In the wake of the #metoo movement - which I am 110% in support of - I have questioned the name of this blog (even though it was initially to piss off the 'religious right') and have thought deeply and sensually about changing the title to maybe a less 'offensive', albeit Dada-esque moniker. Maybe the initialization could become something akin to 'Another Conscious Cavalcade of Pubic Ball Gonads' or 'Anal Connoisseurs Conduct Period Ballets with Grover' or perhaps a Pence-endorsed heading such as 'Arisen Christ Covers the Papal Bible Gonorrhea'. In either/or/nor/none case, we have here a conundrum of postmodern concern and, though it is not my aim to make an overt affront to the fairer, more intelligent sex, it is nonetheless a pertinent pattern of self-recognition that I must follow, and, if I so choose to label myself Captain Cuntwat or Princess Boner Ghost, the Gawds should allow me my destiny, whether proffered or preferred. In the macabre end, which it surely will be, a downward spiral not unlike a black hole sucking on a entropy-infected donkey schlong, it may be fitting that the 6 words will have to be stricken from the electronic register, because I will be the first to admit that words have emotional weight and have been used in a mostly derogative fashion, one that is focused directly on impeding and defaming women for centuries. But, words are also nothing without inherent intent, and though it is not my place to interpret anyone else's sensibilities, I find it difficult not see the obvious humor - dark as it may be - in the appellation that encompasses ACCPBG. So vote with your fingers, sticky and cramped as they may be...for now we stay in the dingy realms of #ballsdeepinatunacan. Or Infinite Jest.
Things have been extra-thingy, so thing-infused here in KC with the cycling scene, from Volker becoming One Star, to *569 more miles of new single-track being built every week, to a solid new crew of #8Lumens recruits that I cannot and will not stop, even for the breaka dawn; never have I been so impressed with our city and its denizens of the Mountain Bike-cycle - the gnar is flowing like manna from Hellven. That being said....I am once again sans any type of suspension on my 4 off-road bikes and after a 3 month stint with a dropper post - my second attempt at justifying the sissy-stick - I have rid myself of even that piece of modern accoutrement. Tires at least 3 inches wide, with a preferred width of 3.8 ( with a 27.5 rim ) have overtaken the stable, and though the stallions are fast and rough, my enjoyment whilst straddling these #rockybukake beasts has never been higher.
Since we are in an early season mini-drought in the KC metro - roughly 5 inches below average - and since our Winter lasted practically 'til the very end of April, we have had little down time as far as trail closures are concerned ( our clay-based soil, though rocky, takes 2-3 days to dry out so as not to damage the trails ) so we have been getting a lot of quality riding days under our belts for this point in the year. And really that's all that matters: single-track with friends and copious beer as pain-relief; same as it ever was, same as it shall ever be, regardless of how many Sleep concerts I miss and Stormy porn that I don't. Stay dirty.
OneStar soft-core opening party...
Bored Meatings a total sucksex as of late...
Stacking short-pours, works every time.
