dirty old men

wanna play dirty?

[this is not sissy stuff--ask anyone who's tried!]

dog days

time for more about my dogs...[above, boris, amelia and dmitri]
dmitri likes to dress up;
i see him as the devil's little helper on snake alley one of these years.
he is one of five from his litter of all boys.
below is an all-too-brief video of one brother, chips ahoy.

jack and the magic bean bus

chapter 14 - bait flings while coons burrow

[with apologies to nero's heirs] Jack watched from the park bench as the more Dog Bait thrashed around in the water, the more frustrated he became. This led to even more thrashing in the water that made the water even muddier than before. Sluggo wasn’t much help because he had completely lost track of where the bicycle had disappeared beneath the surface of the muddy water.
He was now shouting, “I think it went down over there! It went down over there!” while pointing to random spots in the river hoping that Dog Bait would get stuck in the mud or slip into a deep hole.
A few people walking by stopped to see what was going on. They hadn’t seen Dog Bait launch his bike into the water and had no idea what all the commotion was about. Then several more people joined just because they saw the first few people standing there. The effect snowballed until a small crowd had gathered along the riverbank, watching Sluggo and Dog Bait trade insults as Dog Bait sent tidal waves of water this way and that.
Sluggo, always on the lookout for opportunities, noticed the growing crowd and made one minor change in the coaching he was giving Dog Bait. With renewed urgency, Sluggo shouted, “I think he went down over there! He went down over there!”
Dog Bait, always quick on the uptake, followed with, “Here? Did he go under over here?”
“He’s been under for quite a while!” yelled Sluggo while the crowd stared hard into the muddy river. “Keep looking! I think he’s more this way!”
“Shut up!” yelled Dog Bait. “I won’t find him if you keep yelling at me!” The crowd leaned forward, craning their necks toward the thick brown water flowing by.
“Shut up yourself before I climb down in there and concave your forehead!” shouted Sluggo. The crowd leaned back just a bit, away from Sluggo.
And then, when the tension in the crowd was at its peak, Dog Bait took one last smack at the water and said in disgust, “Aw, forget it! Let’s go to the bars!” He climbed up out of the river, and Sluggo picked up the one remaining beater bike. The crowd parted before them and was silent except for the squeak-squeak-squeak of Sluggo’s bike and the squish-squish-squish of Dog Bait’s shoes as they walked away.
It took a few minutes for members of the crowd to wake from their hypnotic trances, with some people glancing back and forth between the river and the two would-be rescuers, while others were shaking their heads as if to clear their vision.
Jack realized that he, too, had been a bit hypnotized by the scene. It was later than he thought, and he would have to ride quickly to reach Brendan’s in time. Jack quickly looked over his shoulder for his bike and saw that it was gone yet again.
Bart had evidently finished rugby practice and was back to his old tricks because Jack spotted him laughing and pedaling across the park on Jack’s bike. A church bell started chiming the eleven o’clock hour, and at that very moment, a raccoon army came charging from several directions at once into the park.



to be continued...

[a serial by little orphan dbax]

before you book your race hotels

an alert reader sent me this video.
if you stay at any of these hotels,
you'll be wishing you only had a broken clavicle!

[friends wonder why i don't let my dogs drink from my toilet. i don't let them drink from a hotel glass, either.]

crazy hippies

despite what was said on npr, it was kermit who complained

"it ain't easy being green."

and as my new friend from missouri will attest, i have little reluctance to call out someone who is doing what ain't right.

so what's the connection?

the always astute g pickle has pointed out a rather inexcusable display of insensitivity and waste by that highly-experienced, change-driven, wacky washington outsider ms. rodham.

click here to discover for yourself.

SHAME on you, hillary. SHAME.

you are NOT welcome on any of our group rides until you make amends.

[HINT: money won't make it right.]

a sad day for all of ragby

from a grief stricken reader, orphan, bike racer, scholar, gentleman, and member of the president's council on fitness [or something like that] comes this note:

A sad day for all of Ragby.

The article shows how the inventor of the slip 'n slide has passed away. If not for his efforts we would not have the experience of the Beer Slide on Ragby.ARCADIA, Calif. -- Richard Knerr, a co-founder of the company that turned the Hula Hoop and Frisbee into beloved toys, has died. He was 82.Knerr's wife told The Los Angeles Times that her husband died at a hospital Monday after suffering a stroke at his home in Arcadia, Calif.Knerr and childhood buddy Spud Melin started a slingshot-selling business in 1948 and called their company Wham-O after what they said was the sound of something hit by a slingshot.Ten years later, Wham-O devised its own version of an Australian exercise ring and called it the Hula Hoop. Around the same time, the company bought the rights to a plastic flying disc called the Pluto Platter. They renamed it the Frisbee, and the rest, as they say is outdoor fun history.Wham-O added other toys to its line including the Superball, the Slip 'N Slide and Silly String.Melin died in 2002 at 77.In an interview back in 1994, Knerr said his company contributed "fun" to America." orphan brendon

[also accomplished herbologists, sister olive, the above, helps sista nun, of the above, water and feed some of the tropical plants around the orphanage]

"But who was the first to suggest that it should be combined with alcoholic beverages and nakedness? Presumably this occurred approx 30 secs after its original invention" ...orphan nic

[sista nun, of the above, shown here on one of her many fabled "bearfoot walks across iowa" which directly led to register columnists don kaul and john karras taking up the sista's challenge to "get off their lazy asses and join her on one" of her annual treks across her home state. shown above is the sista and several of her chuck taylor-clad companions on bearfoot 10, in 1969.]

"Sister Kim I believe"--orphan jimmy

[sista nun, of the above, shown here on the one of only three "Barelegs walk across iowa" this one from the last, held in 1971. this traditiona was abandoned with the sudden and mysterious departure of sista olive, the above, from the orphanage in 1972.]

"It was sister kim"....the mayor of ragby, the honorable ding g.l. berry

well, yes, i think i feel well enough to post this exchange. it was nearing the end of a long day's ride into cresco...schlay? schleigh? the name of the little town, just north of the route. two bars, side by side, but the smaller one had a larger back yard--and an owner who would do anything to beat out his bigger competitior next door.

"do you have a roll of plastic, some detergent, and a hose?" i asked; "we'll get it," he said.

within five minutes, we were set, with a large group of riders gathering around. but no one took my offer to enjoy the natural benefits of sun, soap, suds and suds--until--and i think we can agree that "portly" is a fair descriptor, a portly couple came up to me and told me that they were nudists, and would quite happily get naked and do a few slides. the man told me "once everyone sees how fat WE are, they'll ALL feel much better about themselves."

they were, they did, so did everyone else, and the rest is history.

and another chapter in the story of "the ones who ruined ragbrai" was written.