishment, but really feeling better than others who are not so strong, do not value suffering as they do. Then I think what if the LANCE dropped a muffin with a hair in it, when he busted his ass? And by dropping the muffin actually made his day a little bit better because he got a new, clean muffin, that didn't have a hair, and I just start laughing....
GOAT GUNZ
Some other shit happened, but let's get to Phnenom Penh where I run into her again. I go to Tuol Sleng genocide museum, one of Pol Pot's internment camps. It's in a school in the city. They just bricked in cells in the class rooms, and walls to connect the buildings around the quad. About 10,000 people a year at it's peak, were held, starved, tortured, interrogated, executed. There was a lot of torture stuff that was gruesome, but most haunting were the photographs of the victims..so young mostly, some old too, men, women, no names, just numbers.
I was struck, too, by interviews of the guards that had slaughtered hundreds with clubs. I was a child. I was doing what was expected of me.
I wished I never went there. When I looked at an old man, I thought, is he old enough? Did he do those things? I couldn't stop thinking about what compels man to such ruthlessness and conformity. Rwanda, Cambodia, Auschawitz, Conquistadores, Manifest Destiny, on, and on, it's all rather depressing.
I took a cab, and the driver said "SEXY GIRL" I said, no. "Guns? AK47! 50 CAL! Machine gun noise!"
I said no, and told him where I wanted to go. Then I start thinkin..
When am I ever gonna get a chance to shoot a 50 cal again? I ask the buddy "Gun range? How much?" It's about 3X as much as I typically spend in a day for food/transit/shelter/entertainment. I talk him down to 2X, and we go to the range.
Now, I'm a city boy(or upstate, depending on perspective), and am not into guns. I shot my grampa's 22 a couple of times as a kid.
AK was fun, but the 50 CAL WAS AWESOME!!!! I don't think you can understand gun control unless you understand their appeal, and how they work.
Afterwards, they asked the group of us there, "RPG? GRENADE?"
A russian guy and a german both got excited. Both looked like "bad guys", facial scars, seedy tattoos, gold chains outside of clothing.
They both shot grenades at old goats. The goats were too old for milk, and the price the men paid was far more than the price of a healthy goat and the grenade. They paid quite a bit more to blow up the old goats. I didn't watch.
I really was not feeling too hot after all that, but I had a raging bonar, prolly from the 50 cal. I read in the Lonely Planet about a wild and hedonistic nightlife spot. I was just been tubing on the Mekong, where they had bars with progressively higher diving boards, rope swings, zip lines, as you got further down the river, and progressively more hammered. The bars served hamburgers and played Friends on the tele. Set up for Aussies to get belligerent and primal when no ones looking. One of the reasons I like Aussies, beyond them usually being some blend of Sir Anthony Hopkins in the world's fastest indian, a cali surfer bro, an affable drunk who loves to take the piss, and crocodile dundee, is that the are the most primal of the anglo descendents of the british colonies. Diamond explains it in his book: isolation and poor natural resources. It was HILAROUS watching obscenely drunk bogans bellyflop from 20ft and hurt themselves. Anyways, I figured this wild nightlife would be shitfaced aussie girls. I should have known better, it's SE Asia.
......
MONKEY GOAT
Che Merckx T shirt that facilitated congress with the Belgian teacher
Maybe it's time for a Twitteresque 140 characters or less mandate?
Like so:
Had some action ABS at the river yesterday. Whats ABS? Accidental Boob Sighting.
*ABS action that is.
Happy Birthday Zoots.
Oh! Now I get it.
New page!
You were probably wondering why I was obsessed with Zoots' birthday. It wasn't showing up and I thought it was some interwebs malfunction.
Sorry about that.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZOOTS!
MUAH-MUAH!
Birthday kisses, I wish you the best of birthdays!
CJ: at what point do you meet back up with the Belgian lass? I'm on the edge of my seat here.
McFly: Her accident, or yours?
Hunnys friend had swam out from shore for a boat pickup and was having trouble getting on the lil rear platform so she reached up for a hand boost with both feet on it. MIGHTY TORQUE + OLD BATHING SUIT TOP = FREE TITTY SHOT!!!
I had both hands gripped and was reluctant to let go but it was getting awkward.
I wish these comments had a 140 character limit. It might limit some of the characters here.
Happy Monday?
Thanks for the post Babs.
May I suggest a smaller hat?
Thanks.
Happy Birthday, Zoots, and congrats on the ride, but you're making my legs hurt.
Thankses errybodys.
Now I am finding a job this week.
BUt the bicycle cycling is soooooo much more fun.
THe food cost money though and the fridge is looking pitiful.
Salt mine and all that...
Dood, really should proof read these things, speelcheck, make sure links work, that I don't forget funny shit.
When I saw the old lao in flip flops on his smugness flotilla, schlepping his load of bricks, I said:
Do a pop a wheelie!
He smiled, gave me a thumbs up, and said OOOO KKKK. It was very zen.
Also, there were surburnt Brits hurting themselves. One lass with particularly unfortunate tattoos, and really should not have been wearing a bikini, got spun off this zip line, sommersaulting spectularly. Everyone was in tears, until they realized she was quite badly injured. Her top fell off, too. God, I wish I could remember the colloquial phase she was yelling.
SPOILER ALERT!!! Are you crappin me? Chris Horner is in the Red Jersey at the Vuelta? Good thing that jersey has a zipper or his big head would stretch the neck hole out.
There is nothing like an A.B.S. This particular lass finds herself at that station in life where women are most vulnerable. 40+, divorced, 2 kids and still hot and horny. I have no personal experience but I hear they get right to the point.
I had an asphalt levee path ride with my wife on Saturday that turned Epic. Me on the old steel road cycling bike and her on her old steel mountaining cycle (with Michelin street tires).
