Testing....

Im trying to post from my stupid iPhone... If this works again I will
state what a frickin crazy world we live in... Hmmm, I can't upload a photo,
that's a bummer ... Let's see if the text works

ServiceCourse is Experiencing Technical Difficulty - Its Called "Work"!

Well well - The time has come to for the Astina show. I'll be working the Iron Girls for NBC and then to Tour De Georgia which will air each night on Versus starting the 20th- I tried to get BBI to fill in as guest Editor while I'm gone.... Not sure if he can spell as he just kinda looked at his feet, swayed n grunted when pressed to perform. So loyal readers you're left with a blank slate till the 29th-

Sorry to do this to you, as I know this Blog is the only thing you have left in life.

So to get you thru the night - here is the entire script of The Big Lebowski:

The Big Lebowski
VOICE-OVER: A way out west there was a fella, fella I want to tell you about, fella by the name of Jeff Lebowski. At least, that was the handle his lovin' parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself. This Lebowski, he called himself the Dude. Now, Dude, that's a name no one would self-apply where I come from. But then, there was a lot about the Dude that didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. And a lot about where he lived, like- wise. But then again, maybe that's why I found the place s'durned innarestin'.
VOICE-OVER: They call Los Angeles the City of Angels. I didn't find it to be that exactly, but I'll allow as there are some nice folks there. 'Course, I can't say I seen London, and I never been to France, and I ain't never seen no queen in her damn undies as the fella says. But I'll tell you what, after seeing Los Angeles and thisahere story I'm about to unfold-- wal, I guess I seen somethin' ever' bit as stupefyin' as ya'd see in any a those other places, and in English too, so I can die with a smile on my face without feelin' like the good Lord gypped me.
VOICE-OVER: Now this story I'm about to unfold took place back in the early nineties-- just about the time of our conflict with Sad'm and the Eye-rackies. I only mention it 'cause some- times there's a man--I won't say a hee-ro, 'cause what's a hee-ro?--but sometimes there's a man.
And I'm talkin' about the Dude here-- sometimes there's a man who, wal, he's the man for his time'n place, he fits right in there--and that's the Dude, in Los Angeles.
VOICE-OVER: ...and even if he's a lazy man, and the Dude was certainly that--quite possibly the laziest in Los Angeles County. ...which would place him high in the runnin' for laziest worldwide--but sometimes there's a man... sometimes there's a man.
VOICE: We want that money, Lebowski. Bunny said you were good for it.
VOICE: Where's the money, Lebowski!
VOICE: Where's the money, Lebowski!
VOICE: WHERE'S THE FUCKING MONEY, SHITHEAD!
DUDE: It's uh, it's down there somewhere. Lemme take another look.
VOICE: Don't fuck with us. If your wife owes money to Jackie Treehorn, that means you owe money to Jackie Treehorn.
DUDE: Oh, man. Don't do--
BLOND MAN: You see what happens? You see what happens, Lebowski?
DUDE: Look, nobody calls me Lebowski. You got the wrong guy. I'm the Dude, man.
BLOND MAN: Your name is Lebowski. Your wife is Bunny.
DUDE: Bunny? Look, moron. You see a wedding ring? Does this place look like I'm fucking married? All my plants are dead!
BLOND MAN: The fuck is this?
DUDE: Obviously you're not a golfer.
BLOND MAN: Woo?
WOO: Yeah?
BLOND MAN: Wasn't this guy supposed to be a millionaire?
WOO: Uh? Fuck.
BLOND MAN: What do you think?
WOO: He looks like a fuckin' loser.
DUDE: Hey. At least I'm housebroken.
WOO: Fuckin' waste of time.
BLOND MAN: Thanks a lot, asshole.
WALTER: This was a valued rug. This was, uh--
DUDE: Yeah man, it really tied the room together--
WALTER: This was a valued, uh.
DONNY: What tied the room together, Dude?
WALTER: Were you listening to the story, Donny?
DONNY: What--
WALTER: Were you listening to the Dude's story?
DONNY: I was bowling--
WALTER: So you have no frame of reference, Donny. You're like a child who wanders in in the middle of a movie and wants to know--
DUDE: What's your point, Walter?
WALTER: There's no fucking reason--here's my point, Dude--there's no fucking reason--
DONNY: Yeah Walter, what's your point?
WALTER: Huh?
DUDE: What's the point of--we all know who was at fault, so what the fuck are you talking about?
WALTER: Huh? No! What the fuck are you talking--I'm not--we're talking about unchecked aggression here--
DONNY: What the fuck is he talking about?
DUDE: My rug.
DUDE: This Chinaman who peed on my rug, I can't go give him a bill so what the fuck are you talking about?
WALTER: What the fuck are you talking about?! This Chinaman is not the issue! I'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, Dude. Across this line you do not, uh--and also, Dude, Chinaman is not the preferred, uh... Asian- American. Please.
DUDE: Walter, this is not a guy who built the rail- roads, here, this is a guy who peed on my--
WALTER: What the fuck are you--
DUDE: Walter, he peed on my rug--
DONNY: He peed on the Dude's rug--
WALTER: YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR ELEMENT! This Chinaman is not the issue, Dude.
DUDE: So who--
WALTER: Jeff Lebowski. Come on. This other Jeffrey Lebowski. The millionaire. He's gonna be easier to find anyway than these two, uh. these two ... And he has the wealth, uh, the resources obviously, and there is no reason, no FUCKING reason, why his wife should go out and owe money and they pee on your rug. Am I wrong?
DUDE: No, but--
WALTER: Am I wrong!
DONNY: His name is Lebowski? That's your name, Dude!
DUDE: Yeah, this is the guy, this guy should compensate me for the fucking rug. I mean his wife goes out and owes money and they pee on my rug.
WALTER: Thaaat's right Dude; they pee on your fucking Rug.
YOUNG MAN: These are Mr. Lebowski's children, so to speak--
DUDE: Different mothers, huh?
YOUNG MAN: No, they--
DUDE: I guess he's pretty, uh, racially pretty cool--
YOUNG MAN: They're not his, heh-heh, they're not literally his children; they're the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers, inner-city children of promise but without the--
DUDE: I see.
YOUNG MAN: --without the means for higher education, so Mr. Lebowski has committed to sending all of them to college.
DUDE: Jeez. Think he's got room for one more?
YOUNG MAN: One--oh! Heh-heh. You never went to college?
DUDE: Well, yeah I did, but I spent most of my time occupying various, um, administration buildings--
YOUNG MAN: Heh-heh--
DUDE: --smoking thai-stick, breaking into the ROTC--
YOUNG MAN: Yes, heh--
DUDE: --and bowling. I'll tell you the truth, Brandt, I don't remember most of it.--Jeez! Fuck me!
LEBOWSKI: Okay sir, you're a Lebowski, I'm a Lebowski, that's terrific, I'm very busy so what can I do for you?
DUDE: Well sir, it's this rug I have, really tied the room together-
LEBOWSKI: You told Brandt on the phone, he told me. So where do I fit in?
DUDE: Well they were looking for you, these two guys, they were trying to--
LEBOWSKI: I'll say it again, all right? You told Brandt. He told me. I know what happened. Yes? Yes?
DUDE: So you know they were trying to piss on your rug--
LEBOWSKI: Did I urinate on your rug?
DUDE: You mean, did you personally come and pee on my--
LEBOWSKI: Hello! Do you speak English? Parla usted Inglese? I'll say it again. Did I urinate on your rug?
DUDE: Well no, like I said, Woo peed on the rug--
LEBOWSKI: Hello! Hello! So every time--I just want to understand this, sir-- every time a rug is micturated upon in this fair city, I have to compensate the--
DUDE: Come on, man, I'm not trying to scam anybody here, I'm just--
LEBOWSKI: You're just looking for a handout like every other--are you employed, Mr. Lebowski?
DUDE: Look, let me explain something. I'm not Mr. Lebowski; you're Mr. Lebowski. I'm the Dude. So that's what you call me. That, or Duder. His Dudeness. Or El Duderino, if, you know, you're not into the whole brevity thing--
LEBOWSKI: Are you employed, sir?
DUDE: Employed?
LEBOWSKI: You don't go out and make a living dressed like that in the middle of a weekday.
DUDE: Is this a--what day is this?
LEBOWSKI: But I do work, so if you don't mind--
DUDE: No, look. I do mind. The Dude minds. This will not stand, ya know, this will not stand, man. I mean, if your wife owes--
LEBOWSKI: My wife is not the issue here. I hope that my wife will someday learn to live on her allowance, which is ample, but if she doesn't, sir, that will be her problem, not mine, just as your rug is your problem, just as every bum's lot in life is his own responsibility regardless of whom he chooses to blame. I didn't blame anyone for the loss of my legs, some chinaman in Korea took them from me but I went out and achieved anyway. I can't solve your problems, sir, only you can.
DUDE: Ah fuck it.
LEBOWSKI: Sure! Fuck it! That's your answer! Tattoo it on your forehead! Your answer to everything!
BRANDT: How was your meeting, Mr. Lebowski?
DUDE: Okay. The old man told me to take any rug in the house.
YOUNG WOMAN Blow on them.
DUDE: Huh?
YOUNG WOMAN G'ahead. Blow.
DUDE: You want me to blow on your toes?
YOUNG WOMAN Uh-huh... I can't blow that far.
DUDE: You sure he won't mind?
YOUNG WOMAN Dieter doesn't care about anything. He's a nihilist.
DUDE: Practicing?
YOUNG WOMAN You're not blowing.
BRANDT: Our guest has to be getting along, Mrs. Lebowski.
DUDE: You're Bunny?
BUNNY: I'll suck your cock for a thousand dollars.
BRANDT: Ha-ha-ha-ha! Wonderful woman. Very free-spirited. We're all very fond of her.
BUNNY: Brandt can't watch though. Or he has to pay a hundred.
BRANDT: Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That's marvelous.
DUDE: I'm just gonna find a cash machine.
DUDE: What the fuck are you--
WALTER: I'm saying, Cynthia's Pomeranian. I'm looking after it while Cynthia and Marty Ackerman are in Hawaii.
DUDE: You brought a fucking Pomeranian bowling?
WALTER: What do you mean "brought it bowling"? I didn't rent it shoes. I'm not buying it a fucking beer. He's not gonna take your fucking turn, Dude.
DUDE: Hey, man, if my fucking ex-wife asked me to take care of her fucking dog while she and her boyfriend went to Honolulu, I'd tell her to go fuck herself. Why can't she board it?
WALTER: First of all, Dude, you don't have an ex, secondly, it's a fucking show dog with fucking papers. You can't board it. It gets upset, its hair falls out.
DUDE: Hey man--
WALTER: Fucking dog has papers, Dude.
WALTER: Over the line!
WALTER: Smokey Huh?
WALTER: Over the line, Smokey! I'm sorry. That's a foul.
SMOKEY: Bullshit. Eight, Dude.
WALTER: Excuse me! Mark it zero. Next frame.
SMOKEY: Bullshit. Walter!
