2nd 2012 Dirt Crit

Greetings, dickheads. So this summer's Dirt Crit Series is well underway, and deep into the thick of it, you'll find a number of our soldiers. One thing that seems to separate this year from the recent years, though, is the incredible heat, which has been 105+ degrees these last two weeks - as miserable as humanity itself. Gino "Get Fucked" Felino, Sam "Jew Crew" Axel, "A Beautiful Mind" Torrez, "Every Weekened is a 5 Day Weekend" Lawman, and myself, Casey "The Unflushable Turd" Ryback all lining up to put the "penis" into "punishment."

Teammates that weren't at the race:
-Jack "I've Installed More Steer-tube Extenders Than You Could Imagine" Taggort couldn't make it, as he has been getting back to his true Southern roots.
-Roland "I Can't Wait To Take a Dump in Leadville" Sallinger was christening a new low-flow toilet in his office's upstairs bathroom. I am confident that he'll have it clogged by the end of next week.
-John Farinella and Christopher, even though they aren't technically on the team, are reported to have gotten stuck while "docking."
-Orin "Titty" Boyd was too busy building the perfect drool-worthy bike.
-Forrest "Bearded Wonder" Taft was too busy trying to construct an mini-indoor velodrome in the basement of his new house.
-Jason "I Need A Proper Nickname" Pryor was busy coming to terms with his new levels of jerkitude.
-Jerkward "Vegetarian Option E" Toscani was busy cutting lines of espresso-grounds and snorting them like Scarface.
-Harlan "Gun Slinger" Snurb was busy at working facing some nasty hospital scenario that I can't even fathom, like finding 6-month old dollar bill stuck inside a stripper's "mingus."
-Mason "I Was Forced To Buy Stock in 'Life Is Good' Clothing When I Moved To Seattle" Storm was busy being overwhelmed with perfect weather
-Cock "Sucker" Puncher was busy being a dirty old man.
-Stoveward P. (the P stands for "pee-hole") Stovington was busy reading this post on his phone.
-C. "Boner-Tron 9000" Dubs was busy scaring his new co-workers with his formidable "constitution"

 Another thing that has separated this year from the recent years has been the new management of the races, which saw fit to move the course to the other side of the tracks, which is definitely faster, more open, and with the recent drought, is as dry as most of my customer's chains. The dust coats your body, gets in your mouth, in your nose, your b-hole, nothing is safe. The dust storm is especially bad when you're at the tail end of the man-train - a place with which I am quite familiar.

 Potentially biting off more than I can chew by signing up in the A Race, I am lining up next to a bunch of guys who look like this:
Whereas the whole time I felt more like the floor in this clip:

Our new kits felt super nice, however, which is a plus when you are at your limit in St. Louis as it tries to do it's best imitation of Sub-Saharan Africa. Every lap it was nice to come out of the woods to get a little "cooling mist" delivered by Susan K., a girl who definitely likes a good squirt.

The course going counter-clockwise actually feels a bit faster than the other direction, mainly because of the open stretch between the field and the boat-ramp seems slightly downhill. And that means your going a little bit faster when your pedal clips one of the many ankle-high stumps that are ready to reach out and grab your pedal if you get to close, sending you into the nettle, which may be one of the worst feelings in the known universe - full-body-nettle.

From my perspective, Samuel Axel, Gino, and Torrez were going so fast that they might as wIn trying to come up with a secret speed solution, I decided that I could ditch some weight from my bike. My front tire was in close reach, so after the race I had to get rid of a few more knobs:

Fortunately the race ended, and my embarrassment waned. I recalled a recent sighting on the Grant's Trail, and thought for a little while about employing it's design principles to my bike, in hopes of reducing the back pain which has been holding me back:

Lawman had much success holding his own in the B Race, finding pay-off in this year's training regimen of rigorously making everyone jealous of their weekly camping/hiking/biking/canoeing/bath-house trip photos on the facebooks. 

Who won? Whatever, who cares. Post race was tons of fun, don't worry, we all made sure to get seriously fucked. There were some tents, a trailer or two, and a bunch of people standing around doing shit.

The CX'ers need to expand their horizons and get mountain bikes. I'm talking to you, Jay, Rick, and that other guy who was dismounting for the road crossing. What a jerk.

Either way, it was more enjoyable than riding an indoor trainer. But then, so is getting a blow job from a klondike bear.

-Casey F. U. Ryback

P.S. Here are some sweet photos courtesy of Dan Singer - definitely not a jerk.


CockPunchOr said...

Crotch's tales of pain
Punctuated by girl poop
Make working time fun

Tomorrow my 'taint
Will beg for help and mercy
As Dwayne snaps wrists

New East Coast Syndicate said...

Simply another Pulitzer Prize winning piece of writing from Senor Ryback. I can assure you that our non race Gran Fondo will be steamier then the turd out of that ladies ass. Temps pushing 100 and 108 miles/7000' of climbing will ensure mass carnage.

Scott said...

No low-flow toilet has ever passed my test. Those things are useless to me...

Maybe I will be there next thursday.