One Foam Hat To Rule Them All

I have seen the future of cycling, and its name is Livall Bling:



Which, by sheer coincidence, is also the name of each and every one of my seventeen (17) children.

(When you have this many kids its silly to name them individually, and you're much better off treating them like a swarm.)

"Cycling is fun.  Extremely fun!!!," the video begins:

Yes, especially when you're wearing the maillot jaune and/or à pois and riding mountain bikes on the road slowly.

"As crazy cycling fans, we understand all the problems that you may, or have already encountered, during your ride," the narrator continues, a boldly omniscient claim which these two riders find particularly unsettling:

"Livall has many features that can simplify your ride and keep you safe."  Yes, not only does it allow you to read minds (and crotches), but it also has lights:

"Find the shining helmets and you will find the team," says the narrator:

You will also find a group of huge dorks--which could explain why that last quote sounds like something someone with a beard would tell the hero of a fantasy novel right before dying:

But wait, there's more, because "The built-in Bluetooth and mic enable you to take phone calls or communicate with teammates directly using the walkie-talkie function:"

Even when they're well within earshot and coming right at you:

"And of course you can listen to music with Bling Helmet and cycle to the beat!"

Yes, he actually said "Cycle to the beat," which sounds like something you'd do while dressed like this:

Anyway, if you're thinking all this shit is wildly confusing and incredibly distracting, you're right, which is why the Livall Bling also has a built-in distress signal for the inevitable crash:

Complete with emergency notification feature:

Though unfortunately what happens is that it alerts your friend, who's so shocked by the news of your crash that he crashes too:

Which in turn activates his emergency notification feature:

Which of course calls you--though tragically you're of no use to anybody, and now neither is he:

Thus, technology has transformed you into a Ourobos of Fredness:

But yeah, you operate the helmet by using a remote control called 'Bling Jet,' which is great news for the absolutely none of you who want a helmet that requires a remote control:

"It can simply be mounted on the bike and is very easy to use," explains the narrator as the rider jabs at it desperately with her thumb:

Sure, it looks really easy to use.  It only has like 20 buttons, and it's not obtrusive at all either.

And this is either a diagram of how the system works, or else it's a cartouche, I'm not entirely sure:

Then there's the stand:

And the onboard battery:

And of course the app:

Which gives you all this information:

Even though what it should really do is tell you to give up cycling immediately and find the best local deal on a new Hyundai:

And we haven't even gotten the cadence sensor or video and photo functions--nor are we going to, because I would like to live in denial of this kind of technology for as long as possible before they pass laws requiring us to use it.

Meanwhile, you will soon be able to get an e-assist for your Brompton:



At least if this guy can help it:

See, he's the one who invented the technology Fabian Cancellara used to cheat in all those races:

But alas, when you put the motor on a Brompton it won't fold:

Which is why you've never, ever seen Fabian Cancellara riding a Brompton.

Think about it.

Anyway, we all know a Brompton that doesn't fold is basically as useless as, well, this thing:

So the team got together:

And after deciding what to order for lunch they figured out how to move the motor slightly, allowing the Brompton to fold:

Okay, I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, "Why the hell does a Brompton need a motor?  If you're tired can't you just hail a cab?"  Well, sure, but watch how he effortlessly ascends that slight incline:

Plus, he and the Brompton have been able to rekindle their sexual relationship, since the lack of cycling exertion means he's no longer put off by the funk of his own crotch sweat:

And best of all, here he is Cat 6-ing the shit out of somebody at warp speed:

Because that's what it's all about.

See, a motor on a Brompton isn't so useless after all, is it?

At least not compared to this:



Or, for the ultimate in useless, how about this (nominal) human?

(Via Stevil/AHTBM)

Yep, a driver just killed somebody on the fucking sidewalk, and she's walking away while eating a slice of pizza.

So if you're wondering why this sort of thing keeps happening in New York City, it's because nobody gives a shit.

It's all horribly depressing, so here's some hilarious stand-up comedy to cheer you up:



Taking advice on how not to be a Fred from a guy wearing a jersey that says "Zenberry Mix" on it is like taking advice on how to be compassionate from the Human Pizza Rat who walked away from that murder scene.