Something Almost "Bike" Related

Sales manimal Teenwolf goes through mountain bikes like most people go through Kleenex. His latest addition is a plucky lil' OIZ Orbea he has named Alejandro Bocadillo in an allusion to its Spanish lineage and love of New World colonization. Still light-headed from this Double Down nonsense and buffoonery, The Blog can only show photos of the diabolica malicia in all its built-up glory...


Flatbar cockpit...
Plenty of rear tire clearance...
Paper thin!

Form-fitting chainstay protector...
Strategic water bottle cages obscure bike's name!
Not too shabby Teeny!!!

Fortune Favors The Brave: A Bib Short With A Poop Flap?

Or is it, "Discretion is the better part of valor"?
It's funny, The Blog has been reading a lot of post-Double Down recaps online. Lots of brilliant observations with a few that seem to miss the "purpose" of eating a Double Down but for the most part, top shelf reporting. Most, however, only concentrate on the actual eating of the Double Down. First impressions, reactions, etc. Very few deal with the aftermath of eating a Double Down.

Each Double Down is packaged in its own bag to prevent them from mating, like Tribbles and subsequently ravaging the countryside in a wake of ectoplasmic bacon grease...
Well gentle reader, wonder no more. I shall work backward like that lovely little romp "Memento" and regale you with a tale of horror from my bathroom around five thirty this morning. I awoke feverish with a patina of glistening sweat on my forehead. My baby was kicking with reckless abandon in my stomach until I realized I wasn't pregnant. (Late Edit; Management). "The horror, the horror" was whispered as I passed out on the cool tile floor of the bathroom. The Blog had received a premonition from beyond the grave pertaining to this morning's "battle" based on an phantasmagorical William Blake-styled dream I had the preceding night before. Basically, I was Billy Crystal's character in "Running Scared" and a zombie version of Gregory Hines was force feeding me cube-sized bits of Double Down as he sang Steve Miller's "Jungle Love" sotto voce while a filth covered Colonel Sanders rubbed his hands together and laughed maniacally in the background. Yeah, it was weird, but the subtext was clear. Preceding this most unsettling of unsettling dreams, The Blog's tummy felt like a beehive alllll afternoon. It was a constant, buzzing hive of sharp, pain. I knew I was in trouble. The ride home was especially disconcerting as the only thought running through the head was "These bibs aren't going to come off quick enough. If I try and rip them off, they'll only stretch. Just close your eyes and think happy thoughts if it happens. Let adrenaline take over and just pedal standing up... then jump in the Congaree River." The Blog had no idea the Double Down would shred his insides so thoroughly. It's the perfect, human-engineered killing machine that has turned against its human creators. A culinary Rutger Hauer.

Speaking of killing machines, in order to get to the KFC, receiving wunderkind, bon vivant and mutton-chopped Lothario, Chris Maret was gracious enough to chauffeur us in his PT Cruiser. Chris drives like your typical Massachusetts native: A mixture of Steve McQueen and Speed Racer, both in the throes of a meth binge the day before the earth is to be struck by an asteroid. Chris also chats like your typical Massachusetts native. The topics came fast and furious: Pirelli Tires, Junk Shop Tetanus Shots, Ant-Filled Alice Cooper Records, The Rarity Of Blackberry Slushees, Paris Honeymoons, "Buffalo 66", Vincent Ghallo's Inexplicable Aversion To Jewish Hobbits (seriously), Greek Food Masquerading As Italian Food, Cop Shoot Outs, Moog Synthesizer Pricing: English Vesus American and The Inadequacy Of Live Neil Diamond Performances. These topics were touched upon in a span of 15 minutes. You can ask Chris OR Josh, who rode in the back just trying to keep up. In fact, the ride to KFC was almost as intense as the Double Downs themselves. In
conclusion, the Double Down will completly dominate the lower half of your body with extreme prejudice. Iron stomach? Titanium stomach? DARK MATTER STOMACH??? You can't win. Just remember these words that were shouted by the KFC employee who took our three Double Down orders" "GIMME SIX FRIED CHICKEN BREASTS!!!!"

Here is a list of 10 awesome pre-death monologues that you TOO can repeat before you eat this abomination: READ ME

Colonic Holding Pattern

The bane of my morning commute existence: The Wheat Street/USC train crossing, at 6:29 AM. It's like it's reading my mind. If I leave early, the train is early. I f I leave late, the train is late.

