Heckled To Death

Looking forward to Gloucester:

Cosmo: You racing at all before Glowchester?
me: Yeah
Cosmo: nice
Cosmo: Imma heckle the shit out of you
me: super
Cosmo: they’re gonna find your body
Cosmo: in the sand
Cosmo: and be like “he was heckled to death”

You’re all invited to heckle me to death. Not that anyone needed an invite. But…in case you did need an invite, you are now invited.

I Need Socks

Are you a company that has your logo on socks?  Are you a sock company that is sitting on a pile of extra-large (suitable for size fifteen US feet) socks?  Would you like photos of your socks to fly about the Internet and as advertisements in publications?

I can make this happen.  If you give me your socks.

This is a real life advertisement in Cyclocross Magazine featuring my legs and my socks.

If you cannot tell, I am wearing a lovely pair of Zanconato socks.  I won them in a raffle.

Here is a better photo of my legs and the socks that I am wearing at the bottom of my legs:

These could be your socks.

This photo is grainy, as I took it off of Colin Reuter’s Twitter page.

If you give me some socks, I will wear them at all cyclocross races.  I will also blog about your socks.  I will give them an honest review.  I am an honest man.  If I review the socks, and they suck*, I will say so.  I will send the socks back to you, and you can take the shitty socks and burn them (as that is what one does with socks that suck).

I will talk about your socks incessantly on the Twitter, to the detriment of losing followers who are tired of hearing me talk about how great (or how shitty) your socks are.  I don’t use Facebook very often, but I will start using it to talk about your socks.

I will put socks on my dog and take cute photos.  Maybe even post them to Instagram.  Are you into sexy photos of skinny, hairy guys wearing nothing but SOCKS?

Well, that’s good, but don’t push your luck.  I will probably** not send you photos of me wearing nothing but socks.

Contact me at ryanneedssomefuckingsocks@exit17.net if you have some socks that you’d like to give me.

*Please don’t send me shitty socks.  Let’s not waste our time here.
** I might.

Friendly Toast For Sale

No, not just a slice of toast.  The entire business.  From Seacoastonline.com:

According to a listing on the Bean Group real estate Web site, $1.875 million is the asking price for a “package deal” for both Friendly Toast locations.

This concerns me, because I fear that new owners will hire new waitstaff and change the menu and make the place cleaner.  OR, they could try to “class it up”, and then Portsmouth could have another stuffy restaurant*.  If the restaurant closes or changes significantly, I’ll probably move.

Alternatively, I can try to raise $1.875 million.

*note:  Fiancee correctly predicted that Bella Sol would not last, as it was yet another restaurant with a generic (but likely tasty) offering of pasta dishes, along the lines of Cafe Med, Radici and others.  The Friendly Toast stands out as one of the truly unique eateries in the city.

This Photo Is Fantastic

The title of this post says it all.

Pretty sure she's not riding this bike ironically.

This photo adorns the side of a new “healthy” snack machine at work (where Clif Bars are $2!) and is very confusing.

I would like to know who chose this out of the massive collection of mountain biking stock photos that were available.  Because that is a person with a great sense of humor, or a person who is comically out of touch.

Commute Communique – Sept 9, 2011

Miiiight have been one of the best commuting days ever.

Stage A

– Stem on the cross bike is now FULLY SLAMMED.  Photos coming, once I cut the steerer tube.

– Rode behind a cute woman on a Surly Long Haul Trucker on 108.  She had pannier mounts.

– Had no coffee at the house, so I rode through Durham (Because it’s Friday morning) and got an espresso at BNG.  Drank it standing up.  Got excited.

– I got waved at by a hot chick in a silver Honda Fit.

Stage B

– Rode down Watson road.  Discovered some trails.  Rode down the trails.  They dead-ended at a swamp.  While riding, I caught my two-year old shorts on a branch and ripped them:


– Two miles later, rescued an ornery snapping turtle out of the middle of Watson Road.  Prodding him with my frame pump wasn’t working.  I took my wheel off, put it in front of him, he crawled on it as he came to attack me, and then I ran with my turtle platter and dumped him in the woods.

– I took the Rockingham Recreation Trail from Newfields to Newmarket.  Began devising plans for a Seacoast NH Rhonde.

– Met Collin in Newmarket.  He gave me some new shorts/Keough power:

After donning these shorts I won EVERY SPRINT EVER.

– Collin took me on some trails in Newmarket/Durham that are not designed for cross bikes.  We rode them for about an hour and a half.  I fell in love with my cross bike (again), because it can do ANYTHING.  Further devising of plans for a Seacoast NH Rhonde.

– Oddly enough, the trails are known as the Sweet Trails (link is a .pdf of trail brochure and map).

That is all.  Pretty solid commute.