Saturday, August 25, 2012

Hey Ian, Where Have You Been?

I've been everywhere man JUST KIDDING this is not the time or the place to begin singing. I know everyone has their guilty pleasures. Most people choose to participate with these guilty pleasures... guiltily: whether it's doing karaoke to Donna Summer in your bedroom with the blinds shut while wearing a green and silver sequined shirt or silently watching Keeping Up With the Kardashians and being SO excited, these are things that most people tend to hide. Not me however.

I started with some lyrics. Most may assume - "OH, Johnny Cash, chill bro". Unfortunately now when I think of those lyrics I think of my Caribbean sister Rihanna. This is in no way an insult towards the great Man in Black, but guilty pleasures are guilty pleasures. Continuing with the woman vocalist theme, I bought the Lana Del Rey CD Born to Die for $1 at Best Buy. This set all sorts of current records for me: cheapest CD ever purchased, first pop CD purchased since cutting off my mullet, and first actual real-life CD purchased in, not to exaggerate, 18 years.

This has nothing to do with no blogging though. Most of my guilty pleasures involve blogging, so I'm S.O.L on that excuse line. Time for me to start blaming other people.

         <><><><><><><><><>   GUILTY PLEASURES <><><><><><><><><><><>

Starting last Friday, I did something absolutely absurd. I raced track bike-cycles. I'm an August velodrome person- I wait until everyone else has had three months of practice and then I begin to re-teach myself about not coasting while racing. I have a small confession to make. My track tactics are terrible. Really dreadful. Which means instead of trying to make these better, I just attack a lot and hope that by attacking I can somehow convince the race to feel more like a 95 mile road race with climbs rather than a 7 minute v02 interval.  Guilty! Last Friday was a pretty direct representation of this: scratch race, make it into breakaway, drive breakaway, get last out of breakaway.

Get really worried that I'd be first out in Elimination to Scratch, go to the front, ride the front, make the scratch race, lose the scratch race.

Then MADISON! Marymoor heard I was coming so they gave me a hand-holding race. I have certain rules about holding hands with teenagers, but Joe gave consent, so Logan and I took off on our adventure. This involved no tactics whatsoever except attacking the very second we got thrown in, every time. 

To celebrate our win, Logan tried to find eligible bacheloresses in the crowd. I stayed nearby to check IDs of any ladies enthralled by the diamond earrings and Spanish-climber necklace.

Ok, that's the update on last Friday. Moving forward. Thursday marked the day where I became an adult. It was actually a more important day for my good friends Jesse and Grant because it was their wedding day, but to make this more about me (the wedding was really all about me), this also marks the first of my friends to be getting married. This means that I am now an adult. I got to be a groomsman for Grant which mainly involved keeping the paparazzi away. He is track #1 you know. This was quite the excellent day, and also was a personal record for me of 14 hours straight of on my feet moving. Not even a break to blog, nap, get a massage, or imagine doing normal things! That's right, Thursday marked my day of being a normal human and not a serious bike racer bum. I wore a shirt that had to be tucked in to pants that had creases, I wore shiny shoes that hurt my feet, suspenders, a vest, a tie, little wrist jewels, swanky watch, etc etc etc etc.

The ceremony was good fun, but the reception was ooooh even better fun. Great music, lots of energized people, and I was willing to break it down. Eggo from Rideitlikeyoustoleit was there filming, and here's some of his footage of Marissa and I dancing:

BAM! Thursday night, DONE. Congratulations to Jesse and Grant!

This brings us almost up to speed. Having thrown myself into the track racing fire, I decided I might as well try my hand again at fixie pedaling. Again, tactics were not part of this equation. This included!!!!

Scratch race, breakaway, drive breakaway, 2nd to last out of breakaway. Improvement! #trackspeed

Another elimination to scratch? Sad. This time, I did the I CAN'T GET TO THE FRONT problem which meant I played the devil for almost 20 laps. Then, in a moment of accidental tactics, I played the WRONG tactic and all of a sudden was out, before the scratch race even started. Benny made sure to remind me that he has made it to the final of every miss-n-out/elimination/elimination to scratch since he was like, 16. While I watched the last 12ish laps of this bike festival, I chuckled to myself as everyone went harder than I had. I think that this may have been an accidental tactic.