WALTER: This is not Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.
DUDE: Come on Walter, it's just--it's Smokey. So his toe slipped over a little, it's just a game.
WALTER: This is a league game. This determines who enters the next round- robin, am I wrong?
SMOKEY: Yeah, but--
WALTER: Am I wrong!?
SMOKEY: Yeah, but I wasn't over. Gimme the marker, Dude, I'm marking it an eight.
WALTER: Smokey my friend, you're entering a world of pain.
DUDE: Hey Walter--
WALTER: Mark that frame an eight, you're entering a world of pain.
SMOKEY: I'm not--
WALTER: A world of pain.
WALTER: HAS THE WHOLE WORLD GONE CRAZY? AM I THE ONLY ONE HERE WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE RULES? MARK IT ZERO!
DUDE: Walter, they're calling the cops, put the piece away.
WALTER: MARK IT ZERO!
SMOKEY: Walter--
WALTER: YOU THINK I'M FUCKING AROUND HERE? MARK IT ZERO!!
SMOKEY: All right! There it is! It's fucking zero!
SMOKEY: You happy, you crazy fuck?
WALTER: This is a league game, Smokey!
DUDE: Walter, you can't do that. These guys're like me, they're pacificists. Smokey was a conscientious objector.
WALTER: You know Dude, I myself dabbled with pacifism at one point. Not in Nam, of course--
DUDE: And you know Smokey has emotional problems!
WALTER: You mean--beyond pacifism?
DUDE: He's fragile, man! He's very fragile!
WALTER: Huh. I did not know that. Well, it's water under the bridge. And we do enter the next round-robin, am I wrong?
DUDE: No, you're not wrong--
WALTER: Am I wrong!
DUDE: You're not wrong, Walter, you're just an asshole.
DUDE: Hiya Allan.
ALLAN: Dude, I finally got the venue I wanted. I'm Performing my dance quintet--you know, my cycle--at Crane Jackson's Fountain Street Theatre on Tuesday night, and I'd love it if you came and gave me notes.
DUDE: Sure Allan, I'll be there.
ALLAN: Dude, uh, tomorrow is already the tenth.
DUDE: Yeah, yeah I know. Okay.
ALLAN: Just, uh, just slip the rent under my door.
DUDE: Yeah, okay.
LEBOWSKI: It's funny. I can look back on a life of achievement, on challenges met, competitors bested, obstacles overcome. I've accomplished more than most men, and without the use of my legs. What... What makes a man, Mr. Lebowski?
DUDE: Dude.
LEBOWSKI: Huh?
DUDE: I don't know, sir.
LEBOWSKI: Is it... is it, being prepared to do the right thing? Whatever the price? Isn't that what makes a man?
DUDE: Sure. That and a pair of testicles.
BRANDT: Mr. Lebowski is prepared to make a generous offer to you to act as courier once we get instructions for the money.
DUDE: Why me, man?
BRANDT: He suspects that the culprits might be the very people who, uh, soiled your rug, and you're in a unique position to confirm or, uh, disconfirm that suspicion.
DUDE: So he thinks it's the carpet-pissers, huh?
BRANDT: Well Dude, we just don't know.
DUDE: Fucking Quintana--that creep can roll, man--
WALTER: Yeah, but he's a fucking pervert, Dude.
DUDE: Huh?
WALTER: The man is a sex offender. With a record. Spent six months in Chino for exposing himself to an eight- year-old.
DUDE: Huh.
WALTER: When he moved down to Venice he had to go door-to-door to tell everyone he's a pederast.
DONNY: What's a pederast, Walter?
WALTER: Shut the fuck up, Donny.
WALTER: Anyway. How much they offer you?
DUDE: Twenty grand. And of course I still keep the rug.
WALTER: Just for making the hand-off?
DUDE: Yeah.
DUDE: ...They gave Dude a beeper, so whenever these guys call--
WALTER: What if it's during a game?
DUDE: I told him if it was during league play--
DONNY: If what's during league play?
WALTER: Life does not stop and start at your convenience, you miserable piece of shit.
DUDE: I figure it's easy money, it's all pretty harmless. I mean she probably kidnapped herself.
WALTER: Huh?
DONNY: What do you mean, Dude?
DUDE: Rug-peers did not do this. I mean look at it. Young trophy wife. Marries a guy for money but figures he isn't giving her enough. She owes money all over town--
WALTER: That...fucking...bitch!
DUDE: It's all a goddamn fake. Like Lenin said, look for the person who will benefit. And you will, uh, you know, you'll, uh, you know what I'm trying to say--
DUDE: Yeah, well, what do you care, Walter?
DONNY: Yeah Dude, why is Walter so pissed off?
WALTER: Those rich fucks! This whole fucking thing-- I did not watch my buddies die face down in the muck so that this fucking strumpet--
DUDE: I don't see any connection to Vietnam, Walter.
WALTER: Well, there isn't a literal connection, Dude.
DUDE: Walter, face it, there isn't any connection. It's your roll.
WALTER: Have it your way. The point is--
DUDE: It's your roll--
WALTER: The fucking point is--
DUDE: It's your roll.
QUINTANA: Are you ready to be fucked, man? I see you rolled your way into the semis. Deos mio, man. Seamus and me, we're gonna fuck you up.
DUDE: Yeah well, that's just, ya know, like, your opinion, man.
QUINTANA: Let me tell you something, bendeco. You pull any your crazy shit with us, you flash a piece out on the lanes, I'll take it away from you and stick it up your ass and pull the fucking trigger til it goes "click".
DUDE: Jesus.
QUINTANA: You said it, man. Nobody fucks with the Jesus.
DUDE: Walter--what the fuck are you thinking?
WALTER: Well you're right, Dude, I got to thinking. I got to thinking why should we settle for a measly fucking twenty grand--
DUDE: We? What the fuck we? You said you just wanted to come along--
WALTER: My point, Dude, is why should we settle for twenty grand when we can keep the entire million. Am I wrong?
DUDE: Yes you're wrong. This isn't a fucking game, Walter--
WALTER: It is a fucking game. You said so yourself, Dude--she kidnapped herself--
DUDE: Dude here.
VOICE: Who is this?
DUDE: Dude the Bagman. Where do you want us to go?
VOICE: ... Us?
DUDE: Shit... Uh, yeah, you know, me and the driver. I'm not handling the money and driving the car and talking on the phone all by my fucking--
VOICE: Shut the fuck up. Hello?
DUDE: Yeah?
VOICE: Okay, listen--
WALTER: Dude, are you fucking this up?
VOICE: Who is that?
DUDE: The driver man, I told you--
DUDE: Oh shit. Walter.
WALTER: What the fuck is going on there?
DUDE: They hung up, Walter! You fucked it up! You fucked it up!
DUDE: Terrific, Walter. But you haven't told me how we get her back. Where is she?
WALTER: That's the simple part, Dude. When we make the handoff, I grab the guy and beat it out of him.
WALTER: ...Huh?
DUDE: Yeah. That's a great plan, Walter. That's fucking ingenious, if I understand it correctly. That's a Swiss fucking watch.
WALTER: Thaaat's right, Dude. The beauty of this is its simplicity. If the plan gets too complex something always goes wrong. If there's one thing I learned in Nam--
VOICE: You are approaching a vooden britch. When you cross it you srow ze bag from ze left vindow of ze moving kar. Do not slow down. Vee vatch you.
DUDE: FUCK.
WALTER: What'd he say? Where's the hand- off?
DUDE: There is no fucking hand-off, Walter! At a wooden bridge we throw the money out of the car!
WALTER: Huh?
DUDE: We throw the money out of the moving car!
WALTER: We can't do that, Dude. That fucks up our plan.
DUDE: Well call them up and explain it to 'em, Walter! Your plan is so fucking simple, I'm sure they'd fucking understand it! That's the beauty of it Walter!
DUDE: Walter!
WALTER: Your wheel, Dude! I'm rolling out!
DUDE: What the fuck?
WALTER: Your wheel! At fifteen em-pee-aitch I roll out! I double back, grab one of 'em and beat it out of him! The uzi!
DUDE: Uzi?
WALTER: You didn't think I was rolling out of here naked!
WALTER: Ahh fuck it, let's go bowling.
DONNY: They posted the next round of the tournament--
WALTER: Donny, shut the f--when do we play?
DONNY: This Saturday. Quintana and--
WALTER: Saturday! Well they'll have to reschedule.
DUDE: Walter, what'm I gonna tell Lebowski?
WALTER: I told that fuck down at the league office-- who's in charge of scheduling?
DUDE: Walter--
DONNY: Burkhalter.
WALTER: I told that kraut a fucking thousand times I don't roll on shabbas.
DONNY: It's already posted.
WALTER: WELL THEY CAN FUCKING UN-POST IT!
DONNY: How come you don't roll on Saturday, Walter?
WALTER: I'm shomer shabbas.
DONNY: What's that, Walter?
WALTER: Saturday is shabbas. Jewish day of rest. Means I don't work, I don't drive a car, I don't fucking ride in a car, I don't handle money, I don't turn on the oven, and I sure as shit don't fucking roll!
DONNY: Sheesh.
WALTER: Really, Dude, you surprise me. They're not gonna kill shit. They're not gonna do shit. What can they do? Fuckin' amateurs. And meanwhile, look at the bottom line. Who's sitting on a million fucking dollars? Am I wrong?
DUDE: Walter--
WALTER: Who's got a fucking million fucking dollars parked in the trunk of our car out here?
DUDE: "Our" car, Walter?
WALTER: And what do they got, Dude? My dirty undies. My fucking whites--Say, where is the car?
DONNY: Who has your undies, Walter?
WALTER: Where's your car, Dude?
DUDE: You don't know, Walter? You seem to know the answer to everything else!
WALTER: Hmm. Well, we were in a handicapped spot. It, uh, it was probably towed.
DUDE: It's been stolen, Walter! You fucking know it's been stolen!
WALTER: Well, certainly that's a possibility, Dude--
DUDE: Aw, fuck it.
DUDE: 1972 Pontiac LeBaron.
YOUNGER COP: Color?
DUDE: Green. Some brown, or, uh, rust, coloration.
YOUNGER COP: And was there anything of value in the car?
DUDE: Huh? Oh. Yeah. Tape deck. Couple of Creedence tapes. And there was a, uh... my briefcase.
YOUNGER COP: In the briefcase?
DUDE: Papers. Just papers. You know, my papers. Business papers.
YOUNGER COP: And what do you do, sir?
DUDE: I'm unemployed.
VOICE: Does the female form make you uncomfortable, Mr. Lebowski?
DUDE: Is that what that's a picture of?
MAUDE: In a sense, yes. Elfranco, my robe. My art has been commended as being strongly vaginal. Which bothers some men. The word itself makes some men uncomfortable. Vagina.
DUDE: Oh yeah?
MAUDE: Yes, they don't like hearing it and find it difficult to say. Whereas without batting an eye a man will refer to his "dick" or his "rod" or his "Johnson".
DUDE: "Johnson"?
MAUDE: All right, Mr. Lebowski, let's get down to cases. My father told me he's agreed to let you have the rug, but it was a gift from me to my late mother, and so was not his to give. Now. As for this... "kidnapping"--
DUDE: Huh?
MAUDE: Yes, I know about it. And I know that you acted as courier. And let me tell you something: the whole thing stinks to high heaven.
DUDE: Right, but let me explain something about that rug--
MAUDE: Do you like sex, Mr. Lebowski?
DUDE: Excuse me?
MAUDE: Sex. The physical act of love. Coitus. Do you like it?
DUDE: I was talking about my rug.
MAUDE: You're not interested in sex?
DUDE: You mean coitus?
