Surly bikes

If I wasn't balance-deficient, and could ride a two wheel velocipede, I'd consider getting a Surly...

II was watching some intense LPGA (i.e.girly golf) while riding my Schwinn recumbent exercise bike.

During the commercial break a very clever ad for American Express was shown:

It showed bunch of happy faces made by accident in a normal house. For example, it showed an iron's electric chord laid across a shirt on an ironing board. The buttons from the shirt made the eyes, and the chord made the smile.

I looked for the commercial on YouTube so I could send it to everyone I know, but, luckily, couldn't find it.

However, it struck me: If the said marketers knew a guy who, at one time, carried a badge of anti-corporate, anti-commercialism was going to send his loved ones this ad, they'd probably give themselves high fives of success!

Love,

Cullen

p.s. AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AMERICAN EXPRESS, AND AMERICAN EXPRESS!

p.p.s. Do you think it's working?

I found this on www.recumbentblog.com.

I like the line, "I hope my bike takes you straight to hell."

Here's a good website that has a very enlightened view of the government's "cash for clunkers" program

Old school?

I just horrified my daughter by putting a Dag Nasty cd in the boombox. I haven't heard it in years.

It made me want to look for other old-school punk cds I have (i.e. Minor Threat, Descendents, etc.).

I remember buying some of those when they were just released, and it astounds me that, to many folks, they're considered old-school punk.

Here's a really good cycling link:

www.mapmyride.com

You can use it to find cycling rides/routes in your area...

I'd like to apologize for my severe lack of blog entries. I'll try to stay on top of it.

I'm happy that some of you are impressed with my daily cycling stats. Here's more:


***********************
Sunday, August 9, 2009
***********************

Time Started * Finished:
- 8:10 * 8:50
- 9:54 * 10:26
- 1:03 * 1:13
- 3:26 * 5:03
- 6:56 * 7:30

Time Triked[Set]:
- 40[47]
- 32[39]
- 10[12]
- 91[98]
- 34[43]
[3:27]

Distance:
- 10.8
- 9.1
- 2.6
- 22.5
- 10.0
[55 miles]

Speed:
- 16.9
- 17.5
- 17.1
- 15.2
- 17.9

Calories:
- 294
- 255
- 71
- 537
- 289
[1446 calories]

Ride:
- Pike 15
- PYR 13
- Pike 15
- Park 14
- PYR 13

Destination:
- Neenah Family Restaurant for breakfast
- YMCA for shower
- Home
- Mellow Ride around town
- Around Town Again
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

***********************
Monday, August 10, 2009
***********************

Time Started * Finished:
- 8:08 * 9:58
- 11:18 * 11:46
- 12:08 * 12:54
- 2:14 * 5:20
- 7:00 * 7:40

Time Triked[Set]:
- 79[87]
- 29[30]
- 48[50]
- 71[77]
- 40[41]
[4:27]

Distance:
- 20.2
- 6.9
- 11.5
- 17.5
- 9.5
[65.6 miles]

Speed:
- 15.7
- 14.8
- 14.7
- 15.1
- 14.6

Calories:
- 499
- 160
- 263
- 411
- 216
[1549 calories]

Ride:
- Park 15
- Park 12
- Park 13
- Park 14
- Park 10

Destination:
- DePere Coffee
- Brown County Library
- Little Rapids
- Home
- St. Nicholas in Freedom
***********************

***********************
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
***********************
Time Started * Finished:
- 8:02 * 8:40
- 9:50 * 10:45
- 12:24 * 12:56
- 2:27 * 3:08
- 3:51 * 4:36
- 5:00 * 5:39
- 7:04 * 7:41

Time Triked[Set]:
- 36[72]
- 49[60]
- 31[36]
- 39[45]
- 45[45]
- 39[39]
- 31[37]
[4:30]

Distance:
- 10.0
- 12.0
- 8.0
- 10.0
- 12.0
- 9.4
- 8.6
[70.0 miles]

Speed:
- 17.1
- 15.0
- 16.2
- 15.7
- 16.3
- 14.8

Calories:
- 273
- 283
- 207
- 247
- 313
- 219
[1779 calories]

Ride:
- Rolling Hills 11
- Pyamid 7
- Cross Train 7
- Ride in Park 13
- Ride in Park 13
- Cross Train 10
***********************

*************************
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
*************************

Time Started * Finished:
- 8:25 * 10:21
- 11:36 * 12:01
- 3:30 * 4:17
- 4:42 * 5:24

Time Triked[Set]:
- 84[84]
- 25[78]
- 42[78]
- 42[42]
[3:13]

Distance:
- 23.3
- 6.7
- 10.0
- 11.9
[51.9 miles]

Speed:
- 17.1
- 16.8
- 14.7
-17.3

Calories:
- 648
- 178
- 229
- 330
[1385 calories]

Ride:
- Cross Train 10
- Rolling Hills 11
- Ride in Park 13
- Rolling Hills 11
***********************

As you see above, I've added some random area destinations.