Awkwardly riding alone at the VERY top of the track
Why was this an accidental tactic? The last race of the night was a 40 lap scratch race (that's right, 3 scratch races in one night. hmmm) and given the brisk-ness of our first two races, I knew that this one would be generally rapid. I attacked on many of occasions, and finally got the elastic to snap with maybe 18 laps to go and got away with two other riders. We got 1/2 lap up, became just myself and one other, and then we drilled it for the remainder of the race. The ending of the race involved me doing a 400 meter long sprint because I forgot about #tactics on Marymoor. The good news about this is that I had a monster gear on the bike, so by the time I actually got it up to a high cadence I only had 100 meters to go and was able to take the win. Let's look at some facial highlights:

I was going very hard and was quite thirsty. What I didn't realize is that I may have had a face-stroke because it appears that I had no control over the lower half of my jaw region.

This however does not compare to the intimidating sneer that THE Joe Holmes had back in the pack. Instead of covering attacks, he just had to look at people and that killed any moves. I may have won the last race, but Joe wins the face competition.

So after two weeks of careful note taking and analysis of advanced track racing tactics, I've determined that when using them I lose miss-n-outs and when I race like I don't understand what's happening I have more pain in my legs region the next day.

This means I attack next Friday.


Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Not to Brag, but...

I went ahead and did it. I solved one of the mysteries of life. The following is a result of what happens when you push a man into a corner.

(note: I am very grateful for dental insurance and that I am able to get my teeth cleaned on a semi-regular basis)

Yesterday I went to the dentist. Some of you may remember my previous experiences with dentisti (plural of dentist) but all that scientific article really showed is ways to avoid those general uncomfortable moments while in the torture chair. I never really investigated the primal, basic, and downright crafty restraining methods used by dentist practitioners these days. Don't you ever wonder? How do we stay so sedated and so still while we let random "experts" assault our mouths with deadly weapons? We definitely are not so quick to allow other random citizens to visit our mouths with ice picks, chainsaws and pressure washers are we?

Would you let that guy clean your teeth?

There is good news. I have figured out this system, I have outsmarted this bounty, and I have uncovered the secrets that these "DDS" use to con innocent bystanders into using their gypsy remedies and salves. Sidenote, DDS stands for something crazy. They try and trick you into thinking that its dictionary definition is "dentisti of dentist stuff" or something like that, but really it means "dangerous diabolical psychopath". They get away with the psychopath because that word sounds like it starts with an S.

Here is how these dentisti of dentist stuff get away with their sick and twisted hobbies. It is a two-piece puzzle. Which on the surface sounds shockingly simple, and when you break it apart it really is. The dentisti of dentist stuff and their drone-like assistants sedate you in TWO WAYS:

1) First, they sit you down in those bed-chairs. You think to yourself "dang, these are chairs, they are somewhat soft. I'm going to keep my legs to each side and keep my feet on the ground, just to keep myself grounded". So you sit there, and then all of a sudden assistant robot 1 pushes some magical button and you start to lightly recline, slowly and smoothly with the purr of a motor whispering into your ears at your future laziness. At this point, there seems to be nothing that you can do. As your back and head drop towards the ground at a rate of [one dream : one volt of motor strength], your feet are tricked into moving themselves to the foot rests of this reclining coffin bed.

Here's the bloody confusing part! These chairs ARE NOT THAT COMFORTABLE but somehow the mechanism of the motor and... something else... trick you into burrowing yourself into these chairs and slowly losing control over your thoughts and fears.

How does this happen?

2) It's so simple. There are all sorts of interrogation tricks used by angry and urgent people in movies. These included, but are not limited to: water, noise, anger, drugs, darkness, and BRIGHT LIGHTS! That's right concerned people, the dentisti of dentist stuff get you in the exact mindframe they want (completely lackadaisical) by shining those light towers into your eyes at just the right angle. This is how uncomfortable chairs become disturbingly comfortable. This is how ice picks and pressure washers become hands of angels. This is how "mint" polish actually tastes like mint.

