Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Beer Enemas and Whiskey Lubrication


Still waiting for the trails to dry so off to the Bier Station we go - riding my Necromancer through the night like a 400lb. stallion...



And, while all of the KC mt. biking community anxiously awaits the return of the Pirate - http://singlespeedpirate.blogspot.com - with his shiny, new, spankorific 29+ he built with his own two non-apposing thumbs, I am planning on hitting the good ol' Blue River; this time with the Krampus in tow- more in-depth lab work on the heavyweight champion of the 29+ gang bang.











Sunday, July 28, 2013

29+ Porno...


And so it was written, Jesus laid his hands on the poor and they became rich enough to buy themselves a set of Rabbit Holes with 29x3 Knards...and through the eye of the needle they passed, smacking their 170mm bars on every tree in sight. The only thing stopping the Devil from intervening in Purgatory was the presence of the newest Fuck Buttons CD blaring from the pearly-knecklace gates.  In other, more linear words, I was able to get 20 or so miles of tasty trail under my garter belt this evening out on the Blue River; even though I had to get through the minefield of equestrian fecal matter every 20 yards or so. Gawd a horse steak sounds good right about now. 


That being said, the trails were in impeccable condition and the rocks knelt down before me and begged for sweet mercy; they were completely disappointed in their failed efforts to dethrone me from my rocket whip - a.k.a the Jones Spaceframe of Mach 7 thrust. I am hesitant to declare a winner in the Jones vs. Krampus battle royale, but as per usual, many mucho more hours of beta testing will be required to come to anything that qualifies as a post-theoretical denouement. All I can say with any certainty is that the 29+ format - actually the outer diameter is 30.5 - ( take that and shove your 650b up your dry cock-hole) is really the only way to tackle ultra-technical trail on a rigid bike. Even though the Jones can only fit a 2.5 on the rear, it is still faster than coke flowing into Courtney Love's nasal passageway; only a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of thangs.



Hopefully after the rains end we will be able to get back out and smack some shit up out at SMP or Swope some fateful night this week; for who are we to think we can bury the demons so easily - as paltry disciples of dirt we owe Mother Earth only our best efforts.






Saturday, July 27, 2013

Share the (fat) love...


Just got through loading up both my Krampus and Pugsley single-speeds for a friend of a friend to borrow for the remainder of the weekend. Although it pains me to see $4000 in Surly goodness roll out of my driveway without me, I can sleep well knowing that as an ambassador of Pork, the joy they will produce far outweighs any risk. That's what criminally expensive and corrupt insurance is for, anyway.
I myself am taking out the newest pony in the stable, the sexy-ass Jones SS, for a romp in the dirt before the impending, animals-two-by-two deluge finally wets our fair city tomorrow evening. Hopefully the Pirate will return and get one or two last rides in with the 8 Lumens crew before he relocates out to Potville and leaves us mere mortals languishing in our own Boulevard-soaked feces...






Thursday, July 25, 2013

Cock block socks...


Shit got rogue last night somewhere in Midtown Kansass Shitty; the beer flowed like Devil's Gravy and  too many inebriated miles wore holes in my flabo-ass. I ended up stumbling home on my Jones SS at 1:45 a.m. , still picking stick-tights out of my beard. A decent sized crew met at The Bier Station and followed the Trolley trail -in all its concrete dusted glory - down to an undisclosed location atop an apartment near the bowels of hell. 



Myriad Java Stouts and Ranger IPAs were consumed with utter abandon, and I was at this point so over-served that I rode my bike backwards all the way to Linwood or some street of similar ill-repute. Our goal was a blind, suicidal run through the newly-finished Roanoke trail system - replete with 3 story cliff drops and ankle-crushing boulders - and then up the ancient 16th century brick hills to the Hi-Dive bar on 39th for a pit stop then on North to the Scout and eventually the river. I can neither confirm nor deny whether I made it to any of those destinations; only my credit card statement can act as my mental GPS in any attempt to reconstruct the line of travel...a muy bueno night of riding with the young'uns to be sure. Thanks for the invite you inviolate fucktards....



...just needs a Captain Cuntwat sticker for instant classiness. If I hadn't already handed out about 10 of them as business cards I would have stripped naked and applied at least 3 with my schlong.  I'm a pro.




Princess TwatCunt out___________










Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Joe gots hims a Krampussy...

No this is not a picture of Joe or his purty new Krampus with a Syncros carbon fork...but hey, sometimes yours truly just can't remember to take a fucking photo to save his life.