I did this to prepare for my future trike-taxi business. (I'll write more about that later).

Friday, July 31, 2009 [trike log]

Just so I can guarantee that I have something written in this blog everyday, and because I ride my recumbent exercise bike daily, I'm going to start posting my ride stats. I hope it doesn't annoy people. Actually, I hope people are awestruck by it!

So, today:

*************************
Friday, July 31, 2009
*************************
Time Started * Finished:
- 7:24 * 8:39
- 9:33 * 11:11
-2:10 * 3:13
- 6:56 * 7:43

Time Triked[set]:
- 1:12[72 minutes]
- 1:36[96 minutes]
- 1:04[64 minutes]
- 47[60]
[4:39]

Distance:
- 18.2
- 25.1
- 18.0
- 13.7
[75 miles]

Speed:
- 15.6
- 16.2
- 17.5
- 13.7

Calories:
- 448
- 657
- 506
- 390
[2001]

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

I'm love cycling so much that I'm thinking of growing a handlebar
mustache as symbolic proof.

However, I'd like to give it a brand name. I'm unfamiliar with the
best bicycle handlebars, so I need suggestions.

When people compliment me - IF they ever do - I'd like to say, "Thank
you very much," and, then, pointing at my mustache with both fingers,
"Why it's a [insert brand name here] mustache!"

p.s. I'm sorry it's been so long (years ?) since my last post. Blogging is a good way to keep living in other people's minds. I hope you didn't think I was dead...

p.s. I just notice I could make labels for my posts. This is a great new option for me to abuse!

Friday 1-19-07 Art Cards

Hello gentle readers,

I make these construction paper art card thingies with my daughter. They're very modern abstract looking. They actually look really cool. I'm planning on framing a couple,

While doing this I came up with a terrific idea...Try to sell them!

***

On a much different note, I really want to help make cycling something that's very safe and something that people want to do. I discovered "Rails To Trails", which works on turning old railroad tracks in to cycling trails, and "Greenways", which builds bicycle trails.

I'd love to help these organizations as much as possible. And, since I'm totally poor, I thought I'd help by linking them in my very expensive blog. Yeah, I know, I'm such a cheapskate...

Jinbobobby Womy

Praise To Jingobobby Womy

A guy is eating in a restaurant with his sexy girlfriend [all of the girls in my stories happen to have this feature...IE "Sexiness"]. A family - Mom, Dad, Son, and Daughter - enters the restaurant and sits in the booth next to the couple.

They get their meal. But before they eat, they pray. However, they don't pray to God, like normal Americans would. The entity they pray to happens to be name Jingobobby Womy [I hope this sounds ridiculous like it's supposed to].

The guy sitting near the family happens to hear the son's prayer:"Dear Jingobobby Womy help me find my favorite Robo-mutant action figure. I lost it, and have no idea where it is!"

On his way out, the guy's sexy girlfriend spots the boy's Robo-mutant laying in the parking lot next to his cardoor.

He grabs the action figure, goes back into the restaurant, and proudly gives it to the boy.
"Thanks Jingobobby Womy!" the father rejoices looking up, with his hands in the air, towards heaven.

The End

My new weight watching regiment. "The Waste Watcher Plan"

I've come up with a new, brilliant weight management program:

See, a lot of people gain weight, and have no idea where it comes from. In my new program [I feel like I have to give it a name...I'll call it the "Waste watcher plan"], you keep a diary of what you eat along with a record of the weight of your wastes (both urination and fecal matter [hey, common now, I am trying to sound scientific] ).

You also keep track of your daily activity.

So, for example, I eat one and a half pounds of food one day. And urinate and defecate one and one-quarter of waste. If you do the calculation, you'll notice that you've gained a quarter of a pound in weight that day.

The next day, you eat one pound of food. And begin your exercise regiment chainsaw juggling while running around the block five times.

You eat one and a half pounds of food that day. You urinate and defecate one and 1.7 pounds of waste that day. So, that means you've actually lost some weight [0.2 pounds to be precise].

I think this is a brilliant idea. But make sure you don't reuse the items you pee and poop in for future leftovers!

A new holiday

I thought of a new holiday. It's sort of like a birthday, but it's called "conception day".

I can explain the holiday better if I write a fake conversation between father and son:
***
Holidy? Hurrah!!!

Little Johnny and his dad sit the living room, among many colorful, helium-filled ballons, looking outside the front window waiting for people to show up to thier party.