That's right. The spotlight isn't for "better view of teeth". Dentisti of dentist stuff have little flashlights on their glasses anyways. THOSE are how they see better. The light tower is to hypnotize you into submission.

I can't just tell you about this and then let you be on your own for trying to figure how to prevent yourself from being simply a cadaver on your dentisti of dentist stuff's table. Here is how I prevent this from happening:

1) I spend ALL day sitting in a comfortable chair before going to the dentist. Muscle memory is a powerful tool, so I try and spend as much possible time on the day-of trip to my nightmares to remind my body just what I find comfortable. This changes for everyone, so if your idea of comfort is to hang yourself from a chin-up bar by your ankles, be my guest. Just as long as you are COMPLETELY relaxed and comfortable before heading off to the DDS.

2) Now that you're actually comfortable, the next step is to provide your own protection tool. Some people carry mace around for protection and some even have pocketbook pistols. These don't do you any good at the dentist, but I have my own protection that is imperative I bring along. I suggest you do the same. To protect against the light tower of seduction, bring your own sunglasses. These are special sunglasses. You need to get the darkest lenses that you can find, and then spraypaint over the lenses. You should not be able to see out of these glasses. The robot assistant will try and make you trade. They will ask you on at least 4-8 occasions to use their glasses, but you must refuse. Say that you are terrified of eye diseases. Say that you were born with these sunglasses stuck to your face. Say that similar to Joe Dirt, you had them put on your face at a young age and they became fused to your eye sockets. Whatever it is, do not take these off. YOU ARE SAFE WITH THESE LENSES!

And that folks is really it. Simple deception and preparation tools can keep you safe from mind-control at the dentist. Easy!

Also, when looking for pictures, I found this.

This is terrifying. Infinity X larger??

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

What's With the Waving Situation?

Here's this conundrum that's worked its way through my mind for many of months. Is it still an alliteration if around every other algorithm of analysis of abbreviations is about the same? Not so sure how they work, and the other thing that I'm not so sure how it works is etiquette of the wave.

I don't mean the wave at baseball games. Everyone knows you only do that when your team is winning and on offense at the time, but realistically that never happens because there's that one drunk guy sitting in the upper deck in left field who decides that it needs to happen NOW. I mean the wave on two wheels. The one hand off the handlebars, gentle moving side-to-side motion to acknowledge someone else on two wheels with a set of handlebars.

There are three categories here:

1) Bicycle
2) Motorcycle
3) Scooter

Believe it or not,  I am educated in all three of the above aspects of the two-wheeled wave. Let me explain.

Motorpacing is the ish. I often ride behind the scooter to replicate racing, to get a speed workout, etc, etc, etcetera. (That is how I tried to spell out etc. Blogger tries to auto-correct that as "tetrameter", which most know as a line of verse consisting either of four dipodies or four metric feet). The problem with motorpacing is that this is not something that you can do alone. You need a friend to sit on that scooter and drive it. Here comes the ace of spades. In order to have someone drive for you, you often need to drive for THEM . This is where I get my scooter credibility.

Something that I've noticed while riding the scooter is the immense respect for motorized two-wheeled vehicles. I don't mean respect from other motorists in cars. What I mean is that OTHER motorized two-wheeled vehicles are very respectful of you. Regardless of the fact that our scooter maxes at out 36mph, I will always get a wave from my new potential friends- Harley or Vespa.

That's right folks, while driving the scooter I become instantly part of the Harley crew. I roll past and get a head nod or a wave. I roll through town in a PACK of Harleys who have moved to the side so I can ride next to them. Who would've thought that the most stereotypically meanest, grubbiest, leather jacket wearing, razor blade shunning, tattoo ink using, ape hanger bar cruising people in the world would acknowledge me, the guy on a scooter with some bike rider in spandex following close behind?

That's right. These guys-

Acknowledging me on the scooter-

Finally, I went on a ride today and saw at least 17 bicycle riders. I waved to every single one of them. I got a total of 1/2 a wave back. I call this half a wave because I'm fairly certain the person was just blowing their nose, but it was an arm movement soooooo.

I don't get it. Why do these guys wave?

But regular ol' bicycle riders don't?

