Carmen (Sram product manager and sometimes Puerto Rican) brought her wonderful Schnauzer Lucky into work today. He’s a bundle of energy in addition to the bones, organs, and connective tissue that make up the rest of hisself. Lucky is eleven but you’d never guess it because he’s a dog and can’t say things like, “I am eleven years old” If he could, this blog post would be re-titled “The Freakiest Day of My Life”. Here are some of photos of Lucky. Have a frank and productive weekend.
Don’t let the smile fool you, he’s actually much sweeter.
Like most purchasers and their family, he eats his meals off the floor without silverware.
Yatch (receiving guru) and his son Jaylen participated in the Run Hard 5k Saturday morning. The grueling 3.1 mile course was a piece of cake for the youngest member of “The Yatch Club” (like Yacht Club, but Yatch, Anagram-tastic!) as he dominated everything in a pair of running sneakers. Apparently a couple of Hawley slackers (Teenwolf and Tipper) rode in front of the runners to keep the course clear and demonstrate what a “mechanically deficient pedal stroke” looks like. That’s Yatch’s term for “wonk leg”. Anyhoo, everybody had a solid time and once again the world’s population is redeemed by the love of a father and his son, like in that movie.
We had ourselves a most righteous pumpkin carving contest yetta’day. I think it was the fourth annual but in all honesty, the pumpkins are starting to blur into one another. As usual, J-Town (shipping) was the favorite but Brian (purchasing) pulled out the upset victory. His simple yet evocative penny farthing beat J-Town’s audacious but wholly superficial turntable pumpkin by a slim margin. Bloggy was standing next to Harold (fabricator, creator of worlds) during the judging and overheard the elder say to himself, “The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful… What the beautiful is is another question” Truer words have never been quoted dear Harold!
Later that day, a motley gang of characters was spotted outside. On the far right, pretty sure that’s Edgar Winter’s younger brother. Have a frank and productive weekend…
She floated into our office without a name, without a resume and without a living brain cell. The vacant stare and thin rivulet of drool that constantly dribbled down her chin were cause for concern, but she’s stolen our hearts… in addition to our precious Masterlinks:
Knowing she’s on the chopping block this early into her burgeoning career, she’s started currying favor with El Hefe:
Josh had jury duty or the flu or whatever so he couldn’t ride today. Hence, only Bloggy and the two youngin’s, Clayton and Kevin kitted up for fun in the sun. And oh what fun they had!
The bottom half of the course is a mixture of fine prehistoric beach sand and scrub weeds. The tire of choice today was the Challenge Fango. Larger volume and a decent side tread made them the perfect choice for today’s ride. Your tires stink. Ride Fangos.
First lap had Kevin in the dumps. Literally. He defecated behind a shrub. Drastic measures were taken.
Bring out the Rat Monkey and full face DH helmet.
Matt Tag: Is Kevin on the Rat Monkey?
Matt Tag: Idiot.
Behold. The wild, untamed, some say savage savannah of upper Red Bank. A desolate place fit for only the heartiest of creatures to thrive and multiply… like the Hawley lunchtime cross kids! Out of this wasteland, we’ve carved out the beginnings of a very rudimentary cx course. We’re still trying to iron out the backside of the course but yesterday’s “lukewarm laps” went well. Here’s the basic layout…
This looks like scrub and ragweed, but somewhere beneath it lies a practice course.
Josh in street clothes instead of his gender-sculpting skinsuit.
Clayton and Kevin discuss how lame it is to ride slick tires on sand. Well Clayton discusses it, Kevin sings it. “AHHHHHH. SAAAAAAAAND!”
Last spring was supposed to be “The Season of Clayton”; a block of time that would feature Hawley sales droid Clayton bullying his way through a robust road season, accumulating podiums and enemies alike. Sadly, this was not to be the case. Clayton refused to train and feigned ignorance when asked basic questions like “Are you racing? Where is your bike? When does your community service begin? Why did you buy a van with tinted windows? Why are you tickling me?” Etc, etc. So Bloggy turned his unflinching eye to cyclocross season and an in-from Joshie to don the laurels Clayton cast aside with nary a glance. Accumulating a handful of second places, it seemed like Josh was readying himself for a breakthrough. The breakthrough happened Saturday as the “quietest man in marketing” took his first victory of the season in a field of sixty (!) racists. Unapologetic racists. Bloggy wasn’t there but from Clayton and JT’s (inside sales) accounts, Josh raced perfectly, staying with the lead group then launching a blistering attack in the dreaded wooded section that assured him not only a victory, but enough daylight at the finish for a clichéd victory salute. Huzzah Josh and huzzah disc brakes! First Van Der Har at the UCI World Cup, now Josh! Transitively, Josh should be racing in the UCI World Cup. Now the endless parade of photos! Thanks to Clayton for the images. If you want copies of these, feel free to email him at Snatchemupvanafficiando@compuserv.net…
The old timers race was fun and competitive. They’re spry and lovable. So old.
A Globalbike racer. This is the only shot from the Pro1/2 race that wasn’t blurry…
This guy had a Justin Bristol fathead. Let’s see how well it worked.
The fathead, it did NOTHING!
A friendly fellow Clayton is friends with. I don’t know his name, so let’s call him Darrell.
Dominating the sand.
By the way, here’s the traditional ten gallon foam hat racer. He did well for wearing something that reduced his vision by 60 percent…
JT: You like this pose, with my hands on my hips? Feels cattier.
Josh: Uh, yeah. Definitely cattier.
That’s right folks, Josh was wearing his Northwave PODIUM shoes ON THE PODIUM! (Universe collapses on itself)…
The Trend Fluo podium sneaker (SH30944036) was seen in a local doctor’s office perfectly complimenting a pair of wool Rock Lobster socks…