We all know that in the petty social climate of today if you screw shit up, the torch wielding mobs with forked tongue and self righteous bluster will come out in droves to call you out on it. Michael Vick got caught. So did former Republican Senator Larry Craig. Even that anti-semantic dickface Mel Gibson got nailed. And so, with all the tabloid smut being peddled as news by the major networks, I got to thinking. Isn't it time cycling grew some balls and started castigating the poor bastards that fuck cycling up for the rest of us? I think it is.
This new feature is dedicated to all the cyclists out there that are tired of being asked if they're going to do the Tour de France. It's dedicated to the cyclists that are sick of watching bicycles be chopped, flopped, and diddled by trend whores. And goddammit, it's dedicated to the cyclists that clench their teeth when the lobotomized masses transform bicycles into creaky abominations like a bunch of playschool barbarians.
Thus it is with great fanfare and humility that I give you the first edition of the fruits of my investigative labor: "The Poor Bastards"
When I first saw this bike, my first reaction was "Who shit on my floor?" Upon closer inspection, I discovered that it resembled a bicycle. It might even have been one at some point in time. However this one seemed to have a cancerous growth within it's midsection and rear wheel. I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pity and disgust. It was like I had come face to face with Frankenstein's monster.
The bastards, full of hubris, thought they could save some coin and assemble this 75 lb (an official weight- we measured) beast themselves. Apparently, the complexity of the Electrec was too great for even their heightened intellect. For, no sooner had they assembled their two wheeled magnum opus, it turned on them and went "all crazy". It was a swift descent to the pave, no doubt.
There's a saying by a great man that I know who said of a remarkable incompetent, "Everything he does is wrong." This is his inanimate equivalent. If you look closely, I believe you can see the profile of Fausto Coppi weeping.