MAUDE: I like it too. It's a male myth about feminists that we hate sex. It can be a natural, zesty enterprise. But unfortunately there are some people--it is called satyriasis in men, nymphomania in women--who engage in it compulsively and without joy.
DUDE: Oh, no.
MAUDE: Yes Mr. Lebowski, these unfortunate souls cannot love in the true sense of the word. Our mutual acquaintance Bunny is one of these.
SECOND CHAUFFEUR: Into the limo, you sonofabitch. No arguments.
DUDE: Fuck, man! There's a beverage here!
LEBOWSKI: Where's my goddamn money, you bum?!
DUDE: Well we--I don't--
LEBOWSKI: They did not receive the money, you nitwit! They did not receive the goddamn money. HER LIFE WAS IN YOUR HANDS!
BRANDT: This is our concern, Dude.
DUDE: No, man, nothing is fucked here--
LEBOWSKI: NOTHING IS FUCKED! THE GODDAMN PLANE HAS CRASHED INTO THE MOUNTAIN!
DUDE: C'mon man, who're you gonna believe? Those guys are--we dropped off the damn money--
LEBOWSKI: WHAT?!
DUDE: I--the royal we, you know, the editorial--I dropped off the money, exactly as per--Look, I've got certain information, certain things have come to light, and uh, has it ever occurred to you, man, that given the nature of all this new shit, that, uh, instead of running around blaming me, that this whole thing might just be, not, you know, not just such a simple, but uh--you know?
LEBOWSKI: What in God's holy name are you blathering about?
DUDE: I'll tell you what I'm blathering about! I got information--new shit has come to light and--shit, man! She kidnapped herself!
DUDE: Well sure, look at it! Young trophy wife, I mean, in the parlance of our times, owes money all over town, including to known pornographers-- and that's cool, that's cool-- but I'm saying, she needs money, and of course they're gonna say they didn't get it 'cause she wants more, man, she's gotta feed the monkey, I mean-- hasn't that ever occurred to you...? Sir?
LEBOWSKI: No. No Mr. Lebowski, that had not occurred to me.
BRANDT: That had not occurred to us, Dude.
DUDE: Well, okay, you're not privy to all the new shit, so uh, you know, but that's what you pay me for. Speaking of which, would it be possible for me to get my twenty grand in cash? I gotta check this with my accountant of course, but my concern is that, you know, it could bump me into a higher tax--
WALTER: That wasn't her toe.
DUDE: Whose toe was it, Walter?
WALTER: How the fuck should I know? I do know that nothing about it indicates--
DUDE: The nail polish, Walter.
WALTER: Fine, Dude. As if it's impossible to get some nail polish, apply it to someone else's toe--
DUDE: Someone else's--where the fuck are they gonna--
WALTER: You want a toe? I can get you a toe, believe me. There are ways, Dude. You don't wanna know about it, believe me.
DUDE: But Walter--
WALTER: I'll get you a toe by this afternoon--with nail polish. These fucking amateurs. They send us a toe, we're supposed to shit our- selves with fear. Jesus Christ. My point is--
DUDE: They're gonna kill her, Walter, and then they're gonna kill me--
WALTER: Well that's just, that's the stress talking, Dude. So far we have what looks to me like a series of victimless crimes--
DUDE: What about the toe?
WALTER: FORGET ABOUT THE FUCKING TOE!
WAITRESS Could you please keep your voices down--this is a family restaurant.
WALTER: Oh, please dear! I've got news for you: the Supreme Court has roundly rejected prior restraint!
DUDE: Walter, this isn't a First Amendment thing.
WAITRESS Sir, if you don't calm down I'm going to have to ask you to leave.
WALTER: Lady, I got buddies who died face- down in the muck so you and I could enjoy this family restaurant!
DUDE: Hey! This is a private residence, man!
FIRST MAN: Vee vant zat money, Lebowski.
SECOND MAN: You think veer kidding und making mit de funny stuff?
THIRD MAN: Vee could do things you only dreamed of, Lebowski.
SECOND MAN: Ja, vee could really do it, Lebowski. Vee belief in nossing.
DUDE: Jesus!
DIETER: Vee belief in nossing, Lebowski! NOSSING!!
DUDE: Jesus Christ!
FIRST MAN: Tomorrow vee come back und cut off your chonson.
DUDE: Excuse me?
FIRST MAN: I SAY VEE CUT OFF YOUR CHONSON!
SECOND MAN: Just sink about zat, Lebowski.
FIRST MAN: Ja, your viggly penis, Lebowski.
SECOND MAN: Ja, und maybe vee stamp on it und skvush it, Lebowski!
DONNY: And then they're gonna stamp on it?!
WALTER: Oh for Christ--will you shut the fuck up, Donny.
DUDE: I figure my only hope is that the big Lebowski kills me before the Germans can cut my dick off.
WALTER: Now that is ridiculous, Dude. No one is going to cut your dick off.
DUDE: Thanks Walter.
WALTER: Not if I have anything to say about it.
DUDE: Yeah, thanks Walter. That gives me a very secure feeling.
WALTER: Dude--
DUDE: That makes me feel all warm inside.
WALTER: Now Dude--
DUDE: This whole fucking thing--I could be sitting here with just pee-stains on my rug.
WALTER: Fucking Germans. Nothing changes. Fucking Nazis.
DONNY: They were Nazis, Dude?
WALTER: Come on, Donny, they were threatening castration!
DONNY: Uh-huh.
WALTER: Are you gonna split hairs?
DONNY: No--
WALTER: Am I wrong?
DONNY: Well--
DUDE: They're nihilists.
WALTER: Huh?
DUDE: They kept saying they believe in nothing.
WALTER: And let's also not forget--let's not forget, Dude--that keeping wildlife, an amphibious rodent, for uh, domestic, you know, within the city-- that isn't legal either.
DUDE: What're you, a fucking park ranger now?
WALTER: No, I'm--
DUDE: Who gives a shit about the fucking marmot!
WALTER: --We're sympathizing here, Dude--
DUDE: Fuck your sympathy! I don't need your sympathy, man, I need my fucking Johnson!
DONNY: What do you need that for, Dude?
WALTER: You gotta buck up, man, you can't go into the tournament with this negative attitude--
DUDE: Fuck the tournament! Fuck you, Walter!
WALTER: Fuck the tournament?!
THE STRANGER: One a those days, huh. Wal, a wiser fella than m'self once said, sometimes you eat the bar and sometimes the bar, wal, he eats you.
DUDE: Uh-huh. That some kind of Eastern thing?
THE STRANGER Far from it.
THE STRANGER: I like your style, Dude.
DUDE: Well I like your style too, man. Got a whole cowboy thing goin'.
THE STRANGER: Thankie... Just one thing, Dude. D'ya have to use s'many cuss words?
DUDE: The fuck are you talking about?
WALTER: He lives in North Hollywood on Radford, near the In-and-Out Burger--
DUDE: The In-and-Out Burger is on Camrose.
WALTER: Near the In-and-Out Burger--
DONNY: Those are good burgers, Walter.
WALTER: Shut the fuck up, Donny. This kid is in the ninth grade, Dude, and his father is--are you ready for this?-- Arthur Digby Sellers.
DUDE: Who the fuck is that?
WALTER: Huh?
DUDE: Who the fuck is Arthur Digby Sellers?
DONNY: We'll be near the In-and-Out Burger.
WALTER: Shut the fuck up, Donny. We'll, uh, brace the kid--he'll be a pushover. We'll get that fucking money, if he hasn't spent it already. Million fucking clams. And yes, we'll be near the, uh--some burgers, some beers, a few laughs. Our fucking troubles are over, Dude.
DUDE: Fuck me, man! That kid's already spent all the money!
WALTER: Hardly Dude, a new 'vette? The kid's still got, oh, 96 to 97 thousand, depending on the options.
PILAR: See down, Sweetie. These are the policeman--
WALTER: No ma'am, I didn't mean to give the impression that we're police exactly. We're hoping that it will not be necessary to call the police. But that is up to little Larry here. Isn't it, Larry?
WALTER: Is this your homework, Larry?
WALTER: Is this your homework, Larry?
DUDE: Look, man, did you--
WALTER: Dude, please!... Is this your homework, Larry?
DUDE: Just ask him if he--ask him about the car, man!
WALTER: Is this yours, Larry? Is this your homework, Larry?
DUDE: Is the car out front yours?
WALTER: Is this your homework, Larry?
DUDE: We know it's his fucking homework, Walter! Where's the fucking money, you little brat?
WALTER: Look, Larry... Have you ever heard of Vietnam?
DUDE: Oh, for Christ's sake, Walter!
WALTER: You're going to enter a world of pain, son. We know that this is your homework. We know you stole a car--
DUDE: And the fucking money!
WALTER: And the fucking money. And we know that this is your homework, Larry. You're gonna KILL your FATHER, Larry!.
WALTER: This is what happens when you FUCK a STRANGER in the ASS, Larry. Fucking language problem, Dude.
WALTER: Maybe he'll understand this. YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS, LARRY! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS?! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK A STRANGER IN THE ASS! HERE'S WHAT HAPPENS, LARRY! HERE'S WHAT HAPPENS! FUCK A STRANGER IN THE ASS!
MAN: WHAT THE FUCK JOO DOING, MANG?! I JUS' BAWDEEZ FUCKEEN CAR LASS WEEK!
WALTER: Hunh?
MAN: I KILL JOO, MANG! I--I KILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR!
DUDE: No! No! NO! THAT'S NOT--
MAN: I FUCKEEN KILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR! I KILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR! I KILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR!
DUDE: I accept your apology... No I, I just want to handle it myself from now on... No. That has nothing to do with it... .Yes, it made it home, I'm calling from home. No, Walter, it didn't look like Larry was about to crack.
Well that's your perception... Well you're right, Walter, and the unspoken Message is FUCK YOU AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE... Yeah, I'll be at practice.
TREEHORN: Regrettably, it's true, standards have fallen in adult entertainment. It's video, Dude. Now that we're competing with the amateurs, we can't afford to invest that little extra in story, production value, feeling. People forget that the brain is the biggest erogenous zone--
DUDE: On you, maybe.
TREEHORN: Of course, you do get the good with the bad. The new technology permits us to do exciting things with interactive erotic software. Wave of the future, Dude. 100% electronic.
DUDE: Uh-huh. Well, I still jerk off manually.
CHIEF: Mr. Treehorn tells us that he had to eject you from his garden party, that you were drunk and abusive.
DUDE: That guy treats women like objects, man.
CHIEF: Mr. Treehorn draws a lot of water in this town, Lebowski. You don't draw shit. We got a nice quiet beach community here, and I aim to keep it nice and quiet. So let me make something plain. I don't like you sucking around bothering our citizens, Lebowski. I don't like your jerk- off name, I don't like your jerk-off face, I don't like your jerk- off behavior, and I don't like you, jerk- off --do I make myself clear?
DUDE: I'm sorry, I wasn't listening.
DUDE: Jesus, man, can you change the station?
DRIVER: Fuck you man! You don't like my fucking music, get your own fucking cab!
DUDE: I've had a--
DRIVER: I pull over and kick your ass out, man!
DUDE: --had a rough night, and I hate the fucking Eagles, man--
