Tuesday, April 29, 2014

"So, what do you think of this dildo I bought on Groupon?"

Of the myriad and devious persons of this world that I dare call my friends, one, let's call him Schmicko, has been having the time of his life over the last 18 months or so, following a divorce after 10+ years of wedded bliss/torture. This, in turn, gives me a window - or peephole to be more accurate - into a life that I no longer can imagine, even with the most salacious of sense-memory functioning, and last night I received a two-week update on the trials and tribulations of having a sore member; and not from getting kicked by a horny goat on meth: this was how the evening began, and it went downhill expediently from there…

Oh the joys of getting a text from a potential dating partner that contains the glorious image of a battery-powered device not used for KOM's…

Drunkeness of a magnitude 8.5 followed with muchos haste, and eventually The Dicko made his way home, on the way surely laying waste to *345 Big Macs.

Since the rains came back to our area with a heated vengeance over the weekend and have yet to loosen their grip on our area, trail riding is on hold for a few days - probably until the weekend, wherein Team 8 Lumens will either be riding at the Cedar Cross in Missouri or at the Wilson Lake Fat Tire Festival in central Kansas. And, speaking of the Lumens of 8:

front of tee..

and the back..

The kick ass/sack/balls digi-camo cycling hats will be available through the above link on Monday so get some while it's hot to twat…

Thursday, April 24, 2014

The beer in week / Titanium boner.

Drink, ride, porn, sleep and repeat….there is probably a far better way to describe the last five days or so, give or take a six, but in all actuality, simplification is the work of the Lard, so, suffice it to say, thangs have been rolling right along with the joy of a thousand carbon dildos wrapped in Park Tool grease: three long rides in just under a week and more beers than German AA meeting.

In all truthlessness, the only reason I ride mt. bikes with such an unabashed fervency is so I can imbibe a different craft beer every other night of the week -the off eves are devoted to Yogi antioxidant tea ( to keep my girlish figure in check) - and, if my friends are in the mood, maybe an abusive night or three at The Bier Station. I have yet to go out to a bar stool and drown my elations by my lonesome, but my back screen-porch is fair game for solo booze-juice downing…

BuRP with El Blanco and The Manimal... 

The flesh-wound aftermath of a supa-fast ride with The Silent Killer…

And finally, after buying some camo fabric for hats for Team 8 Lumens etc., it would seem that everyone and their illegitimate cousin wants one, enough so that I just purchased enough new digi-camo for 20 more hats….which should be done in the next week or so. The above pic is of the dashing Eric up in British Columbia, aka Juan Effing Speed, a devoted devotee of all things Boner Ghost - 
 - wherein you and your hated ones can find gems like this:

May the sack be with you...

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Sassyfrass: Bless his heart.

     A mid-end week downdate, similar to the euphemistic, broken terms such as 'midwest' and 'non-racist Republican', and completely devoid of meaning or relevance; here we stay again, barreling toward the lowest position possible, one in which every remote facet of life makes sense only when Lance Armstrong changes a flat in front of a Surly banner….Dada is back folks; hipsters get your urinals out and write R. Mutt on your sublimely parted coiffure.

On the odd occasion that I give a single flying fuck about the rules that govern professional cycling, or any other sport for that matter, I choose Jif: crunchy and creamy in the same bite. Let it be known that Outside Magazine is alive today because of The Mellow Johnny appearing on their cover at least *347 times over the last 15 years, a tacit endorsement of the doping that everyone with .001% of a brain knew was taking place on every single pro team. I have always been a proponent of the 'live and let cheat' mythos, because of reasons. Do we really need a debate on the merits of drug testing et al? No.
Athletes and the advertisers behind them will always push the envelope of legality and glory, and if I had been born with their Vo2 maximums, I would in no way be any more moral or grandiose in my approach to winning: when everyone else is doping, 27th place is relegated to the cow trough of history. So, as per usual, I have taken a long walk for a short jump, and after watching the world's greatest egomaniac ( next to Oprah and Ted Cruz ) change a flat to keep Outside alive this past week, I can only say that I never cared one iota whether or not he was a crook: winning The Tour in the manner he did - while desecrating cycling traditions - was impressive; sad to say to be sure, but nonetheless bringing corporatized cycling into the American mainstream.

