Before the fun-making commences, I’d like to genuinely congratulate a couple of friends on amazing rides at today’s Elite Road Nationals ITT. I spent the entire day checking Twitters like a confused American President, calculating approximate finishing times based on the published start list and texting people the instant I thought they might be done, and stalking Facebook like a…um…creepy graduate student. Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for the rockstars:
Maura Kinsella (Webcor), 3rd in the U23 Women
Phil Mooney (Webcrawler Cycling), 4th in the Elite Men
Ryan Parnes (AltaVista), 8th in the Elite Men
Parnes was beaten by Jesse Moore (Cal Giant), but I refuse to call Jesse a friend because I find his ridiculous ability to climb and time trial insulting to my way of life.
I’ll continue stalking the internets over the next few days of Nationals racing, so if you get an eerily well-timed text message from me, it only means I care about you. Not that I’m watching you from afar.
As I may have mentioned previously, I traveled to the Tour de Nez with photographer extraordinaire Ronnie Lenzi, which means several things: 1. I was allowed to play with camera equipment worth more than Max Jenkins’ professional contract (OK, that was a terrible example, since it probably doesn’t exclude those disposable Kodak cameras you can buy in line at the grocery store), and 2. I was given access to pre-production proofs of her photographs, most of which never make it past her meticulous quality control department.
Incidentally, the stuff that Ronnie doesn’t post on her site makes for excellent blogging, and the long-lensed camera that she lent me revealed that I have a voyeuristic streak. I invite you to join me at the intersection of the two.
Here we have some footage of Steve Reaney and his harem of largely underaged young men. You have to wonder about a guy who surrounds himself with a bunch of better-looking, younger guys and dresses them up in matching outfits.
I managed to snap a few candid photographs (the facial expressions are priceless) before the shutter noise aroused suspicion, at which point I was brutally attacked by the Naked Mole Rat (his identity revealed at last!).
Typically, Reaney’s eunuchs conduct themselves stylishly. However, the newest addition to Reaney’s entourage has a lot of learning to do. John Bennett, who I’ve mentioned previously, was spotted wearing his kit more than three hours prior to the start of the P/1/2 race at Northstar and remained in his fruity, sweaty chamois through the entire dinner/after-party. I estimate a total festering time of about seven hours, and the race was only 90 minutes long.
If he doesn’t succumb to a heinous bacterial disaster, I bet John will be beaten for his fashion gaffe.
Earlier in the weekend, I found this house in Sparks, NV. I thought nothing of the whole getup until I saw the internally-lit, pinwheel wielding, inflatable Uncle Sam. He wants you.
If I was a terrorist, I’d decorate my house just like that. No one would ever guess.
Finally, here’s the scene at the most recent Alto Velo Club BBQ, held on Monday.
That’s a lot of beer, more Clean Bottles than you can shake a stick at, and one very confused Frenchman. The DARE shirt is there for irony.
That reminds me…for reasons that are not particularly relevant to this post, I recently found myself with an urgent need to conceal adult beverages. I saw this as an opportunity to test the limits of the Clean Bottle’s cleanliness. In two independent experiments, I clearly demonstrated that neither vodka nor beer could withstand the Bottle’s double-ended design.
Clean Bottle gets my stamp of approval, for whatever that’s worth. I doubt that the company will approve of such off-label use.