MMP

Girls don’t dump men that drill em’ good.

From time to time, I like to tune into the HTML abortion that is projo.com so I can fuel up on my Rhode Island news.  We don’t have the racism, nepotism and government corruption that the folks in good ol’ RI do, and I miss it.  There are only so many feel-good stories I can read in the Colorado news before I really get the hankerin’ for some east coast journalism.

Last night after my bike ride I decided to dip in on projo.com to see what was going on this week in Lil’ Rhody, one of the headlines was so poorly constructed and the imagery such a terrible fit that I honestly thought it was a joke.

Here’s the headline…

Somebody take a look at the headline and the photo.  Does that crowd look thrilled to you?  To me, it looks like there’s 8,300 soaking wet people listening to a musician that more than likely has shit his own pants more than once in the past 30 days.

Thrilled is not the word I would have chosen for the headline, nor would I have used such a shit-tastic photo.  Hell, look at the gentlemen in the 2nd row, all the way to the right in the red-shirt.  He’s so thrilled that he’s drilling his hands into his armpits in a futile attempt to hold in his intense excitement for Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson or John “Cougar” Mellencamp… Or, maybe he’s just conceling the gun that he’s going to use to blow his own brains out.

Either way, great job Projo.

Wow.

Epilepsy Warning: This could cause the sweetest seizure you’ve ever had.

Lil’ update:  Turns out Etienne de Crecy is coming to Denver on July 31. I’m going. If you’d like to tag along, just hit me up.

I was just riding my cruiser bike around the new neighborhood tonight, managed to encounter an amazing sunset.  So, what’s any self-respecting web dork to do? Grab your iPhone and snap a pic.

A few weeks ago, Cousin Ryan called me up and said that he had entered me in something called the “Midnight Classic” in downtown Denver. I wasn’t really sure what the hell it was until I did some online snooping. After some Google searches and an extensive amount of page-views I learned that it was a 10 mile cruiser ride that draws thousands of folks from the area.  Count me in, except for one minor problem… I don’t have a cruiser bike.  You can’t exactly show up to an event like this with a full carbon race bike, clipped into your pedals while decked out in spandex and have a leisurely cruise.

To remedy this, I headed to my local bike shop with the hopes of finding the ideal cruiser bike for this occasion.  After some failed attempts and an underwhelming inventory (I guess cruisers are popular to buy in the spring) I found my diamond in the rough.  Here she is, my brand new Schwinn Classic SS.  Her name: Large Marge.

Man, I’m a sucker for those whitewalls.

Armed with my new cruiser bike I patiently awaited the event only to have my cousin bail out a couple hours before it kicked off. Apparently he was too tired from his 60+ mile MTB race that day to ride around Denver at midnight.  To his credit, 12:00 AM is around 2 hours past his bedtime. Man, it’s got to suck going to bed right as the street lights are warming up.

I wasn’t going to drive down to Denver and do this thing alone, what fun would that be? Should I have scrapped the entire event?  Fuck no, I bought a brand new bike just so I could do fun things like this.  Why would I want to miss out?!

I immediately hit up my buddy Jay, he’s got a sweet cruiser bike called “Rust Bucket” that he pieced together from spare parts, duck tape and good intentions.  After explaining the event he was in.  We loaded the bikes on the roof of his car and headed down to Denver.

Locked and loaded. Down to Denver.

The ride was amazing. The streets were closed off, there were thousands of folks having a great time cruising around, we saw every imaginable style and make of bike and folks along the sidelines were cheering and pouring beer &  liquor down your throat at every possible moment.  Jay and I managed to stay sober for the entire ride despite some of the crowd’s best efforts, that’s not to say that we didn’t have an ale or two in our hands for a couple of the miles.

The big finish. Fives in the sky.

Jay and Rust Bucket doing the Atlas / fist-pump celebration on the finish line.

I immediately spiked Large Marge to the ground after this photo was taken.  Oops, guess I was a little to carried away in the moment.

Many thanks to Ryan for bailing out last minute and Jay for sliding in and crushing the ride with me.  Everything worked out perfectly and we’re planning on bringing a gigantic crew down next year to make things even more mischievous.  Also “muchas gracias” or whatever is most appropriate Spanish term may be to the folks at Chipotle for covering the entry costs. I’ll buy a burrito or two from you this year or something…

MMP is back. Technical glitch, me being busy, moving, summer. You know how it goes. Software has been upgraded, I can mobile post now. It’s going down.