Help me with this one Seattle.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Huge Apologies

I'm unbelievably sorry that it has been so long. I've been so caught up in business ventures (G-shock sponsor search) that time flew by and I have not written in awhile. Perhaps if I had another G-shock watch, time wouldn't just fly by on me. I could keep track of it better.

I'm not one to make excuses but I've been really busy. You may ask how. You may wonder what I do besides sleep and ride my bike. The answer is, really, not much. However, this week I've been desparately in search of a job. That's right folks, I've tried to put myself out into the real world and get a job that gives me money in exchange for little amounts of work.

Let me specify. I wrote a post for craigslist in search of a job. The link is here:

Since you are lazy, here is how I chose to advertise myself:

Hello! Times are hard for everyone, and this is the solid truth. One should never generalize. However, work is light and I have several excellent skills and qualifications that I know would be the perfect fit for your business. My times of drifting around, trying to live off of funds from my underwear model career (I am not past doing 100% of my work in just underwear) is coming to a close. It's time for me to plant my feet for awhile, metaphorically speaking because I have extreme ADD. I can not sit still for longer than 55 seconds. I hope that this doesn't hinder our future business partnership. I also wouldn't turn down an equal share in your business! Here's why:

1) I have excellent people skills. I'm straight shooting, honest, and never tell a lie. I strongly believe that customers are nothing but pawns in a game and I should crush their spirits and minds to mold them to do what I want. Think of the positive net gains for your business!

2) I'm skilled with television, internet, and ordering pizzas. Expect me to hone those skills on the job. By allowing me my freedom with tasks and duties, I will be more effective when I set out to work.

3) As previously mentioned, I look great in Hanes underwear. For a couple extra dollars, I'm willing to wear Fruit of the Loom.

4) I have no problems firing other employees for you. I know, you're the boss. It puts you in a tough situation when you have to get rid of one of your own. I am willing to put myself in that position. Consider it "taking out the trash". Except don't expect (I'm also a master of words) me to take out the actual garbage. I don't do physical labor.

5) Need to cut costs? Yes, I know that hiring another employee doesn't help finances. PERHAPS you should reconsider. I have a unique skill set: One where I can analyze budgets, look through receipts, and study special figures. These skills allow me to look upon finances with an unadulterated view. This view on your company has no boundaries. I WILL FIND the most efficient way to save you money.

6) I have a profound memory. Have a lunch meeting? I will remember it for you. Fire your secretary. Or better yet, hire me, have me fire him/her, then tell me about your lunch date.

7) I know how to use Microsoft Word.

8) I'm good for office morale. If someone is sad, I'll comfort them. After firing them. Like I said, I have excellent people skills.

Thank you in advance for your time. I believe that I am the perfect fit for your company, private business, or home entertainment.

Please respond with your interest and I will include a resume with my follow-up. 

That is what I put on craigslist.

Ok, small personal story. Some of these aren't really in my skill sets. For example, I have nothing against Fruit of the Loom. I was merely trying to demonstrate the crazyness of people and I hoped that this resume would earn some exciting responses. Boy, was I wrong.

Of the ten responses that I got, 3 were for personal assistant jobs, 2 were for housecleaning, 3 were spam, 1 was for web-based advertising, and 1 was funny.

This is wacky. I was actually offered 6 real jobs. Well, they at least seem to be real. Unless "are you available to run errands" is code for something else.

Here is the funny response:

I was expecting much more along these lines.

Here comes the social experiment! I put a slightly more serious resume up (


I will be brief. I am a 22 year old college student searching for work to help pay for my schooling.

I have an AA degree and am three years into a Bachelors degree. I am studying Communications and Spanish. Although not fluent in Spanish, I am proficient in speaking, listening, and writing the language.

I am looking for work that allows me to pursue my athletic and academic dreams. These dreams do not allow me to have very flexible hours, and I will never be able to work the weekends. I am a hard worker and will make the most of my time when working.

I enjoy writing, problem-solving, and learning new skills. I am skilled with computers and other electronics.

If you would like to know more, please contact me and I will provide a full resume.

Thank you in advance. 

NO RESPONSES! Not even spam.

What does this tell you?!?!?

I'm going to go train now, and stick with bike racing resumes for hopefully the rest of my life. Or maybe the Onion will hire me?