I used to be a fat biker… but now I’m worse. I’m a fat biker who only rides with his dog. Don’t laugh too much, odds are my dog rides more hours a year than you. Like most things life changing, it started as a joke. We bought a little […]
I used to wonder how all these bicycle shops on every corner stayed in business. Then I got into cycling. Mystery solved.
One day a driver in Tucson is going to kill me with kindness — under the wheels of her white sedan with a big fucking Be Kind sticker on the back.
“I’ve got a problem,” the producer said. “For this holocaust movie…”
“Wait, what holocaust movie?” his older friend and mentor said.
“It’s based on a true story… about how a special skill let someone survive.”
How can you spot a happy bikers? Count the bugs in their teeth.
I know that’s an old terrible joke… but it sort of applies to bicycles too. I’ve swallowed my share of “free protein” — especially riding at night.
The worst part of road biking: flat tires. Fat guys get a shit ton of flat tires. The last two were annoying little piss ant slow leaks
Everybody else loses weight when they ride a bike. Not me. I’ve ridden more than 35,000 miles since 2010, and I just keep getting fatter and fatter.
I got a third of the way up the mountain, when I had to turn back for my bicycle pump. No big deal, I’ll just be a few hours late getting home. I’m lucky I made it at all.
It’s been 30 years of political battles to get cities to build bike lanes. And then the god damn cyclists ride right next to the white line.
One of the worst parts of being a fat cyclist is the clothes.
Cycling is supposed to be some crunchy-granola-zen shit — but thanks to modern engineering — it’s not…
Sometimes people are just too fucking nice, and I’m not going to trust anyone who waves and smiles at me like a psycho. Especially if they are behind the wheel surrounded by 2000 pounds of metal and plastic, and I’ve got my balls outlined by my “cycling shorts” […]
In the flat land, a bike overpass is king. Gilbert Az just crowned it’s new “bridge” for bikes and people over the railroad tracks just west of “downtown.”
I never thought it would happen to me. Riding on the flat dirt path next to a canal, I got passed — by an even fatter biker.
“I bought this bike, so I could ride it. I don’t want to learn how to fix it.”
