Killer....

My friend Joe is always after me to get on a bike that he sells and rightfully so, he always helps me out, so I should ride something that he sells. After seeing pictures of this, I could get into a carbon Giant. That thing is bad ass. I bet George is pumped to be on bike that is that cool after all of those years on T-Wrecks.

Lucky Dog....

Last week, my wife and I went for a bike ride. It was the first time that just she and I have been able to get out this year, or last for that matter. Since having kids, it has become a less common occurrence than it used to be, but we are trying to make time to ride together more. We used to ride once or twice a week together years ago, even going so far as to sit on trainers side by side in the basement over the winter, so it is pretty cool that we are able to get out on the road again. I was looking forward to our ride I have to say.

We went out, cruising slow, rolling along and chatting, actually having fun on the bike. This is not something that one becomes accustomed too on most of the rides that I do. Even when I invite the O.D. on an easy ride, he is trying to go too fast, so I was certainly enjoying the change of pace. It was nice to actually enjoy riding, without concern for heart rate zones, power files or where we could find deer at.

We were rolling in toward Newburgh from Chandler, when a white Pitbull came charging toward us. Thinking quickly, I maneuvered between my wife and the dog, trying to get her out of the way.

I am of course a gentleman.

As the dog got closer, there was nothing but large white teeth showing. They appeared to be freshly sharpened based on the razor edges and gleaming caps. It appeared that he had what was left of a Sidi emblem on his back molar, so I knew that he had killed before, he had taken down a fellow cyclist. He saw me and knew that he would not have to eat again until Spring with this kill. He had declared war.


As he approached, now inches from my heel, I knew it was time to react. I decided to go all Hunter Smith on him (For you tards out there who don't follow football, that is the punter for the Indianapolis Colts. He can knock some serious hang time out of the pigskin, which is a football for all of you tards still reading).

I started planning my attack.

First I was going to drop kick his jaw, which I suspected would send him flying back into his yard. Then I planned on the cyclo-cross dismount, letting my bike roll into the ditch, so that I could quickly grab the dog while he was stunned. I was going to use a massive headlock/choke hold on him and occasionally dunk his head into the water in the ditch, while telling him that he was my bitch. After that, I was going to stand up and hurl him across the road. While he lie there wondering what the hell just happened, I was going to rip the dog's owners mailbox post out and beat the tar out of him. I couldn't decide if I was going to fold him up and stuff him in the mailbox or use the spare tube that I had and tie him to the stump of the mailbox post to show my fellow cycling brethren that we can fight back.

Then my wife squirted water on the dog and he ran.

He is lucky she got between us cause he was going down..........

From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark

Help Save the World

Team E'ville

Ladies & Gentlemen:
Introducing Team E'ville....the new kits are in. There is already interest in a re-order, so let me know if you are interested in getting something.

Holy Smokes! LeMond's TT secret published!

This just in!

Recent events have indicated that Tom Boonen was working with LeMond to get ready for the Tour.

Turns out Greg thought there was no way to win in '89, so he got all jacked up on the white funny powder and figured he would role into Paris easier than the Germans did. Come to find out, when you are all hopped up, you get a little hyper. He thought that he was just taking it easy, strolling into to Paris looking forward to a Bill Clinton like night with interns, hookers, Gina Gershon and what ever else he could land. In the end he was so whacked that he went faster than a Peugeot and won the tour, all because of the funny powder training plan.

Boonen talked to Greg about what to do for the Tour, because in every doping trial ever they call to talk with Greg according to him, and was advised that Cocaine is not on the banned list outside of competition. With that, Tomke felt that he was all good and got whacked out of his mind with visions of Green Jersey's dancing in his head (and images of Gina Gershon).



From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark

Perspective

I have been kicked around by all kinds of people on bikes. I have been beaten by guys who should not beat me, as well as those who have no trouble doing so. I usually can tell the difference between the good ones and the bad ones. I have a vast history of receiving ass whippin's on a varying scale.

While the



can dish out some destruction. He is not at the level of a guy who can race with Pros. Sorry, Punisher. You are a pimp, but not an uber pimp.

Jinglehammer got invited to race at Nature Valley. The one with real Pros. Guys who will one day be his peers. Kick their ass hammer.









From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark

G-Man...... Doing the lords work

As I have mentioned in a previous post, G-Man and I have found a cause that we can unite behind. I have been fairly busy with work and life, but G-Man is doing his part, helping make the world a better place. I was able to take a minute the other day to conduct a brief interview with him to analyze his progress.

The Enmark: So G-Man, how has the volunteer work with Save the Ta-Ta's been going? Is it as fulfilling as you had hoped?

G-Man: It has been crazy! Once I found this great cause, I knew that I had to rally behind it. I really took a step back to figure out where I could have the most immediate impact. I decided to head to Blue's Martini Lounge and offer my expertise. I used my incredibly acute natural Ta-Ta instincts, which are almost ninja like, to find the girl who needed the most help, so to speak. I can help those with silicone, but it is a difficult process and I wanted to make the most immediate impact. It took 3 hours to assess those DD's. I have carpel tunnel now, but I can assure you that she is currently cancer free!

