Evil Cycling

We’re happy to have so many secret agents out there. We’re happy just to get up in the morning, though it comes with its own caveat of most likely just getting loaded again. Work? Ride!

Our version of Blue is out in Iowa, along with several other octogenarians.

Of course, there are agents out there we only dream about.

Nice bike! Wait, that is a bike, right?

Uh oh, we’ve once again crossed the line of the religious. Well, we don’t give much of a shit about religion anyhow…all that pie-in-the-sky hocus pocus shit is for crazy people. But, we do have our own version of Jesus.

Quenton sends this one in, and boy howdy it’s a winner.

What if?

What if fast food icons settled down to party with a load of drugs and some strippers? Why, it’d look like THIS, that’s what.

Folsom checks in, and apparently all systems are go there as far as Evil goes.

There’s a rash of mysterious pregnancies, most of the town’s beer stocks are seriously depleted, and there’s spent fireworks strewn about.

Looks like the plan is taking shape nicely. Here’s a pic of Casey, taken by Mark, laughing as they abscond from the site of the latest porn bomb placement. You can see her enjoyment of the task in her face. And her hat.

Some girls are bigger than others, but very few of them are bigger than Bear. But goddamned if he couldn’t wiggle his meaty little fingers into whatever was broken in our team vehicles. May our bus rest in pieces in a scrap yard in Nowhere, Iowa, where it is currently stripped, but we’re told by sleeper cell moles that high school kids still go into it to fuck and smoke pot, not necessarily in that order.

Be sure to go over to the Black Market to pre-order your kit. Do it, and do it now.

And here’s a nice reader submission from the warm climes of Miami. I wonder if he knows Tony Combs, or exactly what happened.  Thanks for the pics, people, keep them coming.

Thanks, Lucky. I think.

Not guaranteed to keep you from being a douche.
For the skinny, go here.

Holy mother of god, I didn’t think it was possible, but it would appear that humanity just finally raised the white flag and gave up on being the smartest in the animal kingdom. Now, don’t get me wrong.. I like lady bits as much as the next guy who likes lady bits, but at first glance I think that this is an abomination.

When I get into the pants of another, I don’t like surprises. No matter how sparkly they might be.

But as they say, don’t judge a man (or in this case, a seemingly ridiculous practice of adornment) until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes. So with that being said, I have actually made an appointment to get the entirety of my posterior Assjazzled, and until that time I will have to reserve my judgment.

A full conclusion as well as a review should be forthcoming.