First, we found out that the trail at the levee trailhead where we parked did not meet up with the longer levee trail that I wanted to ride, which goes under the interstate bridge. Instead of driving over to other trailhead, we decided to ride. At the point where we needed to get off the levee trail to cross the interstate, there was no exit, so I started down the 30'-high slope. My wife thought that my rims would crumple like Al foil, but like we've all learned from Tom Ritchey, these road bikes are (were?) pretty tough.
We continued through the suburban strip mall wasteland to the interstate overpass and headed toward the other trailhead. Traffic was heavy on the outer road due to the recent opening of a huge outlet mall. After riding through the rear drive of the outlet mall, watching the smokers smoke, we got on the levee path. Yay!
We made our way west toward the bridge. At the ball fields, we stopped in to see if our neighbors' kid was playing, since he had a game that afternoon. He wasn't. We continued the couple of flat miles toward the bridge but, alas, the trail was closed before the bridge due to construction of a new span.
With no alternate routes under the interstate bridge and the only legal way across the interstate being a couple of miles behind us, I decided we could go hop on the short flyover entrance ramp back to the south side of the highway. Another ride down the levee slope to the gravel construction staging area and we were at the ramp. Riding up the shoulder was fine and there was plenty of room until the shoulder turned to gravel and then disappeared at the actual overpass. We waited for a break in traffic and sprinted across the overpass and made it with no honks!
We then snaked our way toward the levee path on the other side of the bridge closure, which brought us into the extra-heavy traffic for the other huge outlet mall that opened the day before. (I’m here to tell you that people going to an outlet mall never text and drive or talk on cell phones.) We locked up the cycles and walked around the outlet mall and felt like tourists. Bass had buy 1 pair of shoes, get 2 free! Of course the outlet mall doesn’t have any access to the levee trail that it is adjacent to. So, we hopped the curb and went overland, once again. The newly graded soil against the curb was really loose, and my front wheel didn’t like this. The bike stopped, I clipped out of the left pedal and fell to the right. My wife laughed.
Back on the levee trail, we now had about 5 miles of uninterrupted riding. The end of the levee trail is where the levee hits the “bluff.” This dumped us out on a 2-lane road. To get back to the car, we had to go around an airport. Have you ever tried to ride through an airport? – The terrorists have won. The 2-lane road back had no shoulders and was rife with outlet mall heathens. We did stop and buy some local honey, where you just put your $ in a jar and take what you’ve bought. So charming!
Right before we got back to the car we stopped for dinner at Mexican restaurant. The end.
Boy, I need a gravel bike!
anyone else ready for some football?
i have nearly creamed my pants 4 times today just thinking about the UGA vs Clemson game this saturday.
don't worry, i'll ride my bike to the gamewatching party and will proceed to scream obscene-titties at the TV for 4 hours while drinking more bourbon than jack daniels himself.
go DAWGS.
CJ is an insufferable child. I want to break his fingers.
McFly, effen yeah. They are succubuses.
Ok, will stop getting sidetracked and get to the juicy stuff.
I was walking toward the nightlife area, pretty bummed on all the heavy thinking I'd been doing, and thinking a sweet girl would help. Would be so much easier with my dog, down at the lake... I walk by lots of street vendors selling Nike knockoffs. I would not buy $150 nikes normally, but the thought of $30 shoes made in the same factories as the REAL ONES appealed to my hipster sense of irony. Also, I needed new shoes. I only had the pair on my feet and they were we beat. I found a white pair of Jordan III's. I wanted these shoes sooo obad as a kid. Jordan postered Ewing many times in these shoes, but my favorite image of him is the one from the slam dunk competition, from the free throw line, head above the rim. Jordan and Merckx share a similar grace. I have never owned an item of clothing that inspired more black guys to strike up friendly conversation with me. Many of them end up clowning on Patrick Ewing. Beyond basketball, I like to find out where they are from, where they been, where they goin.
I tossed my old shoes in the trash and headed toward the club. Noticed how dirty and crowded the city was, even compared to Bangkok, with garbage forcing you into street, manic traffic, gross puddles. TRYINA KEEP MY SHITS FRESH.
I get to the club. There are prostitutes ouside
Hello sexy man.
You look like james bond.
You look like Brad Pitt.
Where you from?
Always. This is normal for SE Asia. Every club and most bars in every city I'd been to in SEasia had girls outside who told me I looked like James Bond. Or Brad Pitt. Usually both. They are VERY persistant and annoying. Can't a buddy go and shoot pool and try to dance with drunken aussies like a normal buddy without being set up by aggressive whores. They are for those bad men Germans and Russians you see all over.
Eventually, you get tired of no, no, nO, NO, please leave me alone, NO, and it's easier to joke with them.
James Bond? Which one? Sean Connery? Pierce Brosnan?
NO SILLY! JAMES BOND! WHERE YOU FROM?
Steve Tilford prefers Kent Eriksen handmade titanium bicycles.
CJ sounds like he's from Poughkeepsie.
4:20 podiums!!!!
robot shittzo: nsthway 12
SHHHHHHHHIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
Should hve skipped the bonghit.
I really can't_have_it_all.
Robo zones: 10A iplacekO
HEY!
Anonymous 3:42
You ever PICK YOUR FEET IN POUGHKEEPSIE???
nomytf 38 : robot answer
DerZoots, no, just the dingleberries from my arse.
It's a Limp Bizkit kinda day.
@ Anon 3:42
Gene Hackman
The French Connection.
I have to post this:
http://www.joe.ie/sports/random-sports-stuff/video-is-this-the-greatest-overtaking-manoeuvre-in-the-history-of-cycling/
Dang RQ sounds like you need to "tend" to that Bizkit. I personally did about 98.7% of it for the nookie. The other 1.3% was for the laugh.
http://sf.streetsblog.org/2013/08/23/sfbc-finds-what-sfpd-didnt-video-of-crash-that-killed-amelie-le-moullac/
McFly,
It was more like this Limp Bizkit Song
I blew out a Gatorskin on gravel Sunday morning. 3 feet of it. It was at the bottom of a huge downhill where they had repaired the road. I was doing what felt like 77 mph and the section was right in the G-out so I guess I cannot complain.