DRIVER: That's it! Outta this fucking cab!
DUDE: Jesus.
MAUDE: Jeffrey.
DUDE: Maude?
MAUDE: Love me.
DUDE: That's my robe.
DUDE: Walter, if you're there, pick up the fucking phone. Pick it up, Walter, this is an emergency. I'm not--
WALTER: Dude?
DUDE: Walter, listen, I'm at my place, I need you to come pick me up--
WALTER: I can't drive, Dude, it's erev shabbas.
DUDE: Huh?
WALTER: Erev shabbas. I can't drive. I'm not even supposed to pick up the phone, unless it's an emergency.
DUDE: It is a fucking emergency.
WALTER: I understand. That's why I picked up the phone.
DUDE: THEN WHY CAN'T YOU--fuck, never mind, just call Donny then, and ask him to--
WALTER: Dude, I'm not supposed to make calls--
DUDE: WALTER, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, WE GOTTA GO TO PASADENA! COME PICK ME UP OR I'M OFF THE FUCKING BOWLING TEAM!
DUDE: Who the fuck are you? Why've you been following me? Come on, fuckhead!
MAN: Hey, relax man, I'm a brother shamus.
DUDE: Brother Shamus? Like an Irish monk?
MAN: Irish m--What the fuck are you talking about? My name's Da Fino! I'm a private snoop! Like you, man!
DUDE: Huh?
DA FINO: A dick, man! And let me tell you something: I dig your work. Playing one side against the other--in bed with everybody--fabulous stuff, man.
DUDE: I'm not a--ah, fuck it, just stay away from my fucking lady friend, man.
DA FINO: Hey hey, I'm not messing with your special lady--
DUDE: She's not my special lady, she's my fucking lady friend. I'm just helping her conceive, man!
DA FINO: Hey, man, I'm not--
DUDE: Who're you working for? Lebowski? Jackie Treehorn?
DA FINO: The Gundersons.
DUDE: The? Who the fff--
DUDE: I mean we totally fucked it up, man. We fucked up his pay-off. And got the kidnappers all pissed off, and the big Lebowski yelled at me a lot, but he didn't do anything. Huh?
WALTER: Well it's, sometimes the cathartic, uh.
DUDE: I'm saying if he knows I'm a fuck- up, then why does he still leave me in charge of getting back his wife? Because he fucking doesn't want her back, man! He's had enough! He no longer digs her! It's all a show! But then, why didn't he give a shit about his million bucks? I mean, he knew we didn't hand off his briefcase, but he never asked for it back.
WALTER: What's your point, Dude?
DUDE: His million bucks was never in it, man! There was no money in that briefcase! He was hoping they'd kill her! You throw out a ringer for a ringer!
WALTER: Yeah?
DUDE: Shit yeah!
WALTER: Okay, but how does all this add up to an emergency?
DUDE: Huh?
WALTER: I'm saying, I see what you're getting at, Dude, he kept the money, but my point is, here we are, it's shabbas, the sabbath, which I'm allowed to break only if it's a matter of life and death--
DUDE: Walter, come off it. You're not even fucking Jewish, you're--
WALTER: What the fuck are you talking about?
DUDE: You're fucking Polish Catholic--
WALTER: What the fuck are you talking about? I converted when I married Cynthia! Come on, Dude!
DUDE: Yeah, and you were--
WALTER: You know this!
DUDE: And you were divorced five fucking years ago.
WALTER: Yeah? What do you think happens when you get divorced? You turn in your library card? Get a new driver's license? Stop being Jewish?
DUDE: This driveway.
WALTER: I'm as Jewish as fucking Tevye.
DUDE: It's just part of your whole sick Cynthia thing. Taking care of her fucking dog. Going to her fucking synagogue. You're living in the fucking past.
WALTER: Three thousand years of beautiful tradition, from Moses to Sandy Koufax-- YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I LIVE IN THE PAST! I--Jesus. What the hell happened?
DUDE: Where'd she been?
BRANDT: Visiting friends of hers in Palm Springs. Just picked up and left, never bothered to tell us.
DUDE: But I guess she told Dieter.
WALTER: Jesus, Dude! He never even kidnapped her.
BRANDT: Who's this gentleman, Dude?
WALTER: Who'm I? I'm a fucking VETERAN!
LEBOWSKI: Well, she's back. No thanks to you.
DUDE: Where's the money, Lebowski?
WALTER: A MILLION BUCKS FROM FUCKING NEEDY LITTLE URBAN ACHIEVERS! YOU ARE SCUM, MAN!
LEBOWSKI: Who the hell is he?
WALTER: I'll tell you who I am! I'm the guy who's gonna KICK YOUR PHONY GOLDBRICKING ASS!
DUDE: We know the briefcase was empty, man. We know you kept the million bucks yourself.
LEBOWSKI: Well, you have your story, I have mine. I say I entrusted the money to you, and you stole it.
WALTER: AS IF WE WOULD EVER DREAM OF TAKING YOUR BULLSHIT MONEY!
DUDE: You thought Bunny'd been kidnapped and you could use it as a pretext to make some money disappear. All you needed was a sap to pin it on, and you'd just met me. You thought, hey, a deadbeat, a loser, someone the square community won't give a shit about.
LEBOWSKI: Well? Aren't you?
DUDE: Well... yeah.
WALTER: Sure you'll see some tank battles. But fighting in desert is very different from fighting in canopy jungle.
DUDE: Uh-huh.
WALTER: I mean 'Nam was a foot soldier's war whereas, uh, this thing should be a fucking cakewalk. I mean I had an M16, Jacko, not an Abrams fucking tank. Just me and Charlie, man, eyeball to eyeball.
DUDE: Yeah.
WALTER: That's fuckin' combat. The man in the black pyjamas, Dude. Worthy fuckin' adversary.
DONNY: Who's in pyjamas, Walter?
WALTER: Shut the fuck up, Donny.
QUINTANA: What's this "day of rest" shit, man?! What is this bullshit, man? I don't fucking care! It don't matter to Jesus! But you're not fooling me! You might fool the fucks in the league office, but you don't fool Jesus! It's bush league psych-out stuff! Laughable, man! I would've fucked you in the ass Saturday, I'll fuck you in the ass next Wednesday instead! You got a date Wednesday, man!
WALTER: He's cracking.
DUDE: They finally did it. They killed my fucking car.
DIETER: Vee vant zat money, Lebowski.
KIEFFER: Ja, uzzervize vee kill ze girl.
FRANZ: Ja, it seems you forgot our little deal, Lebowski.
DUDE: You don't have the fucking girl, dipshits. We know you never did. So you've got nothin' on my Johnson.
DONNY: Are these the Nazis, Walter?
WALTER: They're nihilists, Donny, nothing to be afraid of.
DIETER: Vee don't care. Vee still vant zat money or vee fuck you up.
KIEFFER Ja, vee still vant ze money. Vee sreaten you.
WALTER: Fuck you. Fuck the three of you.
DUDE: Hey, cool it Walter.
WALTER: There's no ransom if you don't have a fucking hostage. That's what ransom is. Those are the fucking rules.
DIETER: Zere ARE no ROOLZ!
WALTER: NO RULES! YOU CABBAGE-EATING SONS- OF- BITCHES--
KIEFFER His girlfriend gafe up her toe! She sought we'd be getting million dollars! Iss not fair!
WALTER: Fair! WHO'S THE FUCKING NIHILIST HERE! WHAT ARE YOU, A BUNCH OF FUCKING CRYBABIES?!
DUDE: Hey, cool it Walter. Listen, pal, there never was any money. The big Lebowski gave me an empty briefcase, man, so take it up with him.
WALTER: AND I'D LIKE MY UNDIES BACK!
DONNY: Are they gonna hurt us, Walter?
WALTER: They won't hurt us, Donny. These men are cowards.
DIETER: Okay. Vee take ze money you haf on you und vee call it eefen.
WALTER: Fuck you.
DUDE: Come on, Walter, we're ending this thing cheap.
WALTER: What's mine is mine.
DUDE: Come on, Walter!.
DUDE: Four dollars here!
DUDE: Almost five!
DONNY: I got eighteen dollars, Dude.
WALTER: What's mine is mine.
DUDE: Hy God! They shot him, Walter!
WALTER: No Dude.
DUDE: They shot Donny!
WALTER: There weren't any shots.
DUDE: Then what's...
WALTER: It's a heart attack.
DUDE: Wha.
WALTER: Call the medics, Dude.
DUDE: Wha... Donny--
WALTER: Hurry Dude. I'd go but I'm pumping blood. Might pass out.
MAN: Hello, gentlemen. You are the bereaved?
DUDE: Yeah man.
MAN: Francis Donnelly. Pleased to meet you.
DUDE: Jeffrey Lebowski.
WALTER: Walter Sobchak.
DUDE: The Dude, actually. Is what, uh.
DONNELLY: Excuse me?
DUDE: Nothing.
DONNELLY: Yes. I understand you're taking away the remains.
WALTER: Yeah.
DONNELLY: We have the urn.
DONNELLY: And I assume this is credit card?
WALTER: Yeah. What's this?
DONNELLY: That is for the urn.
WALTER: Don't need it. We're scattering the ashes.
DONNELLY: Yes, so we were informed. However, we must of course transmit the remains to you in a receptacle.
WALTER: This is a hundred and eighty dollars.
DONNELLY: Yes sir. It is our most modestly priced receptacle.
DUDE: Well can we--
WALTER: A hundred and eighty dollars?!
DONNELLY: They range up to three thousand.
WALTER: Yeah, but we're--
DUDE: Can we just rent it from you?
DONNELLY: Sir, this is a mortuary, not a rental house.
WALTER: We're scattering the fucking ashes!
DUDE: Walter--
WALTER: JUST BECAUSE WE'RE BEREAVED DOESN'T MEAN WE'RE SAPS!
DONNELLY: Sir, please lower your voice--
DUDE: Hey man, don't you have something else you could put it in?
DONNELLY: That is our most modestly priced receptacle.
WALTER: GODDAMNIT! IS THERE A RALPH'S AROUND HERE?!
WALTER: Donny was a good bowler, and a good man. He was... He was one of us. He was a man who loved the outdoors, and bowling, and as a surfer explored the beaches of southern California from Redondo to Calabassos. And he was an avid bowler. And a good friend. He died--he died as so many of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom you took him, Lord. As you took so many bright flowering young men, at Khe San and Lan Doc and Hill 364. These young men gave their lives. And Donny too. Donny who... who loved bowling.
And so, Theodore--Donald--Karabotsos, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your mortal remains to the bosom of the Pacific Ocean, which you loved so well.
Goodnight, sweet prince.
WALTER: Shit, I'm sorry Dude.
WALTER: Goddamn wind.
DUDE: Goddamnit Walter! You fucking asshole!
WALTER: Dude! Dude, I'm sorry!
DUDE: You make everything a fucking travesty!
WALTER: Dude, I'm--it was an accident!
DUDE: What about that shit about Vietnam!
WALTER: Dude, I'm sorry--
DUDE: What the fuck does Vietnam have to do with anything! What the fuck were you talking about?!
WALTER: Shit Dude, I'm sorry--
DUDE: You're a fuck, Walter!
WALTER: Awww, fuck it Dude. Let's go bowling.
THE STRANGER: I don't know about you, but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there, the Dude, takin' her easy for all us sinners. Shoosh. I sure hope he makes The finals. Welp, that about does her, wraps her all up. Things seem to've worked out pretty good for the Dude'n Walter, and it was a purt good story, dontcha think? Made me laugh to beat the band. Parts, anyway. Course--I didn't like seein' Donny go. But then, happen to know that there's a little Lebowski on the way. I guess that's the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuatin' it-self, down through the generations, westward the wagons, across the sands a time until-- aw, look at me, I'm ramblin' again. Wal, uh hope you folks enjoyed yourselves.