In more lesserer baddery news, we finally got our panties wet here in KC this last Sunday, but Swope was ready to ride last night after sun and wind soaked up all the sexy juices covering the rocky goodness above the Blue River: Hero dirt in every category. The Mike of White and I were the only ones with giners of fortitude to show up for an insane amount of speed, blood and upper-body brutalizing; team 8 Lumens is becoming a cult of 2 I'm afraid to report, though there was a gravel-grinder last Saturday I here tell...

And, finally,  speaking of giners and fancy bikes, it seems that The Pirate - Capt. Sparrow to his mistresses - has officially made the move to Ft. Collins and has relocated Oddity Cycles to the offices of Black Sheep Cycles as pictured below…what an incredible journey for a KCMO legend in his own right, and I say that only because some are destined for greatness, others for liver failure and prison.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

The build - Ti 29+ rocket.

Last Monday was a festival of joyousness in the eyes of the Lard, ladies and germs, for the newest edition to my stable of Fatbikes/29+ers finally came together; the only piece of the extravagant puzzle left to add are XTR pedals to replace the red Ritchey's seen in the below images. I was able to ride for an hour or so down on the Roanoke loop and the bike was beyond belief in all categories…

There were a few slight hiccups with the build, mainly that the Sram XO cranks would not fit on the eccentric BB, so we had to go with Shimano XT's for now. The rest of the spec goes like this:

- Industry 9 hubs/ Velocity Dually's, Knards 27tpi tubeless, Salsa Ti skewers.
- Ritchey carbon fork ( 6mm total lateral clearance)
- Enve stem/bars/post
- Specialized Toupe' expert hollow-rail Ti saddle (yes, I know, they are royal dooshnozzles, but it was free and light as fuck.)
- Shimano XT brakes/rotors, Surly cog 32x19 gearing.
- Ritchey lock-on foam ergo grips. 
- FSA 44mm headset.
Total weight: 20.8 lbs. 

As you can or cannot imagine, riding a bike that is virtually an exact copy of my Krampus that weighs a full 8 lbs. less is akin to putting a rocket in your ass and flattening the Roadrunner. Though the rake of the fork brings the wheelbase back almost a full inch when compared to the Krampus - which makes for a slightly rougher ride - the overall feather-like feel of riding this badass is in the realm of the magical sails of a Barbie dreamliner cruise. I had another chance to get out on the trails on Wednesday - out at BuRP finally - for a hero-dirt session with the Whitest of Mikey and sundry other miscreants, and was able to get a better handle on just how different a bike this Ti whore would be….and the results are positive: I have a vestigial tail and a mute/deaf twin in my liver. There is absolutely no flex to the frame, and the fork seems insanely rigid as well, due in no small part to the straight blades and beefy crown. I was able to fly over every gnarly techy/rocky section, including the latest iteration of offshoots, the Basement Trail extension, with newfound agility and momentum - good Satan Christ the bike is sicker than sick. Just a bit bummed that I could not race her at the rescheduled Bonebender yesterday…might have given the Silent Killer a run in the SS division….if Pig Princess' could fly.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

I forgot to remember / Unicorns are real.

In the event that this transmission is intercepted by the N.asty S.aracasm A.sshats before Google Cock pulls the plug on your Granny, let it be known that The Princess passed on a bevy of tasty beverages this very afternoon in leiu of being a responsible parental figure; not a common occurrence to be sure, but lightning does strike thrice on occasion…and as well as staying sober until 8p.m. I am risking an ignorance of dry trail tonight - slight chance of rain is in the forecast - in hopes that my Enve parts will arrive in time for an early afternoon ride on my new Ti 29+, which got a little dirty with spare cockpit bits on Thursday at Roanoke during a quick test ride.

El Blanco Miguel stroking my brakes while I drank his beer and pet his pussy…Hudson.

The above pic is a rough draft, a hastened build by Britton at Volker Bicycles in order that I make a test run on the track of single. Enve stem/bars/post will arrive tomorrow and if the aforementioned rain holds, I will again spank the Roanoke rocks. The frame is a custom Ti, mm to mm exact with a medium Krampus, is made in China and comes in just under 4 lbs. ; the bike with pedals will be a hair over 21lbs. I will do a full run-down of the parts spec and how it rides in a few days - or until my bike boner lets me pee sitting down. (the fork is a Ritchey carbon and the wheels/hubs are Industry Nine laced to Velocity Dually -tubeless ) Dig deeper….

The Chasmgasm and I did a little impromptu 8Lumens meeting at the Bier Station
Friday night and had enough pretentious beer to supply a prom in Brooklyn…wherein I was chastised by the staff for arriving on a skinny-tired cycle.