mad props to Humberto Cavalheiro

Next to Acacio Da Silva, this could be Portugal's greatest cyclist; ever...!!!

http://www.americanroadcycling.org/Humberto/index.htm

as Humberto himself might say, (even though this is Spanish, not Portuguese)
"montala como que site la robaste!"

or

as Robert Maye might say,
"Fahr als ob' du es gestohlen hast!"

Opus of Dopeness

Oh scrabble!
(Scrabble is a good puppy name. Puppies make good scrapple.)
Why has I gnot bin on tha PLOG? Cause of gnot hafting internet, succkkxz!
Butt! they's good news. The sale of my seven has produced sufficient fundz that I can knot only move into -=THA EMBASSY=- and make rent w/o suckin' dick, BUT ALSO i got the bikes. totally fitting better than the last one, it is rad to perceive it. Since it was on tha T-R-K to the K-R-D-TK-R-T, i's been RIDING IT AS THOUGH I HAVE STOLEN IT, OUT!

P.S. Fuck voles, moles, and rats. We are moving to Plan S(hotgun).

Helmets, Rye/Fescue, and Evisceration

a quick shoutout to gregor mendel...! he is madly working with Dr. Ferrari on a genetically modified vole/mole/weed resistance strain of super grass for my lawn... if this does not work, scootre has volunteered to clean the guillotine after each new kill... you know what to do, now grow your lawn like you stole it....!!!!

Peep tha whole scene

Observe tha new link, chowdertrousers: The Bacon of the Month Klub. From now on, this will grace tha linkz sejktion. I will give a laudatory permanent message on the blog to anyone who eider a) buys me a bacon of the month club subscription (addressed to BikeBeat) or b) gets me in contact with or buys me a gourmet raisin of the month club subscription.

I Got Dem Ole Hedcheez Blues Agin

Damn doggs, it's been a while. The bullshit reason is that I spent so long getting ready for the shen-doah, but it was probably more just i forgot. AN THEN at the shendow I was movin' along on a doonhill, and all of a suddren to my surprise I was totally on the ground, bleeding. (I am told that) my front wheel washed out and I went ass-over-duodenum for several meters along the trail before crashing down to earth, making splashy rock-to-dome contact. I got babyheaded. So, my dome was in stitches for a week atter'wards. The long story short, the meds were dope, and the doctor who cleaned the rock out of my domium used a "Herr Doktor Thirsty" tube like at the dentist to suck up all the blood and rock and iodine. HO DAMN that's grossy-nasty! So he was all tuggin' at my hedd, and so my head is rocking very slightly on tha gneck, and H.D. Thirsty is all "schleck!" "schleck!" It was heave-tronic!
Then on Thursday I pulled my stitches out, in keeping with the grand and venerable spirit and traditions of the sport. dope!
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