Gee Greg, Maybe you should have shut your mouth?

For Immediate Release
April 8, 2008

MEDIA RELEASE
TREK TO IMMEDIATELY SEVER RELATIONSHIP WITH GREG LEMOND
Move Comes in Response to LeMond Threats,
Ongoing “pattern of inconsistent business dealings”
Waterloo, WI — At an employee meeting held today, John Burke, President of Trek Bicycle
Corporation, announced that Trek has filed suit in Federal Court in Madison, WI, to sever the
company’s ongoing relationship with three-time Tour de France winner Greg LeMond.
“Beginning in 1995 we had high hopes for the LeMond partnership,” said John Burke,
president of Trek Bicycle Corporation. “And I am sorry it has come to this after so much hard
work on the LeMond brand. But this troubling pattern of inconsistent business dealings forced
us to do this, for the sake of the Trek family—our retailers, employees and customers.”
Since 1995, Trek has licensed the LeMond brand name and has produced road bicycles under
the LeMond Racing Cycles name.
The move by Trek has come on the heels of LeMond serving Trek with a 41-page suit on
March 20, 2008, to be filed in Minneapolis, Minnesota. LeMond’s suit was characterized by
Burke as containing false and irresponsible allegations which “forced us to immediately end
our relationship with Greg.”
The action filed by Trek Bicycle Corporation against Greg LeMond asks the court for
declaratory judgment against LeMond and asks that the relationship be terminated due to
multiple breaches of the contract. The breach of contract claims are based on LeMond’s
ongoing pattern of public statements and actions which Trek believes have continued to be
detrimental to the Trek-licensed LeMond Racing Cycles name and trademark, to the Trek
brand as a whole, and to the Trek reputation in the global bicycle market.
At the employee meeting, Burke presented a timeline of the Trek business relationship with
LeMond and the development of the LeMond brand.
Trek Bicycle Corporation began its business relationship with LeMond in 1995 and, since then,
has produced the LeMond Racing Cycles brand of road bikes. In 1999, the LeMond line was
one of the fastest growing road bike brands and one of the top five largest road bike brands in
the United States.
The presentation highlighted the ongoing issues with the relationship, its impact on the
LeMond and Trek brands and the reasons for the decision to sever the relationship. Despite a
series of innovative designs and continued support from Trek, due to LeMond’s actions and

the public response, the LeMond brand has consistently failed to live up to its potential in the
marketplace.
“For years, Trek has tried our best to make this relationship work. And for years, Greg
LeMond has done and said things that have damaged the LeMond brand and the Trek brand
as a whole,” said Burke. “His actions are inconsistent with our values—values we believe in
and live everyday. And after years of trying to make it work, we are done. It’s time to sever this
relationship and allow Trek to do what it does best—build the world’s greatest bicycles and
provide our customers with a great product and exceptional customer service.”

