Chapeau! And the Eating of Same

Obviously the big story in cycling this past weekend was that Stanley Wiggins won the Tour de France:

(Congratulations Stan!)

The image of the headline above was forwarded to me by a reader, and while its tempting to attribute it to the systematic marginalization of cycling by the American media, the truth is that it's nothing quite so insidious.  No, all it really means is that the people at Yahoo are morons, which they confirmed when they also ran the following article that I stumbled upon this morning:

So what's number two on Yahoo's list of the best "hipster jobs?"  Why, it's becoming a paralegal, of course:

(Paralegal is the Stanley Wiggins of hipster careers.)

Presumably paralegal just edged out dental hygienist, which the crack editorial team at Yahoo must have decided wasn't quite trendy enough.

In any case, between Stanley Wiggins winning the Tour de France and his countryman Mike Cavendish taking the final stage on the Champs-Élysées, it's clear that Great Britain is now basking in a golden age of cycling.  In fact, there are those who have even speculated that the UK will now experience a cycling boom similar to the "Lance Amrstrong effect" we saw over here in Canada's noseless saddle during his seven-year winning streak.  (Though if they do I'd hate to spoil it for them but things go a little bit pear-shaped afterwards.)  At the very least, Wiggins has certainly proven the naysayers wrong, since before the Tour started stupid Internet pundits who know nothing about cycling were writing stuff like this:

The hopes of an entire nation rest on those sideburns, and it will be sad to watch those hopes slowly sink like a bunch of kittens adrift on a pond in a boat made from construction paper.  Of course, if he does win, I'll gladly travel to the UK and publicly eat my hat, but only because that's still vastly preferable to partaking in British cuisine.

Of course, that stupid Internet pundit was me.  Fortunately though I always wear underpants for a hat, and thus plan to exploit a loophole by wearing these:

Now all I need is for someone to send me a first-class ticket to Heathrow and I'll gladly make good on my promise, though I might have a hard time clearing customs with a pair of meat briefs on my head.

Needless to say, I was also wrong when I tipped Dmitriy Fofonov as the overall winner, though he did finish solidly in 63rd place:

And well ahead of his closest rival in the coveted surname-that-sounds-like-wanking competition:

Incidentally, the Tour de France organization may revise the leader's jersey for that competition, since the subtle wadded-up tissue graphic makes it difficult to distinguish from the maillot blanc for the best young rider.

And as for speculation that there is still some residual resentment between Wiggins and his teammate Chris Froome, this photo which was forwarded to me by a reader should put that to rest once and for all:

("Hey guys, get a (F)room(e).")

Speaking of gratuitous crotch references, way back in 2009 the clothing company Outlier sent me a pair of shorts, which I duly tested by going to the beach and pouring Snapple on them:

Well, after three years of occasional use (of the shorts, not my crotch) I emerged from the briny deep this past weekend only to find that a portal had developed dangerously close to my "pants yabbies:"

Shortly after noticing this I became aware of the sound of women laughing:

At first I worried that I might have inadvertently exposed myself to them (no, I was not wearing underpants, jerky or otherwise), but after examining the shorts closer I was satisfied that I had not and that the women were in fact just laughing at my general appearance.  By the way, as you may be aware, Outlier is a clothing company geared towards trendy urbanites who lead active lifesyles:

(The last sound this young man heard before falling to his death was a tearing sound from the crotch of his $175 shorts.)

Now, I don't consider myself a trendy urbanite.  Then again, let's not forget that according to Yahoo this guy is a hipster, so perhaps I should re-evaluate myself:

I also don't consider myself especially active.  I mean, sure, I ride a bike, but so does a Dutch grandmother.  Plus, if I'm riding with any sort of urgency I'm generally doing it while wearing special stretchy pants like any self-deluding Fred.  Otherwise I'm just sort of putzing around, as I was on the day that these shorts developed an unexpected peephole.   And yes, three years is a pretty long time, but I also didn't wear the shorts that often, so I'm not sure what this says about the cost-effectiveness of buying fancy shorts--though one reasonable conclusion would be that I should just bring them down the street to the dry cleaner, have the seam fixed for $5, and shut up about it already.

Also, in fairness to Outlier, the pants they sent me are still intact--though I have no idea how the pair I gave to my former intern, Spencer, are holding up, since after scoring a $200 pair of pants and a Walmart fixie he pretty much disappeared.

Anyway, undaunted by my brush with indecent exposure, I returned to the beach the next day with my family in tow and carried all our supplies including chairs and umbrellas by means of a Big Dummy:

We received many comments from bemused onlookers along the way, which annoyed me since we've never received any comments for hauling lots of crap to the beach in a car.  Then again, I've also never felt compelled to post a picture of a carload of crap on the Internet, whereas here I am simultaneously posting a picture of my bike just because it has some stuff strapped to it and then complaining that people noticed it.  Such is the paradoxical nature of smugness.

Also, my "pants yabbies" were showing the whole time, so that could have been the source of at least some of the pointing and laughing.

Speaking of pointing and laughing, another reader forwarded me the following image:

Evidently, it comes from a site called "TriathlonHumor.com," which seems superfluous since all triathlon is inherently humorous.  Consider this video:

I'm sure you'll agree that bike looks fast even standing still--as it will most of the time on the roof of your luxury automobile:

Sure you may suck, but at least all that wind tunnel testing translates directly to fuel cost savings, and you'll amortize the cost of the bike after only 17 years of driving to "training rides."

Of course, the real point of the video is to demonstrate yet another hydration system:

Judging from the sheer number of these drinking contraptions, it would appear that the drive to invent a hydration system that actually allows a triathlete to imbibe without crashing is as compelling as the quest for the perpetual motion machine--and it's no less quixotic.  As for this particular attempt, I'm still not sure how it works, though it seems to collect and save the riders' urine for future consumption:

Between the time saved drinking and the time saved relieving yourself, you're sure to reach your "personal best."

Lastly, when it comes to people who have trouble doing two things at once, Friday's quiz included this video of a cyclist receiving an unjustified ticket, and I'd be amazed if the officer in it could actually talk and scratch his "pants yabbies" at the same time:

A number of viewers have also commented on his resemblance to Sloth from the cinema classic "The Goonies:"

I'm not going to comment on that.  I'm simply going to "put it out there"--kind of like a pair of shorts with a hole in the crotch.