But I still did.
Anyone hear from Snob yet?
I'm just waiting for the screaming goat compilation from this year's VMA.
Oh, and yes, more important, JB and McFly, sounds like awesome rides.
Goofy tiller effect
Hey McFly, That'll teach ya! You better go get a gravel bike.
Gorka Verdugo in 67th Place on the GC at the Vuelta de Spaintonia!
Gorka Verdugo!!!!!!!
What's up with the goats, man?
I don't know. I saw them and thought they were funny. In Snob's absence it may have given us something to distract us. Goats screaming at moronic cycling stuff, dim bulb pedestrians, wacko motorists, etc. I'll give myself one screaming goat for bringing it up.
Youz guyz comes to Clarksville Saturday and do the Sunrise Century with me. Only 66 ft of elemevation in 100 miles. It's advertised as FLATTER THAN A FEMALE VOLLEYBALL TEAM. I have not roden that fer since like March. But it's flat. Kansas flat. Ironing board flat. It's nothing to average 22-24 for the 1st 50 miles. Then drop drastically because we suck.
4:20 Podiuns
YEAH TODAY IS THR EDAY!
WEEEDZZZZZ
Robot stopper word puzzle graphic zone: jsugHtl 34A
I CAN HAVE IT ALL!
Bong hits too.
Made the most of the minute.
Jeahhhhhhhhhhhhh
Word Game Robots Dislikes: 723 eriztio
Flatter than a female volleyball team? Any sport where cameltoe is an official part of the uniform is a-o-k with me.
I suppose the 66 foot mound we crest could be the camel toe. I'm cool with it.
Riding a bike in New York was just that: riding a bike in New York, no big deal, But then it became an issue caused,not by the bike lobby, but by the Taxi & Limousine Commission. With more cyclists came more accidents; accidents which had a disproportionate number of taxis involved, so in steps the taxi lobby to influence the media into portraying cyclists as the scourge of the city's streets.
Did you know that a hack license, the license issued to cab drivers, is easier to obtain than a motor vehicle license? There are large numbers of inexperienced drivers behind the wheels of NYC cabs, like that guy who maimed that innocent bystander.
I go into the night club. It's darkly lit with fog machines, strobe lights, packed dance floor, busy bar and pool tables. I go the pool tables and survey the scene. There is a diverse mix of travelers shooting. I look around for an Aussie or Kiwi to tease about koalas and make chums with.
I check out the dance floor. Tons of cute cambodian girls dancing. They're dressed more conservatively than western club goers. I notice there are no drunk aussie girls ripping each others top off. Then I notice there are no men on the dance floor. This is not a nightclub. I feel sick to my stomach.
An expensively dressed black man compliments me on my Jordans. He's african, I don't know african accents well enough to place him. I point to a group of girls that look particularly young, and ask him how old he thinks they are?
He looks at me like I'm a freak, and turns back to his game.
One of the girls I pointed at, approaches me, "sexy man, you want dance"
I tell her no, a few times before she leaves. I look around at the men playing pool a second time, more closely this time. Sure, some of them have physical deformities, and you really can't fault them, but many of them are pretty good lucking guys.
I look at the girls dancing again, this time, careful not to look at anyone too long. There's a thing you do with your eyelid to say no.
I wondered where these girls came from. The city, the country? Did their families trade them? How much money did they get? How much did they send home. I notice some that look terribly sad, but others that look like they are dancing with their girlfriends, having a good time. I hold my glance on a girl that looks particularly sweet to me. She sees me, and I look away. I get the fuck out of there.
I go to a normal bar across the street. There are no aussies here to talk to, either. I get a scotch and soda. I'd normally drink bourbon, but Jack Daniels is 2X as much as Walker Black. I'm getting used to it, and don't get it with Coke anymore.
An older white guy, J. Crew Nantucket look, sitting nearby says "Nice Jordans, how much did you pay?" $30 "You got ripped off, no more than $10". I can tell right away he's from NY, so after we make fun of Patrick Ewing for awhile, we talk about pizza and delis.
I am getting back to the Belgian school teacher eventually.
NY buddy is 60ish, linen shirt, khaki shorts, dock shoes. He's got his shirt open, and I can see a thin chain, but not what on it. He's not wearing an undershirt or socks, and I bet he's goin commando. An older, but attractive whore is sitting on his lap.
He's an expat, made his money in finance, got divorced after the kids were mostly grown, moved to SE Asia.
I am disgusted by this man, but am curious what makes him tick.
I ask him what his kids think.
Oh, they give me shit, but I'm their dad. They love me. I give them presents on Christmas AND Hanukkah
I like girls with softball butts. You know the ones. Thickish. That's all I got.
Too bad you're in the flat lands McFly. Skier chicks got back.
Suck my dirty poop tube
Suck my dirty poop tube
Will they grip a pole tightly when things get a little bumpy? 2 poles even? I may have to relocate.
Welp, seems the comments section has kinda reached a stalling point.
Side note, Mountain Biking is the shizzle. Road Biking is now meh, comparatively.
Just my .02
Wish I could join you this weekend, McFly. Sounds like fun.
I'm entertaining my 88 year old father. Going to make him a Manhattan, put on some football, wait for him to fall asleep and go for my own ride.
Good on ya DB. My father lives 2 blocks from me and we are estranged. He has alot of anger and resentment from divorces and such. He's what you call a rageaholic I believe. 1st 2 marriages ended with him pulling a gun.
I do like the MTB RQ but it seems always involve a drive and more time than roding. I like em both with equality but felt the same way when I 1st MTB'd.
New York city chicks got back from all that yoga...yummy.
Steve Tilford has no problem keeping his blog updated no matter where he travels.
Feel good story of the morning.
I drank with this new yorker my father's age for awhile. He disgusted me, but I guess, it was awhile since I had talked to an american, and much longer a new yorker. He reminded me of home.