Rode into work today to clear my mind of the flotsam and jetsam of the modern bicycle industry life and all I could think of was the Double Down. Couldn't focus. My mind was racing, like a hummingbird scuba diving in a barrel of espresso. A train downtown delayed me for a few minutes and its rambunctious, restless, rhythmic rumbling reminded me of my colon's own future rhythmic rumblings after this afternoon's Double "downing". Two shall enter the culinary octagon, but only one can leave, according to KFC's helpful pamphlet, "So You Want To Kill Yourself: How To Order and Eat A Double Down". I rode by the KFC in 3 Fountains around 7:15 AM and unbelievably, the doors were not open! Even more unbelievable, nobody was standing in line. No tents. No drum circles of Double Down enthusiasts, much like the Ribwich hippies from that Simpsons episode. Oh well, what's a few more hours wait???

Double Downer: Profiles in Courage

(NBC's "Manimal", now in High Definition, after "The Office")
There's nothing to write about today people. Absolutely, positively nothing. I had a quaint little tale of an encounter with a Copperhead while riding the beloved Jaqcues Lobster on the Palmetto Trail (long story short: mistook aforementioned Copperhead for stick and almost ran over it. Doubled back to examine the Copperhead and then suddenly remembered how deathly afraid I am of Copperheads and almost soiled my already sweat-soiled bibs with something a little more density, a little more colonular) but that is inconsequential. It matters not one wit.

Hawley carrying the new Pake six speed urban cruisers? Trifling, banal, jejune, frivolous (well actually, it's quite awesome as Pake has basically taken the Copenhagen-styled city bike and given it a few North American tweaks to make it street ready in American climes like Birmingham Alabama, Newark New Jersey, Stockton California and the always glamorous Batavia, NY for those sophisticates who must pedal in their latest tweed finery or seersucker ensemble).

What about the fact that at 1 in the morning, I received one of the strangest interrogative text messages ever written (And yes, I think WE all know the show was "Barney Miller" but why would The Rudeness ask such a question and why would The Blog be friends with somebody called The Rudeness and why does The Blog own what appears to be the first cell phone ever made?). Poppycock!

None of this matters because KFC unleashed the Double Down from its titanium, King Kong-like restraints upon a suspecting if not wary public. Josh and Chris Maret have promised to buy one with the Blog tomorrow. We shall consume them for lunch and ride the cosmic dream rainbow to lands and worlds only dreamed about... in song. Crank up the Floyd. Free laserium!

You'll Rue The Day You Missed Paris Roubaix

Thank the maker it's Friday. Last night's thunderstorms blew through "with tha quickness" (to borrow a snippet from the local vernacular) so hopefully the local trails aren't destroyed as The Blog has a hankering to ride some dirt on his new tubeless American Classic 29er wheels. Although with the slew of bogs littering the trails last weekend, one can only assume the worse for the trails after last night's rain. A road/dirt road ride may be in order? Or should those plans be chucked instead for "steady lounging" followed by "cold chillin" and a little Paris Roubaix viewing? Oh yes, the mother of all Classics is this Sunday and the smart money is on either Cancellara or Boonen. Boonen will be hungry for redemption (to steal a Versus tagline), but unless Cancellara's energon cube reserve is depleted or what's left of his human heart in his cyborg body suddenly has a Schwarzenegger like moment of clarity and quits the race in order to protect a teenage John Connors from a cyborg sent from the future, there is no way the Swiss Miss can lose. Here are some Paris Roubaix moving images with infernal rackets to dazzle the eyes and befuddle the mind. You have been warned:


Paris Roubaix 1981
Uploaded by blogdenikkos. -


Paris-Roubaix 1972
Uploaded by blogdenikkos. -

Here's a taste of some of the most explosive, manic, finger-cramping, mind-altering accordion playing you've ever heard...

Paris Roubaix à fond la caisse accordéon
Uploaded by aandre_danyel. -


paris roubaix
Uploaded by ralkoff. -

No Time For A Post!

We've been furiously building the soon-to-be released in house brand catalog today so post time has been at a premium. The Blog can only alert you to things of interest. First of all, Giorgio has done it again and listened to the masses (which could be farts, for you "Double Nickels On The Dime" fans). In his infinite wisdom, the Paul single finger E-Levers and the Royal Flush track crankset. Huzzah!Second item of interest, Rock Hill Spring Bicycle Classic pandemonium for you Rock Hillbillies and Queen City dandies. Joshie is considering doing the Friday night sprint contest. YES!!!

Crit-ique

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blogcast to bring you a few pics from the local TNWC. it was pollentastic! enjoy! (pics)

Grim Portents of Impending Stomach Death

During the winter, you may remember elevated internet-chatter levels of a rumored KFC creation called the Double Down. After consultations and several high level meetings with their legal staff, KFC have "doubled down" on the Double Down, have gone "all in" so to speak in the "world's worst idea" sweepstakes and are introducing this abomination to the entire nation. There's no turning back now, as of April 12th, the Colonel shall have his revenge upon us all, from beyond the grave... By the way, Cane Creek is offering up single Interlok headset spacers (2.5mm, 5mm, 10mm) in all their colorful glory for those of you needing that extra touch of "custom". These work with the patented (?) Interloks or non-interloks just in case you were wonderin'...

