Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Don't Blog Me Bro...

What a whirlwind week it twas, fine folks of Kansas Shitty, for all was good and fine and dandy wherein mt. biking, 'cross and other shenanigans of the bikecycles communist party were concerned: a tastily rad, 3 day weekend of racing/riding at Cliff Drive and the surrounding trails - built by the indomitable David HasselShoff and his crew of giant Smurfs; and although I did noteth attendeth the KC Critical Mass yet again, I hears it was a doozy. 

Even if ye did not attend the actual festivities on the single-track, the After-Urban rides that followed were taint-tingling as well...butt seriously fellow members of the proletariate, you need to get out to Kessler park and hit the cliff-edged trails that run above the east bottoms of KCMO; and then ride down the pave' to The Local Pig for a sausage or ten. Do it.

And, as a final salvo, in case you and your honey bear bunny were in need of an inquiry into the depths of despair/elation/masterbation that is the 8Lumens Army of None, the below images should tell enough of a story to get your appetite sufficiently whetted...you should sell all your belongings and give the proceeds to the EightLumensForLife-CultOfFutility, because the rest of your days depend greatly on the inclusion of your doomed soul in our organization. Like us on Facefuck and set up an Ello account while you're at it, you complete fucktards. 

...In case you see the CEO and CFO on the streets, let the below artistic renditions be your guide to a successful interaction/inculcation. 

Sunday, September 21, 2014

7 Lumens of Nope - It's not the humidity, it's the inanity.

As anyone in the knows knows, all the above photographic documentation concerns last night's 8th and suprematist Pub n' Pedal,  a KC Sprints/Oprah convention of convalescent freetardation, wherein the myriad dirtbag/mentally-illist cyclists of the greater Kaw'sMouth area convene to keep the wheat, barley and yeast farmers alive and well. If you were sitting at home diddling your illegitimate iPad I have little sympathy for your loss: though the air reminded me of my many month's turning tricks in a  Thai lady-boy brothel in July, the heated streets of KCMO/KCK were boiling with burned rubber from hundreds of velocipedes; sad and sordid for those who voluntarily avoided the rancid reverie. If you have any trouble piecing together a time-line of the evening's downward spiral, I am afraid there will be a mere modicum of assuagement provided by the Boner Ghost and his Princess'...try to try to try to have patience for those with less IQ points than yourself, and if need be, be present at next weekend's Urban Dirty at Cliff Drive/Kessler Park: a 3 day train-wreck of mt. bike/'cross racing that will surely satiate any remaining cells yet to be pickled by dipsomania...

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Beer is my Crossfit.

Yeah yeah, I know, Drunkcyclist said it better and first with "Whiskey is my Yoga", but for fucktardick's sake, let me be the first to openly condemn some of my dearest friends and associates for their recent forays into healthy living and virtual asceticism...of course 'condemn' is just a euphemism for jealousy, but who the twat is keeping track at this late hour on a Tuesday in the United Snakes of Embarrassika? I, for one, am awaiting the arrival of something that we, as modern citizens of the Wurl consider to be de facto gratification: the ever elusive Email. Yes indeed, when you live a mere 5 miles from Sprint's worldwide headquarters, you have the singular ability to send pictures through email on your phone and never, ever, ever fucking ever get them on your desktop. I even resent all 20 photos through Google+ and still no Andrew Dice Clay. Since this here blog is visually based - my words are merely a Rubic's Cube of poor depth perception - I must have these images in order to satiate my only functional sense; and it is not the tactile equivalent of rubbing one out to tri-sexual goat porn from Gautemala.

10 more minutes of waiting and still nothing...maybe I can piss off Ray Rice enough to knock my cracker-ass out so when I wake up the emails will be in the inbox of at least one of the sites they were sent to?
1. Fuck Sprint
2. FuckSprint
3 Fuck Sprint
4. Anally rape Sprint

I may or may maybe not have used theses images in previous posts, but I am at my VO2 max at this point in my workout, and the cranial contents are a tad swollen, much like my Members Only jacket will be this Saturday night at the aforementioned Pub n' Pedal, KC's best reason to get arrested whilst on a bike-cycle.

OOOOOOHHHHHHH SHIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT....the fucking assclown Cloud just came in my mouth...was able to find a few of the images I wanted about 30 minutes ago.