He asked me if I was getting one, a girl.
I said of course not, I don't need to pay for girls. I was looking for a normal club with drunk aussies, call them kiwis and wink until they like you.
Bullshit. How many drinks you buy them? $20 worth? That's how much a girl is. He went on this long schpeel about how all women trade sex for money, whether it's three dinners, a diamond ring, goats, or drinks. I thought he was an asshole. I didn't hate him. We liked the same teams. It's hard to hate somebody that roots for the same guys.
I ask him about some doc I saw on the sex trade, human trafficing. He get's pissed off, sensationalism to sell advertising. Of course there are women being exploited, but most do it by choice, as it pays 10X as much a normal job. Most of these girls support their whole families, send their siblings to school. You have to pay for school here.... growing rice and harvesting bamboo doesn't pay tuition.
He starts telling me about his whore. He's kept her privately for 5 years. He tells me about the house, well and toilet he built her family. He tells me she is preternaturally gifted at fellatio. I scoff. Do you want the best blow job you have ever had in your life? I'll share.
I think to myself, that's the first time in my life, I've turned down an offer of head.
The cambodian sez "I been listening. You an asshole!"
New Yorker starts laughing. Me, ChamoisJuice, an asshole? I laugh, too.
This shit is getting too weird, and tell them I'm going to bed, and leave.
I make it a few blocks before I turn around. When I get back to the club, she's still standing with her friends. She saw me come in, and when we meet eyes, she smiles, and comes toward me.
"HI" hey!
She stands on tippy toes, and yells into my ear, "where are you from?"
New york. What? NEW YORK!
What? Too loud in here!
She takes my arm, and leads me outside. It was too loud in there.
Outside, I say New York.
New York City?! Big Apple?
Yes. Well, close. North. I point up. Where you from?
Pnenom Penh! SILLY!
No, before.
She is confused, but eventually gets it
Village. North. She points.
I'm about to ask what she does, before I catch myself. I'm not sure what to say.
I look her over more closely. She's tiny, shorter than 5ft, maybe 85lb-90 lbs. She's quite striking. Her face reminds me of Lucy Liu, broad face, with delicate features spread far apart, but big eyes and square jawline. Her skin is much darker, her nose wider, lips fuller. She's wearing a billowy navy skirt with white polka dots and a tank top.
Shoot pool?
We go to the bar across the street.
"Back so soon, chamoisjuice? I thought you were going to bed?"
I tell the new yorker to go fuck himself, in a friendly NY way, but not really.
Snob is on the Twitter.
Pretty funny.
I miss the little guy.
We played pool doubles. The rules are simliar to how brits play: you don't have to call a ball or pocket, but a scratch gives your opponent two shots. The table is bigger, but the balls are smaller, and the pockets tiny. The side pockets are much more forgiving. The table is warped plywood with thin, ripped felt, like most asian tables. The table favor fast, accurate shots, not deliberate, gentle ones. It's hard to play strategically. I've learned hard backspin, almost always, as there is really no way to tell where the white ball will end up, unless you stop it on the first one you hit.
We play, the boys talk, the girls talk. He buys me another drink, black. I'm a bit better than the NYer, his girl is best, by far, and mine doesn't know how to hold the cue properly. She's too small to reach many of the easy shots. The older one isn't much bigger, but she's a spider on the table. I wonder how long Becky, I think it was, some western name that's easy for them to pronounce, had been doing this.
I go to the bathroom. I am glad that there is no towel boy. Many bathrooms have attendents, but lack proper plumbing, stalls, often sit toilets. I am resentful of these men, it's panhandling, it's makes me feel guilty that they have no better option, while I am relieving myself and just want privacy. Do other men pay them to leave?
The window is open, and I think about climbing out it, french exiting. I stick my head out, it's not high, but over a pile of garbage.
I go back to the game. We lost the first two very quickly, cuz Becky kept scratching. She kept touching the cue ball, not moving it, but touching it. They are serious about scratches in Cambodia. She keeps giving them two shots, without even moving the balls around. This game, is am on a roll. I'm at the perfect level of drunkeness; not thinking too much, confident, not yet sloppy. I win with a long, hard carom. I have found that this level of drunkeness makes me fuck in similar fashion.
Let's go.
We get a motorized tricycle taxi. It's different than tuk tuks, but I couldn't tell you how, after I give the driver the business card and agree on price, we are making out like high schoolers. I am embarrassed about the PDA for a sec, but remember those taxi cab confessions shows on cinemax or hbo.
We get to my hotel. I can tell she's not impressed. It's the cheapest place I could find with a western toilet and no wires that look like they'd kill me taking a leak in the middle of the night. I knock on the window to wake up the boy to let us in. He lets us in, and gives me a look that says typical farang. Farangs are western white men.
The room is not too bad. There is a ceiling fan and the windows have good screens. It's very big, with two small bed set in opposite corners. The walls and ceiling are a bright, glossy royal blue, and the fluroscent bulb flickers harshly. I turn it off.
We strip. I'm glad to get her cheap underwear off. She looks much better without it. Her hair is so glossy and healthy, skin so glowing, and I wonder what her product routine is. We are tender. She puts the condom on deftly. I am worried about hurting her, she's so small. I develop a high cadence, low gearing thing, to prevent harsh bottoming, but I'd rather stand and hammer. She get's on top, and does this crazy thing, where her heels on my hips, one hand is touching herself, I guess the other must be balancing somewhere? She is more aggressive than any woman I've been with. It's hot. She starts going oh, yeah, but the tonality is way off. OYAY OYAY
Afterwards, we lay in the the small bed together, my feet hanging off the end. She plays his my chest hair, and examines all the irregularities on my skin. She does this skiramp nose boop with her finger. She finds a stray gray hair, plucks it and shows me. YOU OLD!
Not that old. I'm thirty-ish. How old are you? I have to ask her again, and she says 26. Too old?
