It’s that time of year again, Interbike. For me, believe it or not, it’s my first one. Now, I’ve done more trade shows in my lifetime than should be humanely allowed, but never the Bike Porn fest that is Interbike. I’m excited. I’ll have a bag full of Evil socks and stickers, and I’ll be trying to slip something – anything – up your ass. So watch out.
Stevil, Chevil Kinevil, Sov, a few others and myself will be there for the Evils. We will all be trying to insert something into your anus, be you man, woman, or beast.
Personally, I fucking hate Las Vegas. It’s a soulless, cellophane wrapped playground of excess and retardation, where nothing and no one seems real. Now, this would be fun if dosed on some high quality acid, but since that won’t be the case, I’ll have to suffer through it with my cohorts by staying topped off with low quality beer. Sending a bunch of functional alcoholics to Vegas is a fun concept isn’t it? Name your analogy in the comments section.
With nothing much more of interest to share with you, I’ll simply sign off by apologizing for everything I’m about to do in Vegas, as well as this picture of a well lubed Stan Beaver from this past Saturday night.