Martinez Criterium April 5, 2008 Masters 45's 1234

Martinez Criterium April 5, 2008 Masters 45's

Peter Allen
Gregg Betonte

Martinez Criterium is a classic downtown crit with six turns, rough road surface and some pretty good money for a Nor Cal race. I had donet his race before as some others have also, and we all know, that ifyou attack this course early, things can break up. As Greg and I were commuting down to the race, we had discussed our strategy and had a plan in mind. That was to be aggressive, challenge every move off the front, but not be overly aggressive and not be able to cover attacks.First lap of the race a VOS rider, Rich V., goes on the gun, and opens up a 15 second lead. Not to worried both Greg and I just stayed close to the front wasprepared to jump when the first move goes down. On lap 4 or 5, Dan Smith of Morgan attacks hard and I just followed his wheel to cover this move. We both jumped across to the "Rich the VOS Rider" and Bob Parker of Webcor was also in tow. We went around for 1 lap pretty hard, and I looked back and saw Gregg smiling as he was sitting right on Kevin Metcalf's "Team Specialized" wheel. At that point I know this was our chance to I put the foot to the pedal, applied that"Diesel" and off we went. The nice thing about this course and most tight cornered crits, as soon as you get clear and out of site, youcan put on a lot of time real quickly. We went up 25 seconds very fast, and a one point some one had yelled that we could lap the field. I was not so anxious to lap the field, that would have made things more confusing and put the advantage on Morgan had we done that. Mean time, Gregg was in the field, playing the "Soldier", as he called it and carried out the plan for the day. According to Gregg, Metcalf, gave him a great work out, but couldn't get clear and some frustration began to show.As for the finish, it really was not a classic dog fight at the end,my breakaway group attempted to attack on the last lap, with Rich going on the bell and then Dan Smith attacking the back side, and BobParker not doing any thing, and, me getting the lead and holding it onthe last stretch for the win! As for Gregg, he put down a, "in your face", double dare ya, good ole'd fashioned ass whoopin sprint on two of the areas 45's masters sprinters, Steve Gregarious and "Former National Champion", Don "The Langster" Langley. For what I heard, Gregg accelerated once, and then twice to really show his quickness, and let the others know that Old Guys can be fast!Great race teammate! As for the Masters 35's, I'll let others contribute there witnessing of a "Crash Fest", or as Gregg and I described, a mine field explosion!
Peter

Did BBI really fall for this?

OK, okay! BBI sent me this AFTER he applied it to his CARBON bike - Bad BBI, No bone! -

From Cycling News

Carbon fibre performance for everyone?

Carbon-wrapped aluminum seems to be the next frontier of materials technology and at least one company thinks the benefits may be easier to come by than previously thought.

We’re reasonably firm believers in the advantages of carbon-wrapped aluminum parts over their non-wrapped counterparts. When properly executed (purely cosmetic samples are obviously excluded from this group), the resultant components do seem to be nearly as stiff as full carbon parts but the aluminum cores retain the ductile failure mechanisms associated with most metals.
However, when Colorado retailer Chris Jacobsen first informed us of his intriguing Jacobsen Carbon Wrap-It system, we were sceptical. Jacobsen proposed that consumers could wrap their own frames and parts and achieve nearly the same results as far more expensive factory jobs. As such, his rather inexpensive do-it-yourself kit could transform relatively mundane aluminum frames, forks, stems, bars, or nearly any other bit into a stronger and stiffer equivalent, all at a surprisingly reasonable cost as well.

The kit is rather straightforward, consisting of a roll of pre-preg carbon fibre sheet complete with an easy-to-apply adhesive backing. Frame kits include enough to treat most typical aluminum frames, large diameter ones included, while componentry kits contain enough material to treat about four or five small parts, depending on what they are.
Items to be wrapped must first be carefully cleaned using the included non-toxic solvent. After approximating the amount and shape of material required, users then simply cut the pre-preg carbon fibre sheet to size with standard household shears then wrap the material tightly around the substrate. After a 24-hour waiting period to cure the adhesive, the treated bits are ready to go. An optional kit adds a heat-activated compressive layer to the assembly to reduce cure time while also improving bond strength and reducing voids.

We decided to go straight for the gusto and wrapped an entire frame, in this case an old bonded aluminum job that had been laying fallow in storage for several years after being unceremoniously retired. Total time required was roughly an hour, although more complicated frames could easily take twice that time. The installation process was a bit messy so we’d recommend wearing gloves and laying down a tarp to protect flooring but otherwise was pleasantly straightforward.

The ride
Call us sceptics no longer as we were simply amazed at the results. Just as Jacobsen promised, ride quality was transformed from somewhat dull and lifeless to sprightly and responsive: accelerations from a standing start were lightning-quick and our tired old frame suddenly made molehills out of mountains with its newfound climbing ability. We didn’t use the optional overwrap kit but suspect that it would only have enhanced our experience here.
The added lateral rigidity was also accompanied by an unexpected helping of vertical compliance. Our new creation offered a magic carpet-like ride over even the roughest of pavement yet never relinquished road feel.
Even more unexpected, however, was the decreased weight of our guinea pig. Actual weight of our frame actually dropped about 100g; Jacobsen says other frames should yield similar results while most components should drop about 20g or so depending on what they are.
Last but not least, the added visual appeal of the fine 1K weave shouldn’t be discounted. Sadly, the kit will obviously obscure any original decals but replacements shouldn’t be too hard to come by and the end result can be finished and clearcoated by most competent painters for a truly custom look.
Jacobsen noted that more technically inclined users can also fine tune the Carbon Wrap-It system’s reinforcing characteristics to suit their needs. Just as with almost any carbon fibre fabrication procedure, the number of plies added and the direction of those plies can yield dramatically different results. The peel-and-stick nature of the kit also means that users are free to experiment until they get the desired effect.

Go figure!
The Jacobsen Carbon Wrap-It kit has proved to us once again that things that seem too good to be true can sometimes actually be everything they say they are. Our reinvigorated frame has already supplanted a full-carbon model as our everyday tester and we’re already in the process of wrapping whatever other componentry we can find.
In short, the Jacobsen Carbon Wrap-It kit offers plenty of positives with virtually no drawbacks. With such an attainable asking price, it’s an easy performance addition and well worth the time invested. Now where can we get more of this stuff?

Price: US$99.99 (frame kit); US$49.99 (componentry kit)
Weight: -100g (frame kit, on average); -20g (componentry kit, on average)
Pros: Provides nearly all of the benefits of factory-built carbon fibre but in a do-it-yourself form that can be custom tailored to the application at hand.

Cons: Installation is time consuming and a bit messy, end results are directly dependent on skill of installer

God damn BBI - not on a Carbon frame!

Product Review -

How gay. Most of us shave our legs. I don't even know why? When people ask "why do you shave your legs?" I always say "cuz your wife loves it!" Well, she does!

Anyway, my friend (the hottest Grandmother ever) Diane, wife of Skinny Tony, who is a Cat-1 shopper, turned us on to the best razor ever!

The Schick Intuition. This thing needs no shave cream as it has a surround at the head made of Aloe and other slippery stuff - all you do is shave in the shower, face, legs, chest (Roy), even your wife or girlfriends.... um, comfort zones?

Mmmmmm, Comfort Zones....

From the company:

The Schick Intuition Plus razor has three blades surrounded by a Skin Conditioning Solid. It lathers, shaves and provides extra moisture in one easy step for a close, smooth shave.
Pivoting head provides greater flexibility to follow contours while shaving
Slim, no-slip rubber handle helps maintain grip in the shower. So easy, in fact, there is no need for shave gel, soap, or body wash!

I bought mine from Target for $9.95

ServiceCourse gives this thing 5 Stars!

G S&M!

General Motors has acquired Specialized Bicycle Components, based in Morgan Hill, CA. The acquisition is expected to be completed in the third quarter of 2008 pending regulatory approval in the US, Canada and Europe. Terms of the all-share acquisition from Specialized founder and president Mike Sinyard and Merida of Taiwan were not disclosed.

"In light of global concerns about climate change, GM has been at the forefront in developing new transportation choices that limit our impact on the environment. GM's engineering and marketing and distribution expertise combined with Specialized's branding among cycling enthusiasts make this a winning combination for GM investors and consumers," said GM's vice president, Environment, Energy and Safety Policy, Flora Lopi.

