La Vida Wanker

La Vida Wanker

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Vignettes from Dairyland

Caution! These somewhat fictional sketches require a bit of imagination—each is an impression from Fairyland 2010 and no single scene provides enough context for understanding. Regardless of the many lies and unavoidable confusion, each provides the emotional reality that was Dairyland for Tim, Scott, Brad, and Weston.

Hunger Pains—Summerfest

Note: This post is best understood while listening to "The Reeling" by Passion Pit.

“I need to pee,” he cries. “I’m about to piss my pants.”

“Well, look around. Do you see any bathrooms?” he says sarcastically while tugging at his V neck.

“No,” begging now, “but you’ve got to find me one, Two Finger.”

As easy lyrics from Everythings Gonna Be Alright glide through the air, the four find a bathroom. Ten urinals line the wall and each row of drunken and bladder-bursting men agitates forward in step. As the cycling shirt nears his destination, he exits. Too many people, he thinks. To the stall!

But the stalls are occupied and will be for long. In one, two womenfolk disappear to the great chagrin of the crowd. Into the next, a wheelchair-bound man rolls.

So the cycling shirt returns to the rows, relieves himself and begins his walk out. Slowly, a warm and rank breeze rouses trash from the ground as he exits. Its source is baffling, but its heat grows near.

With the force and gravity of an astronomical event, the cycling shirt is smashed into the brick wall. Mounds of flesh collide and snap his neck back. In his ears, “Don’t worry about a thing/Cause every little thing gonna be all right” sounds. But against an open mouth and wart-ridden wandering hands, it rings hollow.

On U.S. Cellular stadium, The Reeling is played. Against the brick and her gelatinous form, he feels the madness inch by inch. He tries to run, but he cannot resist. So he prays, he sings, “Now I’m dreaming somebody/Would simply come and kidnap me, oh no, oh no.”

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Vignettes from Dairyland

Caution! These somewhat fictional sketches require a bit of imagination—each is an impression from Fairyland 2010 and no single scene provides enough context for understanding. Regardless of the many lies and unavoidable confusion, each provides the emotional reality that was Dairyland for Tim, Scott, Brad, and Weston.

The Tip of My Index Finger—Summerfest

“Do you know where U.S. Cellular stadium is?”

Quickly, her nearly legal blue eyes scan past his beer and black V neck to the face. The look of puzzlement breaks as she pins the accent.

“You’re from Australia?’

“Yep,” he says. His head has cocked, eyes flashing green, a mischievous smile breaking.

“I think it’s that way,” she says twisting her torso, pointing her slender arm.

“You should join us then,” he says as his arm hooks hers.

Her friends want to see the Wailers. But with a drink now in hand, a circle of jerks around her, and Passion Pit only a song away, the decision had been ordained.

In Memory of a Champion


Everyone who dreams of upgrading from the 3s has his own reasoning. Some aspire to avoid the two-headed Burnham and xXx hydra. Others upgrade to brag. And others yet upgrade to kickstart the long and tumultuous road to the professional ranks

My reasoning was a bit different. I wanted to be a 2 so I could race USCF with Will Nowak (Verizon u25 p/b ABD). Three denials later, I’m here. And now he’s gone.

Racing with a champion—a Will—is an experience. In racing and the storm that surounds competition, you realize people are unique. Each reacts in his own way. Some under pressure crack, others become diamonds.

Will never cracked. But he wouldn’t want to be called a diamond. Simply, he was a racer who cared about his team more than himself and raced with a ferocity and hunger that only the SpiderMonkey (Ben Damhoff) could rival.

But he has gone and left us—something I learned Sunday when I failed to be him.

Following a painful and informative Dairyland series, I ventured home with a partial Pro Wanker North hit squad to Peoria for the IL Crit Championships. With the high-speed racing in my legs and Chazz (IsCorp/Pro Wanker) on my wheel, I was confident that victory was possible.

So I entered the race with some hubris, but I had teammates and intended to play my cards well—test the field with an early break, cover some moves, try to get into the break and leadout Chazz if the field remained together.

That was the plan. The reality was rather different. Will would not have been proud.

When I would ask him—after each collegiate race—why he went with every move, was always on the front, and raced so darn dumb, he’d say, “I don’t ever want to miss the break.” I never understood his logic. Clearly, one can distinguish dangerous from non-threatening breaks!

Alas, I was wrong. When the move went in Peoria, I didn’t react. In fact, I didn’t know when or
how it went. All I remember is following Hogan Sills’ (Verizon u25 p/b ABD) wheel one moment
and the next not knowing where he was.

Yeah, we mopped up the primes and sorta won the bunch kick, but we lost the race. In my first race as a 2 on IL soil, I thought I’d do Will’s legacy well. I didn’t.

But there is a season to finish and a man in Connecticut to make proud. It’s time I get to it and show GH what’s what.


Monday, June 28, 2010

Genesis

Normally, blogs start something like this: “Hey... My name is Bob. And you probably should know that if you’re following this here blog. Really, I don’t know what to start with. So, I’ll just dive in! I’m forty and thin, incredibly successful, have a wife, a mistress, and volunteer at the fire department.”

Translation: I’m around 49-years-old, have never made it past Second Base, and am licking stale donut crumbs off my left pectoral “muscle” (Yep, they've been there for a while). I like a good wank, am addicted to Asian Internet porn and have a really cool hobby—creeping on the 12-year-old living in the trailer next to me.”

Well, my name is Scott and I won’t bother you with such blatant pretension... And you probably should know that if you’re following this blog post. Really though, I don’t know what to start with. So, I’ll just dive in! I’m 19 and of robust build, am incredibly independent (I attend university a whole 40 minutes from home) and know everything about pretty much everything.

So if you’re interesting in reading up on Chicagoland bike racing, the exploits of a Pro Wanker, and what it takes to earn a degree at NU... keep visiting.