Monday, April 13, 2009

Angering the Cycling Gods

I'm not sure what I've done, but somehow I seem to have pissed off the mighty mountain biking gods. How do I know this? Well, today all team members received an e-mail from team manager Big "you've already used the Big Gay Al joke about a thousand times" Al saying that all of our tasty SRAM bits are in. Except for my stuff and one other teammates'. Just so we're clear, everything showed up for a team of roughly 70 riders except for me and Matt. Apparently I've been a bad boy and Matt's obviously been snorting Dumonde while lubing some other bike's rear end. Now that I'm thinking about it, it could be the fact that I did naughty things to on jack hammer this weekend. Observe:

ttttt-eeeeeee-lllllllllll-llllllllll mmmmm-ee wwww-hhhhhhh-eeeeeen yoooooo-uuuuuu wwwwwaaaaaa-nnnnnnn-ttttttt ttttttt-ooooo gggggooooo!
We also heard the other day that all of the team Salsa nuggets (hey, what do you want, I already used "bits" and I couldn't think of anything else) are on the slow boat from China and should be here sometime in the next millennium. When my beloved Selma finally lands on American soil I'll be sitting pretty with a sweet pair of Ergon grips, some, but not all, of my SRAM bits and nothing else. I guess it might be time to finger out the rest of my build. Who am I kidding? I'm still trying to figure out the rest of our HOUSE build. Selma, my little hussy, you'll be half dressed for quite some time. Hmmmmm, me likey what me thinky.


Big Bikes said...

We were talking in the car on the way to Hop Brook about how Jack-Hammering might be the only possibly cross-training for preparing your hands and arms for the abuse of mountain biking.

We'll see how hard you rock the shit this year. You just might start a training trend.


rick is! said...

maybe with time it would help but the blisters and bruised palms didn't feel too spiffy the next day.