Brokeback Mounting....

Ahhhh...the sweet stench of failure farts in my face yet again, the racing at Wyco today less than glorious, my speed less than fast, but overall a fun, dry course with tons of climbing and a bit too much gravel for my single-speed. The company was stellar, though, and many of my butt-ass ugly mt. biker friends were present for the suffering; only the dust in my schnoz was grittier. After the post-race gluttony of tacos and heroin, I felt like partying again and had a personal moment on the drive home listening to the newest Ventura cd which rocks my cock into a shriveled stack of dimes...At least my lover from another mother was there to succor me pre-race, and then smoke the field in the pro event...

Thanks go out to El Blanco Miguel - http://www.beatsbikesandlife.blogspot.com - for all the Paparazzi

photos and for supplying the pre-race attendees with some hard ass crashing on uphill gravel. Surely one of his *34 concubines will give him a 20 hour sponge bath with multiple happy-endings when they see his bloodied body; which was akin to Medusa on her period. 

My Krampus was the only thing between me and drooling in the gravel...

Next time I "train" for a race, let it not consist of 8 hrs of driveway tarring...my wrists felt like I had jacked-off 1000 donkeys by the time I crossed the finish line.

Ghost Boner out.

Helter Skelter...

Bitch bitch beeaatchhha....today had highs: Riding 2 hours on the Blue River with a new chain on my King Krampussy; and lows, sealing and tarring my 100 fucking yard driveway with my own, two lonesome, blistered effing hands....dear Deevil: stop the Gawdamn madness.

I was supposed to spend the night getting plastered with Ricko the Dicko at the Bier Station; staring at mini-skirts and thongs, but no, instead I tarred my stupid fucking driveway until 10p.m. At least the Krampus and my thighs are ready to rage at Wyco on Sunday...if my hands heal that is. 

Dry cracks at Swope...

Well, it was a somewhat limited success this morning for the 'return of the Krampus': a few quirks to dial in with the new hub; and it also seems as though I will need to get a new chain after the holiday. After 3 weeks off the 29+ and riding my SS Pugsley, I had forgotten how different the two bikes are - and not just the Knards vs. Nates debate. I hope and pray to the Devil of Fat that Surly makes a 3.2- 29+ tire similar to the Nate; more traction is needed on the rocky-ass shit we call trails here in Kansas Shitty. Don't get me wrong, the rocks and roots give me a super boner, but even the Rabbit Holes/Knards combination is a little lacking on dusty limestone. Even though it took me about 30 minutes to get used to the bike again, the Krampus is still the most fun one can have on two wheels...unless Jenna Jamison is giving you a reverse knob job from your handlebars...

My supa-sassy Pugs in a tad bit more chilly weather on the Kaw River...

Your moment of Gravity's Rainbow for the week...

I do not miss winter at all...bring it on Global Warming.

Beer Boner...

I know all you fucktards out in the interweb lands of doom need y'all a sticker or ten...email me and I'll send you enough offensiveness to relegate your fat ass to the couch for at least a night or 20....free of charge of course.

Thanks to Ms. Flash Ass Gordon for the tag....

Angel God Demon out...

Kaw without a bike....

Today is going down the drain I'm afraid, after 4 hours in the sun hiking and kayaking the Kaw River with 4 boys, and then riding over to the Bier Station for Founder's Night, I am ready to surf the series of tubes for a Jones Spaceframe or maybe a third Russian mail-order bride, whichever comes first.  Let the photo essay below be your guide....

Princess CuntBoner out...

Life Bonk...

Today is a rest day of sorts before a week off from the toils of Government service, two wrongs making 3 rights in this case. Will spend the day riding the Cargo bike to the store and piddling around on paved trails with the kiddo and friends. The Krampus is back, better and stronger than before, ready to slay the dry rock single-track...maybe even getting me in shape enough for the Wyco race next Sunday.  Who knows, I might just get fat watching the Tour this week and blowing up the dead ground squirrels our cat leaves at our back door; it's just 'Merica #1 when you put a firecracker where you shouldn't...or anywhere near the new $5000 carbon Salsa Beargrease.

Riding a Fatty gives me a Chubby...

But only if it's a 27 TPI Surly Nate....which is similar in girth to Shamu's schlong...

And in other news of import, a wonderful ride took place last night in conjunction with the ERTA Taco Tuesday ho's and the Pirate Ride/8 Lumens Freetards. Even the Pirate himself came out of hiding and mounted his Fatty with unabashed sexual frivolity and proceeded to get *459 flats in a 3 hour period. 

But all in all, the dirt was in epic, hero condition, and Team 8 Lumens slayed the beast on the Blue River with 4 inches of rubber, not unlike Kanye and his progeny North West.  El Blanco Miguel also had tire issues, having to stop and air up his "tubeless" fatties as they self-steered him into the river at least *38 times. Only the Silent Killer and I survived unscathed and rode the new Wagon Wheel offshoot *219 times as we waited for the Dos Dumbassos to fix their steeds. 

As we removed the 5 millionth tick from our crotches, the ride continued back down through the river valley and eventually to the Sandtrap, where we were served by 8 year old girls collecting rolly- pollies and scrounging for tips - a long story that I need far more beer with which to tell. Blanco Miguel had many luscious diatribes and kept the crowd at bay with his descriptions of ball chaffing and caffeine abuse paired with Chick Fil Gay-filled frame bags. In the end the Cuntwat ruled the roost with his motocross tires and fearless ascents of the Highline; because referring to oneself in the 3rd person is the first step towards the rubber room.