No, that's just right.
I feel relieved that she fits within the half your age plus seven rule.
It's really hot and humid. We are spooning, but I am sweating like a pig, and keep sticking to her. I thought I would cool off after the excercise, but it's just hot.
She takes a shower. I hear a scream. NO HOT WATA!
No, no hot water, sorry. She takes a long shower, and hums a tune. I don't recognize it.
It expect her to get dressed afterward, but she dries off and gets back in bed. She goes to sleep in a bit.
I am still sweating like mad, so I move to the other bed. I don't sleep. I'm afraid my passport, card, camera won't be there in the morning. I read Karen Armstrong's the History of God. I'm drunk and tired, and it's a fairly dry, micro book. It's work.
I have these fantasies about this girl. For the price of one of my bikes, I could significantly change this person's whole family's future. I imagine splitting the year between usa and asia. Maybe I could lead eco-tourism bike trips? YOU FOOL, everyone you know would disown you.
I am too tired to read my serious book anymore, and had just finished my trash book. I drew the girl. It had been a long time since I'd drawn. First few were terrible, but I did one that I though was nice.
I packed my bag, and cleaned my new jordans. I thought about how much to give her. The new yorker said $20, but he was a cheap asshole. But the "good traveler" side of me said you can't be a sucker tourist. I thought about $40, and put $30 on the nightstand.
The sun was up for a few hours before she awoke. I was dressed, in my Che Merckx shirt, same shorts. The shirt matched my shoes. She saw the money, put it in her purse, got dressed. I picked up my bag, and left. She followed me to the front desk to give back my key, and outside. I expected her to leave.
We got breakfast next door. I ordered a western breakfast without looking at the menu. She got soup. Hers was much better than mine. I plate came with a torpedo shaped airy omelette thing, and minuture hot dogs with the ends carved into flowers.
I told her I was going to Ankor Wat. She looked confused. ANKO RWAT. Ruins. Very old city. 8 hours that way. I pointed.
I come with you?
No.
After I paid for the meal, she hugged me, kissed me, and said goodbye. She turned back after a few steps.
Money? For taxi and lunch.
I gave her $5, twice what you'd need.
I expected her to walk out of sight, and get on a bus, but she hailed a moto taxi, hopped on, and was gone, polka dot skirt and inking hair trailing.
I took my bag and started walking. I couldn't go to Ankor Wat today. Visa, bus schedule, dunno. I walked to a nicer hotel I'd seen. I needed air conditioning.
I paid double my previous room, but still cheaper than most places. I cranked the AC, turned the TV on, and passed out.
When I woke up, it was almost dark, and I was very hungry. I walked to the Mekong River to eat at the seafood market. There are 8 stalls there. Each has a cart full of ice and fresh fish, and a bbq cart with open coals and a wok. I'm trying to figure out what people are eating, which lady cooked it, which fish is freshest.
"Hello ChamoisJuice! What a suprise fate has brought us together again!"
Hi Belgian schoolteacher. Is it a suprise? We are travelling the same direction on the same river.
"You're right. You are wearing your Eddie Merckx shirt again!"
What are the chances? I only have 5 tshirts with me. 1 in 5. heh. Are you eating here tonight?
"No. I must save money. There is a nice woman who sells spicy noodle soup for $0.20"
Eat some good fish with me. My treat.
mcfly,
i wish i could join you as well... but we're having this 'bike cult' bicylcling bike show right here in brooklyn this weekend... after which i'm hopping on my bike for a 200 mile ride across the pokanos.
sorry about the grouchiness of your neighbor... i can relate... i haven't really spoken to my geezer for years... and he hasn't divorced once.
enjoy the ride.
CJ's story has really got me...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
CJ,
have you been laid off recently? dude, seriously, you need to get a job, or a life. your comments are getting longer and longer... i doubt a single person on this here board read more than your handle.
sheesh!
CJ, Earnest Hemingway believed that economy with words led to compelling writing. Please allow me to demonstrate:
One time, I went to Chinatown. I got head from an old, toothless Thai whore. It was good.
Turns out it was CJ's mother.
There you go...24 words, and you have an honest story, all the more believable because it is true.
WIWM
Why didn't you get Chinese head in Chinatown? It seems a few more words of background would clear up that type of inconsistency. I am curious. Hoe did you know it was CJ's mom? Did you guys go to school together or grow up in the same neighborhood?
This word economy leads to many questions.
Regards.
Words 4 Robot: 331 Valitat
HAHAHAHA!
Awesome typo.
Correction: How did you know... SMH
RObot Talking COnfusion: 6 ilianEU
No c'mon we gotta hear how the Belgian Schoolteacher got herself jackhammered
YEah I have been reading.
The giving Merckx style is afoot it would seem.
Robto Wrods: 3 tationSk
Good Lord, CJ. Give it a rest.
Geez Babs, would it kill a girl to update her semi-pornographic blogulation during these slow times?
Throw a guy a boner won't cha?
Are you like Smokey and the Bandit and only take your big hat off for ONE reason and one reason only? Personally I would not mind if you kept it on. I like my hats floppy and my women sloppy.
For sale: baby shoes, never worn.
"It was a dark and stormy night..."
Will there be a quiz on CJ's novella tomorrow?
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times...
In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth...
299th...
...and 300th!
One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in his bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug.
"Basically, his problem was finding a way to distill all he had read into something that made sense to others."
WIWM, congrats on the 300 win!
nectutt 300 <---heh! :)
I forgot a throw away line...
after, I was trying to ask the girl questions. There was a language barrier, but we were communicating. She did that ski ramp slide boop, and said, YOU TALK TOO MUCH, hee!
She looked for more gray hairs to pluck.
------
My balls were itchy. It was very hot and humid, and my balls had been itchy for quite awhile, but now I was very aware of it
CJ are you asking me on a date? she teases. Don't get any ideas.
I let her order. She likes to be the expert. She get a bunch of frugal dishes, enough for the both of us.