900 Year Old Jedi Seeks Same For "Just Hanging Out" and Possibly More, No Sith

Fare thee well...

Colin has started his Monster energy drink challenge this morning. We were going to update his status every 30 seconds but the office is a whirlwind of activity right now. Has anybody seen my TPS or JDS reports? Anyhoo, Colin has started off strong. He took a few healthy-sized gulps and appears to be focused and confident. His pupils are NOT dilated and his bowel functions seem to be operating "normally"...

"Total Eclipse Of The Heart" Flowchart

Have trouble remembering the lyrics/stanza form of "Total Eclipse Of The Heart"? Perhaps this will be of some service (courtesy of Hawley's administrative assistant). Good to see they got the Croon/Belt placement spot on. Gotta get this thing laminated and duct taped in the shower asap. For some reason, I always get hung up on "tired of listening to the sound of my tears", panic and end up on the chorus prematurely...

In other news, Colin and Michael play a particularly inspired yet destructive game of warehouse Jenga with empty 1181 helmet boxes. "Construct it to the heavens! Curse your oily hide, I want it higher, higher!!! I want it blotting out the SUN!!!!" was heard echoing throughout the shipping department.

A Word From Pearl Izumi

A Reminder Of Colin's Impending Visit To The ER; Cruiser Weather Update

A Feynman diagram of one way the Higgs boson (hypothetical massive scalar particle that may or may not be dating Heidi Montag) may be produced at the Large Hadron Collider. Here, two gluons decay into top/anti-top pair which then combine to make a neutral Higgs. Cue the Barry White:
Just to remind everybody, Colin has a date with destiny and quite possibly some sort of Castaneda-esque vision quest mixed with the event horizon of a black hole this Friday as he attempts to drink a 32 ounce of Monster energy slurry in under a minute... 5 minutes... 10 minutes? The Blog can't remember the original time agreed upon but we've seen Colin training all week with daily trips to local Mexican eatery la Fogata and local "chicken" eatery Zaxby's. His focus is razor sharp and his internal organs are battle tested. The Large Hadron super collider got cranked up again this week and as these words are typed, it's whipping protons to more than 99 percent the speed of light while producing 3.5 trillion electron volts per proton, very similar to what the 32 ounce of Monster energy drink shall be doing to Colin's gastrointestinal system. We have the technology, now we must embrace it!Colin, Post-Monster transfusion:For all of our friends in Northern states, a quick update on this week's weather. Sunny. Warm. Downright pleasant. Booyah! In your face (finally). Time for cruiser bikes to the grocery store...

Lunchtime cruiser team sponsored by our friends at Sta Tru wheels, with over 6 billion different cruiser wheel combinations to chose from (this is not a guarantee).

A Post Sees A Post: Palindrome Fail

Trivial office bets for assorted candy bars are the spice of life. They are what make those of a certain "animal" nature in the cycling industry just a little more "human"...

By the way, the post header image is a small sampling of a little parts line those in the know call Eleven81, THE only component ridden by THE original Mountain Khakis race team and THE only brand with the Troy Whelan "super-casual wall pose" seal of approval. But anyhoo, as we saw in yesterday's post, Josh's VINER road frame with matching Campy rear and fork dropouts (!) is ready for painting:

It's been sandblasted and primed by trained professionals. We were chatting yesterday about potential color schemes and Josh said all the componetry will be silver. THEN he pulls out a little bit of Italian trinketry known as a Campagnolo titanium Chorus seat post. The Blog knew the frame to be of a certain age and new the post to be of a certain size (27.2). "No way that thing fits" thought The Blog to itself. Then betraying its internal monologue, The Blog blurts out to Josh, "I shall wager a shiny new Snickers bar that your precious titanium post will be far too large to fit in the seat tube!" After his usual hemming and hawing, Josh took the bait and agreed to the wager. "This grift shall line my coffers with deliciousness at this dunderhead's expense"

The seat post in question:The seat tube in question:
The proof is in the photographic pudding: Well, we settled our wager this morning and sadly, it turns out Josh's Campy post does in fact fit his Viner frame and The Blog has been crowned with the Dunder laurel. Egads! It's too early in the week to lose a bet of this weight and import! Enjoy your Snickers while you can Josh, IT SHALL BE YOUR LAST!!!

Joshie's Single Speed Frame Needs Paint

Just a quick survey today. What color should Josh's single speed frame be? I suggested orange with blue lug accents, maybe paint the stars white? Josh raised an eyebrow at that one. Anybody got some ideas? And yes, this is the same frame The Blog found thrown away on the side of the road in Shandon (a Columbia neighborhood for those of you not from around here). It's been primed and needs paint desperately so Josh can ride it to work... everyday... for the rest of the year.