"Dad, this is sort of like my birthday, right?," asks little Johnny.

"Yes," says Daddy. "It's the same, but different. See, Johnny, it's the day mommy and I made you."

"In other words," says little Johnny with a big smirk. "It's the day when you and mommy had sex, and your sperm fertilized mommy's egg."

"Wow, you sure are smart, Johnny," says Daddy. He, then, takes a deep breath, wipes his brow, and looks at little Johnny. "Since scientists have figured out that it takes twenty three weeks from conception to birth, I just take the day you were born and subtract twenty three weeks. And that's our new holiday!"

"Do I get presents?" asks little Johnny.

"Well, I'm sorry," Daddy says. "I got paid yesterday, but some jerk in the parking lot mugged me as I walked from the bank to my car."

***
What do you think of this new holiday?

I think it's a great idea. Unfortunately, I picture some anti abortion wackos foaming at the mouth, yelling, "See, I told you. Life does begin at conception!"

"Yes" To that I'd respond,"life for a loved child!"

What do you think of all of this, gentle reader [if I have any]?

1-05-07

I found this bike on the internet. It looks like a very interesting concept... A front wheel drive bicycle.

If I rode big boy bikes like I used to, I'd definitely give it a try.

The link.

January 1, 2007

I'm sorry that it's been so long. My brain has just been in "rest" mode. I'm going to post some of, my daughter, Veronica's poems. This beautiful, awesome girl inspires me so much that I'm going to post a story I wrote for her.

***

Now, the poems:

Broken Heart
My heart is broken
I just can’t understand
When my heart is broken
I just don’t understand

I want to play violin
I just don’t understand
When my heart is broken
I just don’t understand

I stopped and I come
I wiped a chimbly thumb
My hair is working
When my heart is broken
I just don’t understand


Mermaid Song
I dance around
I couldn’t feel
My heart is not broken

A deep sea
A deep sea
And I couldn’t feel a wave

When I’m a mermaid
Now I dance around boys
I dance around with girls.
I dance with everybody in the world.

One day I couldn’t have feet
But feet is stupid
I want to be with the other mermaids

I love to see other mermaids
And whales and dolphins
And my family too.

October 2, 2006 Niceness

As time, science, and technology increases, we should, and will have to, find new ways to prove we're nice people. Of course, one can always go the cheap and easy route by becoming religious.

In some ways,I went that way. But I realize that religion is a cheap, easy, and abused way to prove niceness. So, I just use the things I'm good at to help me along the way. Writing, for one, is easy. And I hope it makes me a better, trustable guy. And I'm also a musician [guitar], and I hope that helps too.

Now that I think of it, I've always been religious by being a punk rocker with morals.

The punk rock lifestyle lead me to my wife. And from my wife to zines. And from zines to writing in general.

Writing, like I said, is my way to gain trust. So I hope my writing doesn't make you sick and naseous.

[P.S. Is anybody actually following my story. If so, let me know, I'll finish trascribing it.]

Cycling vids

Greetings Earthlings,

I discovered a website featuring bikes I would ride if I weren't crippled. It's called "Street Lowrider"

The video can be found here: videos

BLOCKED [part three]

At 5:45 I awake. I lie in bed until 6 and, then, finally emerge from my womb of blankets and quilts. Naked, I feel the ground, in darkness, for my work clothes.

Later, in the kitchen, I sit down to a bowl of Choco Dynobites and a huge cup of coffee. The steam from the cup sways hypnotically in my peripheral vision as I read the latest Burgand book.

I pack my lunch, a turkey sandwich and orange. It's been the same lunch for the last two years. On my way out, I give the cat a quick, but attentive stroke and she arches her back in pleasure.

The drive to work is smooth. I'm half asleep which doesn't matter because I know exactly where all of th potholes are, and I know that you should always in front of the bus before it gets to Prospect otherwise I'll be stuck behind if for a good half mile.

I hit green lights all of the way and punch in at 6:58. I run on automatic , even when I'm sleeping. I should just sleep all of the time. I guess with a routine this dull it beats being awake.



[I plan on putting out smaller, easily-digestable parts like this one. I hope this will make it easier to digest...Blogs are cool because, even though it's a pretty lenghty story, I can seperate it into sections. And the sections flow continuously to make the story as I published it...

Speaking of publishing. I sorta miss reading shit on paper...Woops - I mean STUFF on paper... No, I don't examine my used toilet paper after pooping.]

BLOCKED [part two]

"Come here," he said, stumbling over to his work space in the corner of the living room. He held a full glass. I noticed that he put an olive in it for the occasion. He turned on the desk lamp, and on the desk laid and eight and a half by eleven linoleum block clipped to a board. It was a city scape, only half finished. It was really quite good, but it didn't look any more finished than the last time I saw it. I noticed that all of the carving tools were packed away. The desk chair was pushed in and the lint balls, collected at the feet, swayed like cottonseed from the air burstin out of the heater.