I was thinking red snapper, but I asked the lady which fish she liked to eat. She pointed out a funny looking, but plainish, smaller fish. Yes, that one.
Do you want a beer?
"I don't drink. You can have one."
She finds a table, I get a beer from a man with an ice box and crate. The ice box has Ankor beer, coke, soda. I get a big beer. That's your beer choice here, big or small. The crate has scotch, expensive stuff, too, rice whiskey, and smokes. Most of the suit wearing cambodians eating have several bottles open.
You got a big one! You must plan to get very drunk! It tastes sort of like rolling rock/Yuenlings/heine, but more potent. I won't be drunk off one.
She talks about Merckx again. Belgium is a small country, and we don't have many heroes. Eddie was the best. There are other Belgians who are good, but Eddie was the best. Everyone knows him and loves him. I liked hearing about it the second time, and probed.
She commented on my white Jordans. Good idea to get white shoes when you will be walking dirt roads, jungles, filthy city streets. I agreed with her, then told her about Michael Jordan. She knew him obviously, so then Ewing, and how I could never like the knicks, despite liking Starks, Oakley, Camby, and Spree. I realized I was boring the shit out of her talking about basketball. I stopped talking.
"You still reading that book?" I had it with me, like I did when I saw her first.
Yes. It's slow. Hard to read hungover, but I didn't say that. Bumpy bus rides.
We talked for a long time. The fish and octopus was fantastic. I milked my beer. English was her third language, and she listened very carefully, often asking me to repeat or rephrase things. She was very smart, and had many challenging ideas, with out being cat 6 one uppy like people are. I liked watching her search for the words she needed to explain her ideas. I noticed she repeated some of my phrases and words, and I made an effort to use useful and funny ones.
I was the best conversation I had had in a long time, and the whole time, my balls are itching, and I can't scratch them
CJ, the J Peterman catalog called, and they are threatening legal action.
CJ: War And Peace is a shorter read. Please hire Martin Amis to edit for you. Short Story: Back in my single days I'm out on a Friday after work. Meet great looking babe in bar. Proceed to her place where adult recreational entertainment insues. Afterwards we're heading off to sleepy bye in the "spoons" position, me facing towards her back. She: "Move your butt back a little". I start thinking "just a while ago it was ok for my Johnson to be in your mouth and vagina", so I answer "why". She: "I'm not comfortable with your, you know, being up against me". Go figure?????
...sounds just like CJ's mom, except for the "great-looking" part, but through beer goggles, who knows? Also, the Johnson was not up the poop shoot, so I guess it mush have been somebody else after all.
Alright, I will finish this stupid story.
We talked about the city. I didn't like it, and would be glad to leave. Even the museum was disappointing. The SE Asian collections in NY are London are much more impressive. She laughed. You will love Ankor Wat. You can't take a whole city away.
We had finished our feast, the sun was setting. I looked at her. She was good looking, but not a great beauty. Her eyes weren't quite symmetric, her nose a bit crooked, her front tooth chipped. She has wild curly hair. I really like her. She looks at me. I can tell she want me to make a move.
OBVIOUSLY, I am very conflicted.
Let's go dancing.
"Is there anywhere to dance in this town? The rough guide said the nightclubs are brothels."
I didn't say anything. I wanted to. I didn't.
Let's go for a walk. I paid, we walked, I led the way.
I stopped at a store to buy a Coke, and more condoms.
We got to my hotel.
CJ! You are getting soft! Look at this place.
It's nothing fancy, less than the cheapest hostel in Luang Prabang. Everything in this city is cheap.
We enter, the front desk guy watches us. We take the stairs. The elevator takes forever.
We're at it in the stairway. She's a bit frantik, but she soothes. I have to check the key chain to remember which room it is.
Inside, the A/C is cranked.
A TV and everything! You are american after all!
TV is a tube set, with the knob you pull out to turn on. The whole room is similar vintage, and looks old, but not worn.
Let's take a shower.
She tells me she hasn't had a hot shower in 6 weeks. I knew this.
We cleaned and degreased each other drivetrains, flossing between cogs and not forgetting the pulley wheels.
We moved to the bed. We trade favors. The condom was a pain to fiddle with as usual. Gentle at first, building feracity. She had a certain desperation sometimes, but mostly it was good, bit of figuring out rhythm.
I rolled a fat spliff. She got very high. I didn't. I give her a massage. I tried out some techniques I had learned getting massage in thailand. She had never dropped the $7 on one, they were new to her. I didn't make it all the way down to her feet.
I lifted her hips cleaned her traditional euro bb shell. Rougher this time. We switch around a few times before settling on ankles ears. I'm holding her head, and I move my hand to her neck.
Choke me.
I do. Both hands. I am careful not to leave fingernail marks. She is not. It takes longer for us to finish than I expected, I was getting worried. I collapse, and she gasps for breathe. It's takes her a few minutes to recover.
That was good. Some men don't do it hard enough. You mean it.
I AM REALLY STARTING TO LIKE THIS GIRL!
We enjoy the a/c. I look at her and think about what my life would be like with her. Belgium citizenship. I think about traveling for a few days to see how it goes. I admire her defined legs. She doesn't shave them. The cambodian didn't either, but she didn't need to. I think about that alot, hating myself. How could you do that?
She wakes me upon in the best way possible, round 3, and starting to get our stoker captain coordination down.
We get breakfast at the $.20 spicy noodle soup lady.
She keeps talking about how much I am going to love Ankor Wat, and the sites I mustn't miss.
I talked about Ankor the first meeting, and was very excited about it. I didn't care about it now. I wanted to follow her.
I had my ticket already.
We traded emails. We kissed, said goodbye, it was awkward.
I hope I see you again.