Sinyard is contracted to stay on through until the end of March 2009. Robert Kruse, currently executive director of Vehicle Integration, Safety, Regional Chief Engineers and Performance Division for GM's North America engineering staff will work alongside Sinyard. No other management changes have been announced. Kruse is a keen road cyclist, having three times ridden RAGBRAI, a newspaper-sponsored annual bike ride across Iowa.
The deal, according to the San Jose Business Journal, does not include GM acquiring any of the 19 Specialized Concept Stores, a retail formula launched in 2006. All the concept stores are independently owned.
Sinyard said, "All of us here at Specialized are thrilled to be a part of GM. While Specialized remains committed to independent bicycle dealers, our products will also now be available across the nation in GM dealerships. Specialized will never be available through mass merchants. The acquisition by GM will enhance the service to the specialty retail channel, increase investments in dedicated merchandising programs, introduce sales efforts in mainstream outlets, support advocacy and the activity of cycling, invest and expand in Europe and, most important, bolster an already strong research and development budget."
GM Chairman and CEO Rick Wagoner said, "We're starting our second century at a time of fundamental change in the way we address our transportation needs. In addition to our leadership role in developing the next generation of more sustainable technologies in hybrid and alternative fuel engines, we'll leverage the unique synergies of the bicycle community to introduce some of our ideas for addressing critical issues concerning energy, the environment and globalization."
Specialized Bicycles, founded by Sinyard in Morgan Hill, CA, in 1974, designs and manufactures a complete line of high-performance bicycles and components, including the first production mountain bike, which now resides in the Smithsonian Institute, and its Body Geometry line of medically proven cycling accessories. Specialized is a company of devout cyclists whose goal is to create cutting edge, functional and technically advanced products that provide a performance benefit for the enthusiast cyclist.
In June 2001, Merida, the second-largest bicycle manufacturer in the world based in Taiwan, acquired a minority share of Specialized. Sinyard owned the majority stake.

Brisbane 35+ 123 sat & sun

The Pre-mature Ejaculator set rode around in circles covering the front n back.

Sat- 35+ 45 starters and 15 finishers..... wacky n fast.
We went off and I marked everything at the front. Bang bang - half way thru in the ft straight (ft side wind) a Kelly guy who just had to have the spot in ft of me could not hold the wheel but stayed too long and created a big gap - Now, do you except this turn of events and become the Capo of the chase group? or close.....? You close with a big pull! Hell you got Fonseca sucking your wheel, he'll come around and help. Right? I get the group there and wave that weasel fuck thru (oh harsh? Read on as its more than qualified) so I wave him thru as if my pulling off after that hit must have been misunderstood and nothing, until I get jumped and put into TT mode for the rest of the race. People were throwing tomato's at me and the jeers, my God, the jeers - no flashing from the women - complete abandonment. I did have Jason n Rob on one corner cheering and Pete on the other smiling each time passed. That did help! They thru nothing and Rob did show his tits! Little team things help, and you guys know just what to do at the right time. Thanks.
So I stayed out and finally the Ref, who I kept thinking was going to pull me, started coming out each lap and cheering each time I came thru.
The field slowly made it's way around and when the chase caught up I was behind them and River Ride "Max" swerves lightly toward Fonseca and after Fonseca rides up behind Max and hits him - Frickin hits him! Pretty hard w/ the butt of his hand - This guy needs to go. So I finished the race and that's that.
Spent the rest of the day dieing from allergies - I love spring but man it reeks havoc n my lungs.

Sun 35+
Fast fun race - no problem with the hill. I pulled away on the hill and rode off the front for two laps early in the race. I find if I do this and ride an open course early I get a chance to see it empty at speed and open myself up - plus it looks good to the crowd to have our name out there. The rest of the race was pretty good n fun. For me I think our mistake was taking up the ft in the end. Pete came by me and we fell into what seems to be a good routine for the two of us. Pete picked up the pace and we both were getting into redline and Nolan jumped - I tried to follow but never made contact and was blown - this all went on too early. I really think we're "scrappers" in that situation - not filling the role of the aggressors. Not yet. Ca-mon guys, we have only 10 seconds of racing in us, we need to use it correctly - maybe in the last 9 seconds of the race? Handcock - thoughts?

The Caldwell connection.... I have no idea WTF he was doing. All I know is in the only part of the course where you don't have to pedal was fast - I showed 40mph - Caldwell hit me from my right while I was drinking -damn hard- it blew my ft wheel up n off to the side about a foot or so and I fell into his lap landing w/ my right forearm on his left thigh and then he fell into me - that saved the whole thing! My bike came right back under me and I was able to push him back away - thankfully I never changed my line or dropped my water bottle. I really like that bottle. I thanked him for not moving away and the race went on. Funny, had things been different and I had hit him, what would have been said.......

It was a great weekend. No allergies on Sun.

Tejas!......

So we all remember the former Norcal / Nevada racer known as Jed Bickel. Well for some reason he decided his chances out of state may be better.

Come and listen to a story about a man named Kirt

A poor VOS'ineer, barely kept from gettin hurt,

Then one day he was shootin at win,

And up through his legs came the thought of racer sin' crude.

Oil that is, black gold, Texas tea.

Well the first thing you know ol' Kirt's a Webcore goon,

Old teammates said Kurt move away real soon

They said Austin Texas is the place you ought to be

So he loaded up the truck and took off without a pee.

Tejas... flats, that is. Head winds, Football Crits.

Its The Bickel Hillbillies!

And from all report he's winning crits by lapping the field and Stage races by margins!

Sooooooooooo, Set a spell, take yer shoes off, but don't come back now, Ya hear!

Good job buddy!

EPO

La besta - back again cuz its sooooo good!

Hey "What was your wattage when you got runover'?

So I talked to my Coach today "How ya doing'? "Well I got hit yesterday" "Really, have you looked at my files"? "WTF"! "You got hit"?

Almost seems to be in vogue these days.... And there are far too many drivers out there willing to award you that badge of honor. But do keep in mind, according to the SF Chronicle, 90% of the time it's the Cyclist's fault. In print, must be true... doubt it? Read the other posts on this blog....Tee he he....

Here's how it went down (for this badge owner). As I don't want to reveal his idenity, lets just callllllllllll him, Brrrrrooooo, Brubaker. Yep Brubaker. Coach Brubaker. Good guy. Pretty mellow, not out there to cause any problems - just ridin his bike..... "Yep "spit", one of them dar faggots all dressed up in dat faggot costume - that's why I got dat faggot bar on front of the Ford! Don't want em to scratch the hood as they go under, Da-hahahahah "cough cough, hack, spit" "yep - them's faggot's"

Well Coach Brubaker is no faggot - he does were that faggot costume... but so do the rest of us - even them faggot girls. Ok, OK. Coach Brubaker was out on a ride when he comes upon 2 pickups stoped in the road window to window talking to each other and blocking the road. No room right. No room left. So he goes up the middle slowly with one foot out pushing himself along up the side of the bed and right to the cab or um.... in this case, the cockpit! But not a cock in the pit, just a loony Bitch who goes ape-shit on him! The thought of him to take the only open passage as the two of them are talking of barrel aged fine vintage Meth! THE NERVE! And with that, the moment he gets past the ft of her pickup she guns it and runs him over! WTF?

He falls over and pulls his feet out of the way and over the bike she goes... and then comes the excuses - "my foot slipped off the brake, I didn't mean to hit you" ah, but she did - and just wait till she finds out the bike was worth more than her frickin pickup!

Coach Brubaker is doing ok - the funny part was when I asked how the hell did ya get home?

Well, she was nice enough to give him a ride - funny how friendships are made......

BBI Bridges out!.... Flash!

Well its now official, BBI has transcended to becoming, much like the Beatles, BIGGER THAN JESUS! He's broken contract with ServiceCourse and been picked up by some sub par ski blog- hope they treat you as well as we did - Pussy....

Contrary to the impression left by a "Memorial Bridge" sign -- complete with skull and crossbones --that recently appeared next to a trail at Tahoe Donner Cross Country Ski Center in Truckee, Jonathan Laine is not dead (after seeing the posting, one acquaintance of his went home and Googled "Jonathan Laine death" and "Jonathan Laine obit" thinking she had missed media reports of a fatal accident in Truckee).
No, Laine, a 50-something ER doctor, is alive and well -- despite his best efforts, it seems, to hurt himself through various misadventures...his friends like to remind him (..after the bridge incident last year, he took a tumble on his mountain bike and broke his back... perhaps more on that at another time). The sign appears to be an attempt by his buddies not to memorialize Laine, but his epic ski.
The bridge in question stretches across a creek that meanders through the heart of Euer Valley, a favored trail system at TDXC (although the bridge is wide enough to accommodate a logging truck, it has no side railings). Laine had dropped into the Valley one evening last year, intending to glide off the stress of the day, when his tussle with the bridge began.
The snow was rutted along the edges of the ski track, he said, and half way across the bridge, his ski got caught in a rut and it pulled his leg over the edge of the bridge. He teetered there for a nanosecond before plunging over the edge, into the ice-covered creek.
Cutting his lip, Laine broke through the ice and dropped, skis, poles and all, into the water and was completely submerged in the creek -- which is 2 to 3 feet deep. He just missed becoming impaled on a piece of rusty pipe sticking up from the side of the bridge (you can see it in the photo -- it comes out from the side and shoots straight up). Laine said he came up for a breath, but had to dunk back under to reach down and unlatch his binding and take off his skis. Once released, he crawled his way up the side of the snowbank and stood -- dripping wet, with no help in sight.
Laine said he stripped down naked, and began wringing out his clothes, boots, gloves and hat, while shivering violently. He redressed, and started skiing up the trail that leads out of Euer Valley and back to his car. The physical effort helped warm him a bit, he said, but his hands were so frozen, that he could not move his fingers. It took some work to reach into his pocket, pull out his keys and open his car door.
So the good news is he survived -- but now must suffer the fallout from the Memorial sign. The teasing may be as sharp as the ice.

