I'm a garbage dog

and then there's Tom Waits. . .



and QOTSA covering Tom Waits

My friend Darren

Dance party

Mmmmm..... rock piles

Went and rode lifts today at deer valley. One of the trails there is the course for a professional downhill event. We rode the trail except for 3 places where the trail for mere mortals takes an easier route around the race track. The rest of the trail was ridable and fun with a few terrifying moments. (I made no attempt at the following depicted sections of so-called trail)

15 foot cliff you ride down or jump over...

8ish foot mandatory air (jump from where the guy is standing)...

and a gully full of rocks and logs.

And thank god for body armor, tumbling down rock piles has way fewer consequences. Especially when you are kind of wuss and don't like things that hurt.

Vote for Pedro

Or vote for John

I'm a Hellride semifinalist.

This year, applicants will be narrowed down to a field of about 32, who will then be voted by the internet public down to a final 8 (4 men, 4 women), who will then be invited to Downieville. They will then compete against each other, as well as Hellriders Weir and Lloyd, in a series of feats of strength (think "American Gladiators" meets "Jackass") to gain hopeful time bonuses for the following day's Hellride.

The Hellride itself will take in somewhere between 65 and 75 miles of prime high country riding, mostly singletrack, with anywhere between 12,500 and 15,000 feet of climbing. The contestants will race each other, as well as the pursuing wheels of Weir and Lloyd, in battle where attrition and willpower will feature as strongly as fitness and bike handling ability, in the hopes of inning a brand new Nomad, kitted out with SRAM and RockShox finest, valued at more than $5,500.

Attrition? I'm up for quite a flogging for a $5,500 bike. . . .

Here's my semi-corny video:

Ian?

Once-Great Competitive Eater Reduced To Hustling At 10-Cent Wing Nights

June 7, 2008 | Issue 44•23

BUFFALO, NY—It's 1:30 a.m. Chris Rierden breathes a beleaguered sigh as he counts a large wad of singles next to the dumpsters behind a local Hooters. Though you wouldn't know it to look at the haggard, sauce-covered 32-year-old, Rierden—who currently ekes out a living hustling unsuspecting locals in impromptu low-stakes chicken-wing-eating contests—was at one time the most promising competitive eater on the professional circuit.

But with one bad decision, that once-bright future went dark forever. Gone is the $85,000 home outside of Akron. Gone is the ESPN2 guest-commentator spot. Gone are the mid-range American cars, the weekend miniature-golf outings, and the decent-looking women.

Chris Rierden threw it all away.

the rest....... http://www.theonion.com/content/news/once_great_competitive_eater

White Linen Slogan

No idea where this is.