Thursday, April 28, 2005


Wicked cool links for wicked fun times: It will blow your mind. Scotty can tell a mean story when he isn't busy being such an animal. Everyone loves phobias, especially hypochondriacs. We all know what Bush thinks of North Korea (read: Axis of Evil, Outpost of Tyranny, etc.). Ever wonder what they think of us? Tons of crazy ads, wierd games and bizzare video clips See above, but better.

I promise I'll get around to the Late TST, Dairy Queen Death, Espresso Heart Attack one. Really. Stay Tuned. DT

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

So I'm Unreliable

And not too punctual with the updates. Such is life on the full-time college schedule.

Anyway. Leading the competition for the worst thing of the day (as reported by is the right-wing country/pop/shittymusic duo The Right Brothers. Oh man this is good stuff. Here's a tasty sample of some of the songs (I swear to god I am not making this up): You Can't Racial Profile, Tolerate This, It's My Money, Trickle Down, Dear Mr. Reagan, and the smash hit The Waffle House.
There's not much I can say about this that would sum it up better than thier own bio: "The music they make has been described as “a lethal weapon for conservatives”, “a moral booster for the troops and their families” and “the perfect tool for converting liberals to the right”. no artist has ever tackled the issues addressed by The Right Brothers. Topics on their albums include: the abortion debate, illegal immigration, taxation, Ronald Reagan, the melting-pot (or lack thereof), America’s right to defend herself regardless of what the rest of the world thinks, appreciation for our brave soldiers (past and present), political apathy, and more. The Right Brothers are in tune with today’s political issues and that is reflected in every word they write.

Wow. The perfect tool for converting liberals is a couple of talentless back-assward hicks who sing about Reagan and illegal immigrants? What!? Are these guys for real?

Is this some sick April fools joke? Go to, listen to some samples and you'll find the terrible answer.

So back to the reality-based world we go, and as I'm sitting here not working on whatever history paper or math project is due tommorow, the rest of the young goons on the team are packed into a foul-smelling van, 12 hours into the drive to Athens Georgia. Big Jase barely had time to unpack his bike before it was repacked and ready to roll out on I-84 for the next few days. Of course it's nice to be sitting here in a comfy chair in the college library instead of cramped in the stickerbus for 50 hours straight, but part of me is very bummed to be missing out. I'm a sucker for long cross-country burns and even more a sucker for reckless behavior in strange cities, but alas, here I am. Plenty of summer to go, and plenty of crazy road trips to enjoy.

Soon you'll all be regailed with an amazing tale about how we were late to TST, almost died of Dairy-Queen overdose and nearly gave Aaron a heart-attack with a double espresso. Stay tuned folks, I gotta get to Math... DT

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Memories of the last few weeks come in flashes with loose connections. So busy, no time to relax, no time to train, no time to sit down and write. Stepped off the homecoming plane straight into full-time work and full-time student responsibilities, then ran smack into the Bike Gallery sale and I'm still a little unsure of how it all turned out.


...was endlessly entertaining and likewise frustrating. It's a warehouse sale of bikes and crappy parts. What you see is what you get. No haggling is neccessary, we still won't lower the prices any more. All these things were abundantly clear to every unfortunate soul who walked through the doors, and yet no one seemed to pay any attention. "Do you have any bikes that are closer to the 50-100 dollar range?" No, man. Go to K-Mart. "Are you sure, not even in the back?" The back of WHAT exactly? This is a warehouse!! THIS IS THE BACK. "Okay, well do you think we could work something out to bring this 400 dollar one closer to a hundred?" This is when I smile politely and inside I'm going "get out of my store LIKE NOW!" and the mental image of me nocking over rows and rows of bikes and fenders and pannier racks as I run at top speed for the door, toward the light and my final escape... but no. The next person approached me, "Does this bike come with any clothing?"


5 days of this grind melt into one another, and suddenly it's all over. The last of the customers are still wandering around, but an hour and a half after closing time, we're not worried about customer convenience. Rows of bikes are re-aranged, tables stacked with components are carefully placed on the outside of corners, mechanics and salespeople rip through the warehouse at dangerous speeds, warming up for the festivities ahead.

We race $300 cruisers around slick concrete floors with reckless abandon, (damn the torpedoes) store-bikes destined for a showroom floor slide on beery puddles which appear mysteriously in every corner. This is an excercise in all-out intensity, in high speed handling on bikes never meant for more than 5 miles an hour, and the ability to accept your fate at the hands of those intoxicated fools ripping around next to you. The best way to beat your boss is to make sure he ends up sliding toward the wall of spectators on his back. The only way to win is to be ruthless and stupid.

The average blood-alchohol level rises and spectators become increasingly frenzied as the foot-down competition begins. Take an area about 10 feet square, put 15 people in the middle and the last one standing wins. Some call it circle of death, the rules say "don't talk about the rules." Just don't put your foot down and you win. Players crash to the ground in ugly piles of steel and aluminum, I survive thanks to a kid's size mountain bike and plenty of luck and cheerleaders. 4 left, but it's just me and Jay Graves now. A punk new employee versus the owner of Bike Gallery. A skinny bike racer versus a former BMX superstar, now turned cutthroat bussinessman. I had my money on Jay anyway. Things go smoothly untill I'm slammed into boxes of seats which come crashing to the floor, we power through, someone's yelling KILL over and over. Eventually my full-speed headbutts to the kidneys are my downfall as I throw myself off balance and down to the concrete. Jay is defeated in the final to an uproar, a cheer like you'd hear in an English soccer match, the crazed and rarely felt joy at seeing your boss take a fall.

Events continue long into the night. Skid contests, trackstanding, more racing, more drinking. By this time I've left, my only ride back home is heading out and I'm not one to miss the bus. Back to school in the morning, back to work after that. Hopefully back to racing soon, this work thing is getting to my head. DT

...and you thought I was done... HA. Been a while since I posted last, so I'll sum a bunch of stuff up real quick-like:

  • Passing of the Pope. Anyone who says they didn't like the latest John Paul is either a staunch Protestant or just didn't know much about him. I strongly disagreed with him on a few big issues, but I respect the guy for walking the walk. Ol' JP was a genuine leader and did all in his power (while he still had some) to help people in need. He was one of those guys who actually believed and practiced what he said, unlike most modern figureheads. Big ups to JP.
  • Michael Jackson. Now for the other end of the human spectrum. If we could stop paying attention to this twisted freak, that would be awesome. Granted he was a great entertainer 30 years ago, but now he's a lost and confused creature who doesn't need to be in the limelight.
  • Social Security. Still doomed.
  • Willamette Week wins the Pulitzer for investigative reporting. Awesome stuff right here. In this situation, The New York Times and The Oregonian were "The Man" and Niel Jaquiss from the WW proceeded to "stick it to the man" by fully scooping one of the biggest stories to come around in NW politics in a while, researching like a madman then writing a ball-busting story that prompted a full public apology from Niel Goldschmidt (sexual predator politician/power broker) and much gnashing of teeth from the Boregonian.
  • Boonen unleashes the fury. So this guy hauls off and smashes the best classics riders on the planet at the front, in the hills, over the cobbles on his way to victory in 2 ProTour classics in 2 weeks. Not only that, but the two hardest belgian classics on the entire calendar. Not bad for a "field sprinter." Tour of Flanders AND Roubaix? Are you for real?

Now I'm really done for the day. I promise. DT