BBI Exposes ServiceCource!..... Clever! - ouch!

BBI, AKA JLaine has had enough-

Many thanks on the tips below. (SEE: http://servicecourse.blogspot.com/2008/03/with-little-help-for-my-friend-bbi.html )

Many will serve me well. You can be my role model from now on. A few questions though. Like on the suggestion, “Prepare thoroughly for any task so that you can be sure you are ready. 5 min. to race time - where are you?? “ Is this a dig at yourself? A reference to, “its 1 minute after the race started, which lap are you thinking of joining in on?”After your pithy list of “helpful hints” below, I now feel compelled to spill the beans on the whole situation, and the sham of a life you have been living. I will start at the top.

Sit down, prop your jaw up, as this information will cause it to drop open and hang there wider that a 4th street whore’s legs. First the identity of the kingpin here. Why, none other that the blond bombshell you are married to. Yup. KP is behind this whole charade. You with me? One under the bus, and more to come. She is so worried about your fragile psyche, and your explosive nature, that she has set up this “pseudo life” for you. SC, time to belly up to the bar, and realize that it’s not real. See, she has hired all of us to help you. Did you ever wonder why all your “friends” are losers? Why are your “pals” the kind of folks who are all, in their own way, piloting Kamikaze planes into the tarmac? Let me open your eyes to the real world. Let’s just run through the cast of characters that the kingpin has hired to sustain you in your pseudo life. (Really, could one man have so many losers hanging around if they weren’t paid to be there?) Lets start with Fat Tony, Thought I should copy you on this as well, as you only kind of qualify as a loser. After all, you did need to resort to using the web to get a date (loser), but on the plus side, you actually found the princess. So, you actually are the winner. (I will not point out that she actually is the loser, for marrying one, and will keep that thought to myself).

“Live and learn,” said the kingpin. “I’ll hire one step higher up on the loser scale for my man next time”Whoops. Her second hiring was perhaps her second misstep, after Fat Tony, and on this one she mis-stepped so hard as to break both ankles, destroy the mortise and nearly render herself a permanent cripple, and only her quick thinking in the following hires saved her from certain disaster. Who was this person who nearly derailed her loser-built scafolding to hold you up. HOT TALK!!!! “Wasss upppp?” She thought she had him on the payrole, and then he sends her a COD on a shipment he redirected to himself. He was let go right then and there. No more need be said here. Those that know him all heve their own HT stories.

So, smartly she gets her act together and goes with Sven. Bicycle racer extrodinore. Emphasize the “ex” part of that word. Relationship wizard, ebay selling furniture refinisher who doesn’t refinish furniture? Makes you look pretty good by comparison, huh? Now the Kingpin is hot, and getting cocky. Her strategy of surrounding you with “pals” out of the loser pool is working, and working well. So she goes to town and keeps hiring. Next up, and perhaps the actual star of the show? The GONDA!!!! Back from europe for another continental engagement. He’s your friend. He’s not. He’s your friend. He’s not. He’s on a ride with you. He’s not. He’s attacking. He’s not. He’s selling his house and moving away from you. He’s not. He loves the Gondarella shoe trophy. He ..., well, actually, he never loved or even liked the trophy. Never mind on that one. Whoops.

When TG starts to look a bit normal and routine, she empties the bank account and hires the only man in Truckee living the loser lifestyle 24/7/365. All loser, all the time. Not to brag too much, but, yup, this one is me - BBI: Relationship failing, bicycle crashing, non-Mercedes driving, back-breaking idiot of spectacular proportions not seen previously in these parts. Sponging for bicycle maintainance and furniture moving assistance. Wow, by comparision, I really make you look great. Again, hired, packaged and paid for by the kingpin. So there it is. All of us here for you, orchestrated by the kingpin. Sorry to crash your world. Whoops. My bad. I'm taking my house and moving!

BBI - DO NOT POST THIS ON THE BLOG. ASSHOLE.

Jesus!.........

Happy Easter My Son......

Bicyclists blamed twice as often as drivers

From Skinny Tony- Shown here blocking a handicaped parking stall - frickin bikers!

Bicyclists were twice as likely as drivers to be at fault in the nearly 2,000 collisions that killed or severely injured Bay Area bike riders in the past decade, an analysis by The Chronicle shows.
Bicycle and safety advocates say the deaths two weeks ago of two cyclists hit by a Santa Clara sheriff's deputy's cruiser should serve as a call to improve relations between cars and bikes on the roadways.
The advocates say large numbers of cyclists fail to follow the rules of the road, running stop signs and red lights, and drivers are becoming more aggressive.
"There is a juggernaut out there - the tension between the cyclists and the drivers is so high that it's become a war," said triathlon coach Marc Evans, who is starting a campaign to get the cycling community, drivers and motorcyclists to put more focus on avoiding deadly collisions on the roads.
The Chronicle's analysis of the 33,000 Bay Area collisions involving bicyclists since 1997 shows that, in the most serious accidents, the driving behaviors of bicyclists often were blamed for the crashes. Data collected by the California Highway Patrol show that bicyclists were deemed at fault in 1,165, or nearly 60 percent, of the 1,997 accidents that killed or severely injured cyclists; drivers were blamed only 520 times, or 26 percent. In most other cases, no one was listed as being at fault.
Suspicion of bias
Bicycling advocates said the statistics might in part reflect a bias among police officers, who they say often "blame the victims," especially because cyclists might not get to tell their side of the story as they are being carried off on stretchers.
"There is a prevalent perception among police officers that bikes don't belong on the road," said Leah Shahum, executive director of the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition.
Yet even the most staunch cycling advocates acknowledge that some cyclists give others a bad name by failing to obey traffic laws.
"When I see a rider run a red light, I cringe," Shahum said. "Not only is it totally unsafe, it makes me and all other cyclists look bad."
As for drivers, the data suggest their behavior is getting worse by the year.
Serious crashes
The number of serious Bay Area crashes in which cyclists were at fault has hovered at about 100 per year for the past decade, but the number in which motorists were blamed has steadily risen - from 38 in 1997 to 61 in 2006, the last full year for which data were available.
In addition, the number of accidents involving drivers hitting cyclists and then fleeing has spiked in recent years. Hit-and-run drivers killed four cyclists and severely injured 26 others in 2006 - significantly more than any other year in the past decade.
"There seems to be a natural tension between bicyclists and motorists," said Susan George, town manager of Woodside, who finds the streets in and around her hilly San Mateo County community swarming with cyclists, motorcycle riders, equestrians and drivers out for a good time on weekends and lunch hours.
Groups of dozens or even hundreds of bicyclists sometimes take over the roads, blowing through stoplights and disobeying signs, she said. At the same time, some motorists retaliate aggressively, tailgating the bicyclists, honking at them and trying to force them off the road.
"The majority of cyclists obey the rules, and the motorists, too, but then you get these outlaws," George said. "It's an ongoing battle, and in recent years the tensions have gotten worse."
Berkeley police Sgt. Mary Kusmiss said that in the past two years, her department has noticed an increase in all types of road-rage incidents.
"We get about six calls a month of road-rage cases, of people getting into screaming matches or drivers getting out of their cars and throwing their arms up," she said. "It's not just motorists and cyclists. It can be motorists and pedestrians or motorists and motorists."
Yelling at motorists
Kusmiss said the cases involving bikers can be exacerbated by the fact that in Berkeley, "some cyclists are very political about their cycling: They yell at the motorists to 'Just stop driving.' "
According to the data, when drivers were at fault in an accident, the most common type of violation cited was not giving cyclists the right of way. For bike riders, unsafe speed was the most dangerous violation, followed by riding on the wrong side of the road.
Male cyclists were almost five times more likely to be killed or severely injured than women. Fatalities and severe injury accidents affected all age groups, but riders in their 30s and 40s faired worse than others. Most common fatalities were 48-year-old males.
No one has suggested that cyclists Kristy Gough, 30, of San Leandro and Matt Peterson, 29, of San Francisco who were killed in the March 9 accident on Stevens Canyon Road in Cupertino, were at fault.
Evans, the triathlon coach who regularly trains riders in the hills of San Mateo County and was Gough's coach, said it is often the serious athletic bikers who take the most risks. He said he sees whole clubs of riders zipping through stop signs and failing to slow down.
"You get these guys who think they are Lance Armstrong or something, then they turn around and get themselves killed," Evans said.
Armstrong raised awareness about his fight against cancer with his yellow arm bracelet, and Evans hopes to start a similar bracelet campaign to promote safety among bicyclists, drivers and pedestrians.
Black-and-red armband
Evans has made the prototype of a black-and-red armband that he hopes he and others can distribute to cyclists and motorists in exchange for their promise that they will obey all traffic safety rules. George said she hopes Woodside can be a sponsor for the program.
"On the bracelets, the black is to signify our mourning for those who have been killed, and the red is to signify that you will obey all the traffic laws," said Evans, who said he believes some of the tensions on the roadway arise out of motorists' confusion about not knowing what bicyclists will do at an intersection.
"This is a huge, huge problem, and it is very out of control," he said. "What I want to do is influence cyclists, drivers and motorcyclists to obey the rules of the road."