This Wednesday Has Been Drilled Out For Weight Savings, Ride At Your Own Risk.

Holy crap, the Philadelphia Bike Expo this weekend is going to be INCREDIBLE!!!

Firstly, check this out:

I fully intend to put the "semin" in "seminar.

Secondly, while I'm inseminaring everybody, I'm also going to be giving away an unprecedented amount of stuff.  (In fact, instead of a seminar I might just do a great big pub-style quiz.)  Check out this shipment of Knog Blinders that arrived this morning:

Obviously I'll sell almost all of them on eBay and pocket the proceeds, but I'm totally going to give away one set in Philly.

And, AND, while I was doing some seasonal closet reorganization (summer clothes in, winter sweaters out, move the Chrimma ornaments towards the front for easier access next month, how fucking punk rock is that?) I came across a bunch of t-shirts, which I'll give away along with some hats:

Don't worry, if you're not lucky enough to get a hat you can always buy one.  The shirts, however, are not for sale, nor will they ever be, so this could be your only chance to walk around promoting me with your chest.  Now, I should admit that the sizes are a bit limited, and apart from one "S" they're all "XL," but if you start hitting the cheese steaks now you may be able to fill one of those bad boys out by Saturday.

Or else just use it as a nightshirt.

Oh, I should also mention I hope you're not allergic to cat dander, because Countess Labia* has been all over this stuff.

*[Sung to the tune of "Countess Bathory" by Venom.]

Wow.  With all this stuff to schlep, I may have to drive to Philly in THE CAR THAT I OWN--and if I do you better get the hell outta my way, because my gas taxes pay for your shants and bike lanes, you freeloaders.

Speaking of me, did you know I still write for "Bicycling?"  Apparently so, and you can read it on the Internet:

Ah, "Bicycling"...come for the flat fixing instructions, stay for the bloviating.

In other news, everybody knows by now that Toronto mayors Robs Fords finally admitted to smoking the crack (crack cocaine as they're always careful to point out, since there's no law in Canada against freebasing donuts), "probably" in one of his "drunken stupors."   However, instead of focussing on that, I'd rather go back and watch the performance that put him on my radar in the first place:

What a disgusting human being.  It's like all the hatred and animosity that Canadians force down beneath their cloying politeness manifest itself in this one man.  He's like the "concentrated evil" in "Time Bandits."

Speaking of pains in the ass, a reader recently reminded me why I don't read Internet cycling forums:

Saddle sores in the butt-hole from Ergon saddle?

Anybody here experienced saddle-sores on the butt-hole from Ergon saddles? I just finished my first 25 hour solo mtb race this weekend, and experienced pain where I've never experienced it before. The Ergon saddle has been amazingly comfortable for the most part. However, I'm wondering if the saddle drops down two much for the sitt-bones, leaving the potential for things to rub in the center?

Okay, if you're getting saddle sores inside your asshole maybe these ridiculous ultra-endurance mountain bike races aren't for you.  Or, maybe they are for you, but you mistook an Ergon grip for an Ergon saddle.  This would certainly go a long way towards explaining your problem.

Anyway, recently I found myself browsing Kickstarter.  See, in addition to the lights Knog also sent be a bunch of narcotics they want me to move for them, so I'm going to need some way to launder the proceeds.  And after careful consideration, I think I'm going to put it all into this kickstand for Freds:


Even though the inventor couldn't be bothered to put on fresh bar tape for his pitch video:

Though perhaps it's a calculated decision meant to underscore the urgency of his need for funding.

Also, what's going on with his cables?  They're all over the place:

I'm supposed to trust this guy as an engineer?  His cockpit is a disaster!  It looks like a cable hairball.

But then I saw the Fred Stand, born of his desire for a reliable perch for his road bike:

Actually, maybe that's why his cables were so long.  He might have been using them to moor the bike to lampposts.

Anyway, even though I'd never actually use the Fred Stand (and I don't have a good reason, other than I wouldn't), I must say it's actually kinda nifty:

In fact, it could very well make the "disembodied hand" obsolete:

Though it seems to me he could have added an integrated mini pump or something, because why not?

And when you're done you just stick it under your saddle or in your pocket:

Anyway, it looks like the inventor of the Fred Stand has raised just under two grand so far, all of it from the Maestro:

Because, you know, conducting baton.

Lastly, much is made of the whole "cars vs. bikes" thing, but the real eternal struggle is the one between cyclists and joggers:

To the lady I yelled at who was jogging in the bike lane on Kane St - m4w (Cobble Hill)

I'll start by apologizing. It was childish and wrong of me to yell "nice bike, asshole!" at you as you were jogging in the bike lane on Kane Street a couple of days ago. I let my anger get the better of me, and I'm sincerely sorry for that. I hope I didn't scare you, or ruin your day.

Now having said that, can I ask a favor... would you stop running in the bike lane? Those lanes are there to help protect cyclists (and the kids they sometimes carry with them on their bikes) from having to ride out in traffic. They're not jogging paths. Runners don't belong there.

Of course, I think you probably know that; I bet you're familiar with pictograms, because I bet you were brought up in human society, so you were able to decipher the ones that are spray-painted in the bike lane at regular intervals. I bet you could tell they were bikes, and not joggers, and I bet you understood what that means in terms of who's supposed to be using that lane. And I know you weren't in the bike lane temporarily, to avoid a bit of sidewalk congestion. The sidewalks on Kane Street were completely clear, and you were out there for a good long time, long enough for me to catch up to you from Henry before passing you on the far side of Hicks (meanwhile, Kane Street itself was full of traffic, making your presence in the bike lane extra dangerous for both of us).

No, you were out there because you decided that the bike lane was your personal jogging path, that law and public policy and safety and common sense should kneel before your bizarre sense of entitlement. Well they shouldn't. That was a selfish, dangerous, and stupid thing you did. Please don't ever do it again.

Honestly, I don't think this is a big deal, but maybe that's because it's Wednesday.