I finished that fucking History of God book on the bumpy, dusty, cramped 10 hour bus ride to Siam Reap. Next day, I looked into visiting the ruins. Bus tours or moto taxi tour. I found a place that rented bikes for around town. The ruins are about 10k out of town. It had 1 speed, cottered cranks, everything steel, pinner axles, at least 50 lbs, way too small. It has rim brakes, but they don't squeeze the rim like typical calipers, they pull out radially. They don't use cables and housing, rather linkage and rod.
It was hot. That bike was not fast. I did a big loop and visited the earlier, less dramatic, and less crowded sites. I did a few wheelies. I thought about things.
It was a fun challenge to try to hit a few jumps on such a poor bike without damaging it. I bent the wheels bit landing funny, and the spoke started rubbing the brakes. I fixed it with a rock. They still rubbed but not as bad. It was a hard ride back. I suffered.
If you are wondering, the itchy balls was prickly heat. I'm pretty lucky.
Everything in life is based on fear, especially love.
Daintree Tours Book Online and Save 15% at Trek North Tours. We specialize in Cairns Tours that include Daintree Rainforest, Kuranda and Cape TribulationYour blog is playing great ,i think i should learn to you .you let me understand that you are good.
Friday, August 30th, 8:07 am central standard tiime. Due to the TLDNR nature of recent posts the Internet fathers have declared this post dead. Go out. Get drunk. Ride bikes. Feel some titties. Fall down. Feed the dog. Leave it in. Pull it out. Tell her you love her. Hug your kids. Call grandma. Get a life. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND IT'S TIME TO RIDE A 100 AND THEN GO CAMPING! God I hate camping.
At least tent sex is on the agenda.
McFly: I'm planning on using your post as a checklist for this weekend.
Thanks buddy!
Leroy your dog is just figuring that out? Slow learner Eh?
Pistol Pete was a nyc bike messenger who would get drunk on payday and challenge his co-workers to a race. He rode a Cannondale; his pride and joy: "my Canny." No one ever took up on his challenges until a few guys got fed up; the race was on, quite possibly the first alleycat, back in 1991.
About half dozen bike messengers raced down Lexington Ave. The start line on the 35th st hill. With buses and taxis all around they sped near close to woo hoo speed; Pistol Pete shot through the traffic, twisting, swerving, narrowly missing car bumpers and fenders.
Right on, McFly.
Have a great holiday everyone.
CJ, it's all yours. Everybody else is out of here.
Over and out.
In Australia, only the last finishers end up on the podium. Coriolis effect, whatnot.
(Yes, I know.)
!MUIDOP
Whoops, that should have been:
¡É¯nıpoÔ€
Yeah, jumped the shark.
Why did I write this rambling, pot addled story? To remind wiwm of ugly things when he sees Merckx? Because I am bored?
I have liked this blog for a long time. The Kludgie made me read snob everyday. I really think he is funniest when he makes fun of goofy bikes, making metaphors that comment on larger issues... not getting all obsessed and preachy about bikeshare, bike lanes, civic planning.
I'll admit that part of what I liked about BSNYC, was a tie back to NY. I love the pnw, how wild, rugged and lush. There's many things wrong with NYC area, and I'm glad I don't live there anymore. There's certain things you miss, though.
I commented on this blog with no handle for a few years... mostly knuckle tats puns, and making fun of bikesnob's bikes when he posted them. He's so good at making fun of bikes, clearly knows a lot about them, so it was to try and find "incorrect" things to tease on.
I took the ChamoisJuice handle, after BS after lost his shit on his bike getting critiqued. He had responded to other jokes in the past, but like water off a duck.
I had this idea that Bikesnob is funnier when he is grumpy and talking about bikes. I made some comment about missing NYC for art, culture, pizza, black people and jews. Obviously, it was intended to bug BS to compare him to Wutang, but the sentiment was true. The reason I like Bikesnob IS the reason I like Wutang, is that it reminds me of people I knew.
I have been rambling about precivilized man, instincts, family, tradition. The diversity of language, culture, value systems. The evolution of civilization and it's value systems. Religion, government. I believe in science, natural selection. But science doesn't replace a weekly event to meet with your community, a chance to sing with others, celebrate, listen to thought provoking parables and funny jokes.
Science, law, education alone lead to a sameness. How exactly is Williamsburg different from Portland from Austin? We are moving toward tribes defined on fleeting tastes, and it all seems very empty.
Men are animals, just like the rest. 200k years we evolved as nomads, to hunt and fish.
Science has a hard time explaining gay people. On one hand, science say sexuality is born, it's genetic. Obviously, it's not a reproductive advantage individually; you don't reproduce.
OK, mutation. Why does this non-reproducing mutation show up so commonly?
The trait was successful for the group, not the individual. Nomadic humans have filled the earth, and are competing for limited resources. When there are too many people, it is advantageous to the group have productive people who do not reproduce. It is also adventageous to have some people that react to too many people by being aggressive.
Obviously, we're not going to go back to hunter gatherer. Obviously our values systems change incrementally. It is worth looking at how our current values came to be.
I'm sorry, bikesnob. You can have your comments back.
toluradPROMISE?
Mostly.
Occasionally, I'll share a funny link, relevant to my interests!
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/cguzman/urbanist-cycling-chamois-panties
Thanks for that link, MG, reminded me of my "babes in bikeland" dream.
Yeah, goodbye, see 'ya.
I know this isn't a bike blog anymore but, sweet Jeebus, the Vuelta is kicking ass!
Now go ride!
I may regret saying this (if it encourages asshole-CJ to return) but I enjoy what you write when you're not trying to be outrageous or a hard-ass.
It looks to me like you know when you're being an asshole, and aren't proud of it.
This is community, right here, even though it may not be a particularly profound one. That's why it sucks when someone comes in and starts vomiting on it.
Anwyay, happy Labor Day, all ye fellow residents of Canada's scranus.
Missy G -- that's a product I can get behind. And by get behind, I mean wheelsuck.
Ima puttin on a moter frim my moped onto.my bike! Holy crap I thinks I'm onto something here iffinit works...
My dog got one of those phones that takes dictation and translates doggerel. He phoned in the following.