And congratulations to Joel and his beautiful wife on their newest addition to the family of wacko bikers; may the force be with thee as the poop flows like wine at a Coolio after-party...







Sunday, July 21, 2013

Nostalgia is a dish best served old...



It has been a long 5 days off the bike due to a family outing to the wondrous mountains in north-central Arkansas; a bi-yearly tradition dating back to the birth of my son almost 9 years ago.                                


But enough about family outings, let's talk some fucking bikes...The Jones Spaceframe rides like lightning in my taint, and if the rain holds off, I plan to get in at least 2 long night rides this week. With the Pirate on his last peg leg here in KC, hopefully the dirt church will be well attended, and all acolytes   
will be in attendance for the single-track confessional. Dig.



I keep good company in my shop...


And I will leave you with some root-porn from Arkansas...you're welcome.

Goner Bhost out...







Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Two hour orgasm..


The dust bowl may be making a comeback here in the Midwest, but it sure makes for some tasty trail conditions, albeit a tad gritty in the teeth. And although the temps were insane and the humidity was akin to an elephant's trunk stuck in a whale's coochie, last night's Taco Tuesday ride - with the ERTA gang and Ethos/8 lumens - was a kick in the crotch of a good time. Due to the crack team of mechanics that joined me for the Jones build-fest, I was able to get my new baby out and ride her like the Black Beauty she is...


Due to my high level of intoxication - I was over self-served - the only thing I could trust myself with was a chain tool; which was highly suspect in its effectiveness.




The Pirate giving his best impression of Jenna Jamison...




Full ride report and expert analysis of the similarities/differences between the Jones 29+ and my beloved Krampus to come; now I must drink copious amounts of coffee and go to work at my side job at WalFart as a greeter...


Ghost Princess out...







Monday, July 15, 2013

Something wicked this way cums...


In this box lies a Jones Spaceframe and Truss fork...build party tonight if I don't get too drunk before the guests arrive.



My second set of Rabbit Holes this year...I need an intervention.
More pix to follow as the night progresses or devolves, depending on your view of the universe.


At 9.5 % a.b.v., this should be enough inspiration to chop off the steerer tube too short by 3 inches...






Saturday, July 13, 2013

Let us Prey...



May all our thoughts and layers be with El Blanco Miguel on this daunting night; where we wait with pickled breath to hear that our soldier of misfortune can pull through - or pull out in his case.  May your dirt-facial heal with surprising efficiency, and please please please let him have at least one gold tooth by Monday morning. Fat falls hard my friend...take it from me, I've been pinned by Oprah so many times that my schlong is like a tail.



For a better recap of his pile-driver at Swope, read this tirade of terror...






Thursday, July 11, 2013

A tick on my dick...


For those of you who missed last night's Pirate ride - http://singlespeedpirate.blogspot.com - I pity you to the ends of the earth. That being said, the four of us that were able to show our faces for the fete of sweat and parasites were rewarded with myriad jewels of joy...


The trail conditions at SMP were quite good, all in all, and other than the aforementioned tick attack, the heat was really the only negative factor we had to otherwise overcome; though the SMP park police were quite disappointed they couldn't make a bust during our after hour invasion of the Autobahn. It had been nearly three weeks since the Pirate Crew/Team 8 Lumen gang had gathered at the roundtable of raunch, and the festivities did not fall short of expectations in any way, shape or form.  The night was replete with Indiana Jones-like spider web facials, as well as a gaggle of giddy high-schoolers atop the six story lookout tower. There may or may not be photographic evidence of Handleballs' valiant re-ascent of the structure to apply many a Capt. Cuntwat stickers on the railings; only the statute of limitations will save him from the law- the one that concerns forceable tick removal by a third party in Daisy Dukes. 


After a few wrong turns and sidewall plugs we made our way back to the Lair of Doom and hastily commenced with the injection of barley juice enemas, the ticks jumping to their demise with b.a.c levels of close to 50%...PETA should be alerted at once. The only thing that would have made the night more of a success would have been the presence of El Blanco Miguel and his new Fatback Porker; for all is lost when tales of loose lips flapping in the wind from a parasail are not told...




The Princess in...









Monday, July 8, 2013

Monday dump...

Enjoy these gems to help the beer flow into your veins...or meth if you don't like teeth.





May the farce be with you as the heat from my innards flows across your fettered brow...because all things good and pure happen one-handed; including PBR-inspired stair descents.