"I'll give you a print when it's done," he said.

"That'd be great," I said.

I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Tobias was still in the living room with the block in his hand, shaking his head in dismay. He plunked it down carelessly, and looked at it for a few seconds. His fingers probed his cocktail glass for the olive. After pulling it out, fingers wet with gin, he popped it in his mouth and chewed it violently. He then turned off his desk lamp and hobbled back to the kitchen.

"You're right. You know, that thing about being a starving artist. I know that you have to throw yourself into it to be successful..."

"No," I said, "I was just messing with you. I'm sure there are plenty of artists that have never suffered." I could tell that my bid to make him feel a little better came too late.

The record ran out, and Tobias made no move to put a new one on. I could hear the repeating crackle of it, but he payed no heed.

"Christ, I'm hungry," he said with a change in his voice, trying to shake off his slump. "You want something to eat?"

"No, I gotta get going," I said.

I grabbed my windbreaker as Tobias heated up a can of beef stew on the stove. "Make sure you turn that thing off when you're done," I said, taking heed of his drunkeness. He grunted, head hanging, looking into the brown, chunky sludge. He looked tragically comic, with the wooden spoon in one hand, stirring,an inch and half of ash dangerously defying gravity.

"See ya tomorrow," I said, closing the door behind me.

BLOCKED [part one]

I quit drinking early, but Tobias, man, you should've seen him go to town on those gin and tonics. I went over there to pick up some records, and he wanted me to stay and have a couple cocktails. I accepted his offer having nothing better to do at the time, or at any other time for that matter.

We sat in his well-decorated kitchen and listened to some soul. The open face cupboards were crammed with 50s-style appliances - half of which didn't work. And even it they did, he wouldn't know how to use them. Every object in his apartment serves an aesthetic purpose. It's all arranged strategically, with balance in mind. From the 1930's time clock to the nouveau bread box collection. It's tasteful, yes. And when I'm at his place I wish I had the energy to be as stylish as him.

As he bitched about his nympho girlfriend, I found myself particularly drawn to the art deco, metal popcorn popper. It almost seemed like a prop from an old sci-fi movie.

My gaze shifted toward the kitchen window. It was raining, and the gutter must've been clogged because a small stream of water drizzled down from above. The half-vacant parking lot below was spotty with oily, rainbow-colored puddles. It was an ugly, but welcome, reminder of spring.

"Man, I'm so glad winter's over," I said.

"I enjoy Wisconsin weather. I hate the heat," he said. "I'm more of a cold weather person."

"Yeah, but don't you ever get depressed," I responded. "I mean everything is sleeping - it feels like death. The sun sets at four o' clock. And half the time you don't even see because we're stuck in that fucking sweatshop most of the time."

"Now come on. I don't mind working there," he said.

I had had too many drinks to refrain my pessimism. "Did you get a degree to satisfy you aspirations to paint portraits of rich people?"

"Oh, come on, don't start with the whole starving artist bit. That's a cliché and you know it. Besides, I have bills to pay," he said.

"Do you still want to make a living off of your art?"

"Yes, of course. But I'm a realist."

"Have you worked on any of your prints lately?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact, I have," he said, going to the kitchen counter where the open bottle of gin sat. "Let me fix another drink, and I'll show you."

I took the opportunity and excused myself and went to the bathroom. In the bathroom, as I pissed, I noticed the toiletries on the shelf in front of me: tortoise shell nail clippers, matching comb and brush, 1940's safety razor - all items he doesn't use. I flushed and washed my hands. On the sink ledge lay, in stark contrast, his functional items: Barbasol, pomade, toothbrush with ratty bristles, tube of toothpaste. I must've caught Tobias off guard because normally these items are hidden in the medicine cabinet.

I walked out to the living room, and the heat hit me. I took off my sweater. God, it was miserably hot. The heater sat in the middle of the living room. It was an industrial-sized piece of machinery. The air coming out of it must've bee 100 degrees, literally. "Man, Tobias you need to turn the heat off." He gave me a drunk grunt of indifference. I don't think Tobias knew how to operate the thermostat. He's afraid at what might happen. Most of the trinkets in his pad were purely aesthetic. Laden with knobs and dials that didn't work anymore. Tobias is just used to that , turning dials that just don't work anymore. Face with something functional, something linked to a chain of events with a conclusive purpose, he's at a loss. I just put up with the heat.

Tobias was kind of wobbly and had a hard time flipping the record. After finally getting it into position, he placed the needle down scratchingly. The music, Aretha Arrives, plays medium loud.