TOP TEN LIST IN LIEU OF FRIDAY FAUX FUN QUIZ (Melbourne Festschrift fur der Freds edition)
Top Ten Fun Facts About Australia:
1. Australia's beloved prime minister, Dame Edna Everage, opens sessions of Parliament with the traditional Aussie greeting “Hello Possums."
2. Although loathe to admit it, Australians love tourists who greet them by exclaiming "the dingoes ate my baby."
3. You cannot determine an Australian's sexual orientation by asking if they prefer Sydney to Adelaide.
4. Noted American comedian Chris Rock is the scion of New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie and Australian monument Ayers Rock. (You’d be red too. Feel free to insert additional observation that seeing Chris Christie naked has Medusa effect here.)
5. Baby kangaroos are named after a popular character from the hit American television sitcom “Friends.” Sadly, their eponymous spin-off aired unsuccessfully.
6. The Australian state flower is the beaver.
7. Famous Australians include Arnold Schwarzenegger, Wolfgang Mozart, and sewing machine inventor Joseph Madesperget.
8. Australia's capital, Vienna, is the "Waltz Capital of the World." Penned in Vienna: The Viennese Waltz, The Blue Danube Waltz, Waltzing Matilda, and Joachim “Bruce” Hendrix's "Manic Depression."
9. Lederhosen is appropriate attire for formal Australian occasions
10. Australian character actor Mel Gibson first achieved notoriety as the owner of a chain of charm and etiquette schools.
11. Due to the popularity of its “Ride: Bike Snob NYC,” next year’s Melbourne's Writers Festival will feature a monster truck rally. Nota Bene – Mechanical bull riding enthusiasts who signed up for this year’s event without noticing the colon in the title will not receive refunds.
My dog’s top ten lists go to eleven.
Ride joyfully all! (You too, mechanical bull slinging enthusiasts.)
Finished my Birthday Road Ride a half hour ago. Broke Woo-Hoo speed while descending Joaquin Miller Road (no traffic, a lovely thing indeed) at 47.10 mph.
Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Woo-Hoo plus 1.
Plus, Birthday Mojitos tonight, and prezzies.
Have a great weekend everybody, and play outside.
Thanks, Leroy, and your dog, for the doggerel!
Happy Birthday Yarpo.
My dog gave me some book about a Bike Snob Abroad for my birthday.
Pages were dog-earred.
But much better than the socks he usually gives. He hadn't chewed the book.
Yarpo!
Happy Birthingday!
Nice achievement of momentum. Science doesn't change when you get older.
Have fun doing nighttime birthingday things.
Robot Word Trick: etaqual 28
Thank You! Nighttime birthingday things will include nakeding and assorted mojito-fueled mattress sports, for which I am truly, truly, grateful. Also, some cake!
No celebratory candles or road flares sticking out of my ass, though, for which I am truly, truly, grateful.
Happy night time mattress sport birthingday celebrations, Yarpo! And congratulations on woo hoo plus one!
I am truly, truly grateful for beaver flowers. Mmmmm beaver.
Couldn't stay away.
Happy Birthday Yarpo.
And CJ, not a bad story.
More dirndls!
3rd dang time we have tried to tent camp and 3rd dang time we have had to scurry back to the house. We were on a lil peninsula of land in the bay which was great until 40-50 mph winds began to whail. WOOHOO speeds indeed.
For the records I did slip the tent sex in beforehand. And also completely bonked on mile 85 of the Sunrise Century earlier that day. At which point we had held 19.5 mph. I mean I turned into a rolling train wreck. It was the best of times it was the worst of times.
WHO REALLY CARES ABOUT YOUR VACATION SCHEDULE (ASIDE FROM YOUR CATS AND MOTHER IN LAW)?
BORING. TRY PEDALING MORE!!!
I ALSO DISLIKE CYCLISTS WHO TELL ME ABOUT A CAR KILLING A BIKER.
YOUR COMMUNITY DOESN'T NEED A REASON TO STOP PEDALING.
DO YOU HAVE IDEAS OR JUST PAY FOR SHOW GRIEF?
Dear Mr. Anonymous 12:17 & 12:37 --
According to my dog, people who post comments like yours in all caps are most likely venting their frustration because Santa didn't bring them the penis enlargement kit they asked for.
That seems odd given that your friends and loved ones (assuming you have any) have more than 100 shopping days until Christmas.
But my dog is usually right about stuff like this.
Congrats to all on birthdays and epic rides.
Always enjoy hearing from Leroy and the dog.
The first of the top ten Australia Fun Facts reminded me of my favorite cartoon character of all time:
Ponce de Leon Montgomery County Alabama Georgia Beauregard Possum.
Known to all as Pogo Possum.
"We have met the enemy, and he is us!"
Happy day Yarp.
I saw this and thought i have to check BSNYC... and got sucked into reading 340 comments...
A proper Southern Hemisphere souvenir http://www.trademe.co.nz/sports/cycling/other/auction-633929432.htm
And CJ, maybe bit drawn out but good yarn.
Way to pinch hit C. J. took us to extra innings for the win.
trydang 19
"SHOW GRIEF"
Thanks to the Bike Snob NYC for his talk on at the cycling cities seminar
in Melbourne on Saturday. It was like he was blogging with his face.
I was just in New Zealand a month ago! I wish i read this before i had gone haha!
BIKE SNOB IS A LOSER BIKING GIVES LOWERS YOUR SPERM COUNT AND GIVES YOU BALL CANCER
thank you sir
very usefull for me
Well. Your thinking is really good. You write a good article on Australia rent carbon wheels. I think your all thinking is helpful for beginners. As same as this Triathlon for beginners magazine. More people like to learn Triathlon and want to join Aged care jobs Sydney . If you help them, I think they are profitable. Thanks
Taxi and other transportation services and vehicles chart is very effective keep it up nice work.
Maxi cab | Taxi Melbourne airport
good
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