The Enmark: That must have been quite an experience! You have already begun helping people.

G-Man: It was quite an experience. The first time, I was brought to tears. I mean, I can't believe they fall for this...err, it is so great to get to help people in need.

The Enmark: Some of your opponents think that you are not a certified health professional and that your "diagnosis" is not sound medical advice. What do you say to them?

G-Man: I have studied Ta-Ta's my whole life! Not only that, I am compelled to help. I am committed to this being my legacy. All in all, I know Ta-Ta's.

The Enmark: So you think that your detractors are full of it?

G-Man: I am doing the lords work. It is my calling and I will perform this service until I am gray and old.

From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark

Makes you wonder?

The T-Rent asked for some help selling his rig that he stacked it on a while back. I offered to help him out, knowing that he is a bit inept when it comes to bikes, taking them apart and so on.

What I didn't know is he is also inept at using a rag on them. I am not sure that welding the parts onto the bike could have bonded them on any tighter than the grime that was holding them in place. I found this discerning, knowing that T-Rent is smart enough to know better.

Whit told me more than once that you can't win on a dirty bike. This is a guy who has won more races than most of us will ever start, so I figured he knew what he was talking about. I would train with him all spring and his bike would look like it had been smeared in dog shit the entire time. He would not be able to get out of his own way on rides and both he and his bike looked horrific. Then, the weather would turn, he would show up on what used to be a bike smeared in dog shit, now gleaming and sparkling clean and promptly kick the shit out of everyone. That bike would always be clean while he was raging. Once it started getting dirty again, I knew the pain and suffering was close to stopping.

So back to T-Rent. He always bitches about his lack of results, but he never has a clean bike. I think that there is a correlation here. I decided to dig deeper, to try to get to the root cause of problem. How could a bike racer let their race equipment end up looking like this? Even the Punisher says if you can't be pro you should look it. I was getting concerned that Whit might not want this secret to get out. Maybe I am spilling the beans on something that shouldn't be made public?

I had to take my research farther. I decided to look into T-Rent's family background. Everyone blames everything on that anyway, so I figured it made sense to start there. I dug up this picture of he and his sister and decided to leave well enough alone.



I will clean the bike up and sell it, without asking any additional questions.

From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark

The Blue Coats

Anyone in this country who has ever taken a history class can remember that our forefathers had a problem with the Red Coats. The British had tyrannical rule over the colonies and it took a massive tea party to right the wrong and set us on our way to independence. It took a rebellious bunch, with panache and unheralded vision to make us into our own nation. They hated the Red Coats and rose up and defeated them.

The officials at the USCF have taken on the nickname, the Blue Coats, primarily for their greater than thee, this is a real sport attitude. Everyone knows that kids ride bikes to get away from their house and experience freedom while they are growing up and eventually they get cars and make Arabs rich. Adults riding bikes are stuck somewhere in between, but are still trying to get out and experience some freedom. We race around pretending we are kids again. It is not to be taken seriously, especially by anyone who takes on the role of officiating grown adults riding bikes. There were no officials in sandlot baseball and it usually worked out. Other than a way to develop cool shit with carbon, bicycle racing is pretty much a kids game that adults can play to escape life for a little bit.

I recently had a run in with one of the Blue Coats. I have not been riding or training as much recently, so I wasn't confident that I could keep up with the other "kids". I have not purchased a racing license, so I am theoretically a "citizen" racer. I decided to do a "training" race while on a business trip recently since I was in town and it was convenient. A "training" race is a pretend bike race, not to be confused with real bike races. So to catch you up, it is grown adults, pretending to be kids again doing a pretend race. Once again, not something to be taken seriously.

In order to do the pretend race, I had to purchase a license for one day. I had decided to do the "B" race which was not the fastest pretenders doing the "A" race, but the second fastest pretenders. There was also a "C" race, which is for new riders. I did not feel like I should be in the new rider race, so I asked if I could do the 30+ B race and not do the C race. That was fine with the promoter, but not with the Blue Coat. Apparently, 15 years of supporting the USCF and having a license is not enough. I was relegated to citizen status just like that, no check for a license, no category racing.

I am still perplexed on how I did not fit into a race that was relegated by an age category when I am the correct age range for the event? Must be Blue Coat math, similar to Bush's fuzzy math.

It just goes to show, if you get a coat, no matter if it is red or blue, you can no longer operate with any cognitive thinking process and must try to oppress those around you.

From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark

PIMP!

If you ever wondered what a pimp looks like.....it is not T-Rent. Although his purple suit surely help his cause. His ho's step back when he raises his pimp hand, but he is not the real deal.

If you want to know what a pimp looks like, then look no further than Jens. That is true pimpness.



Good thing that the Punisher won't wear purple. He might try to mix the street pimp and Jens, which could cause some major confusion on group rides.

From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark

Midgets

You know you are bordering on midget status when your bike does not come up past the trim line on your truck. It barely gets to the two tone line on the super truck. Don Ricardo must have picked up a bike for Carter, cause this thing looks little. I can't quite figure out how the training wheels attach, but I am sure he will get them on there.

From the island of E'ville,

The Enmark