A Scene of Outrage

Jason Randall reporting for blog duty. So my good compadre Chester has been hard at work over at Pester Chester. If you don’t already know about the incident in Mongolia then it’s time to get over at Chester’s and read this little puppy.

Chester tells the story of certain unfortunate wolf that got too close for comfort and had to pay the price in blood. Since that day there are two items that I never fail to leave behind before setting out on any cycling journey and I MEAN any journey. The first is Doyle, that’s what I named the wolf pelt that I took from the brave wolf that dared to threaten Chester and I. Before I mount my saddle I face the sun and stare intensely into its fiery depths, thrice I chant an incantation taught to me by an old shaman in Mongolia and then slowly I don Doyle my sacred wolf pelt. The second is Wolf’s Bane, the flaming log that I used to bludgeon Doyle to death, it’s not it’s only name, Chester has on more than one occasion referred to it as the Randallizer. Now, a lot of moronic cyclists these days like to attach multiple bottle holders to their bike frames. I will show you an example here:

You can see one and two.

Now real men, hardy men, hardy men of the road, real thoroughbred cyclists only need one, placed in the classic position upon the lower bar of the bicycle. Thats how Chester and I not to mention Pat Wigan, Brian Barry and the late Kid Williams all set out on our forays into the wilderness. Sandy had a different set up but she had her reasons and excuses. Instead of a second bottle holder, attached to the back part of my frame below the saddle I keep Wolf’s Bane. It’s always close at hand for any emergency situation that requires it.

Now where do I begin with the next thing that bothers me about this image? Who would disrespect their mount like you see in the picture, just look at the neglect. This bicycle is a picture of abuse and dereliction. Left out in the bitter cold of a raging blizzard, snow covering it’s naked limbs. I know, I know, your probably bubbling up with rage right now, I can tell you that my hands are shaking and It’s not easy hitting the right keys but by Christ I’ll compose myself because this entry needs to be published. What kind of deranged numbskull would do this to their ride? The thing is shaking, it’s pleading for help. What kind of lame brain half wit would do this? Well guess who, none other than the feebleminded COW who dares to preach cycling knowledge from the obscurity of cyber space. COW are you listening to me? Get this poor disheveled thing into a garage, a house, an apartment any kind of shelter damn it! Don’t stand there taking pictures of it knucklehead. And if by chance, by some divine intervention Chester George and Jason Randall were able to cycle down into this scene of outrage you would quickly feel the wrath and fury of Wolfs Bane, raining multiple blows upon your cowardly body until you begged for mercy. And if we felt merciful Chester would have on hand his trusty branding iron which, after a good heating, would sear the words “You’ve been Randallized” on your left buttock.

I will leave it there because I’m angry, I’m upset and I’m disturbed.