Over the weekend, I went to the St. Louis zoo with my niece and nephew. Here are the annual pictures of these two cuties:


This is Sage. Much too cute to be my relative. But the fact that she constantly runs away, does her own thing, and defies authority, lets me know that she is definitely a blood relative.


This is Zach. This is pretty much what I looked like when I was a baby, though I almost certainly sported a larger nose (and bigger muscles). All the better to breathe with. His thunder thighs are not yet muscular enough to carry him away from authority figures, but with enough formula and solid foods he will, hopefully, gain his independence.

I finally got my college diploma in the mail and I framed it up in the finest document frame Wal-Mart sells. Before I could get the official document positioned properly, the little stander-up thingy broke off of the back of the picture frame. I was going to hang it on the wall anyway. I was pleased to learn that I was "Magna Cum Laude." I thought that the mediocre grade I received in my final class had bumped me down a level, but I guess not. It was a pleasant surprise. I was also pleased to see a pair of bears on my diploma. They are tough and they do not fail to hunt down man when they have acquired a taste for human flesh (according to the movie, The Edge). Not everybody gets to have a human-destroying monster on his diploma.

Speaking of human-destroying monsters...

I watched the movie The Predator again for the second time in the past few months. I love this freaking movie. Arnold's band of mercenaries are bumped off, one by one, until the final showdown where Arnold kicks the motherfucker's ass. I love the part where the Predator says, "what the hell are you" in an Austrian accent to Arnold and proceeds to type a self-destruct code into his wrist computer. Then he laughs maniacally as Arnold runs away to save his own life from the impending nuclear blast.

My favorite scenes:

I love the scene where Jesse The Body gets blown away and the rag-tag crew of ex-soldiers empty their weapons into the forest in attempt to eradicate the alien species. I especially like the part where the hairless dude who compulsively shaves himself with dosposable razors picks up the one hundred pound helicopter gun and cuts down the forest in front of him in attempt to mow down the Predator.

Along those same lines, I love the scene where razor guy breaks the head of his razor off while mindlessly shaving himself in the middle of the jungle while he and his crew are attempting to kill an alien life form.

The reason I watched this movie again was after seeing Sonny Landham, playing Billy Bear, pull out his knife and get blown away by Eddie Murphy in the movie 48 hours. In Predator Billy dies for a good reason after throwing away his automatic machine gun and pulling out his knife...to save Arnold and the girl captured from the enemy compound.

Lastly but not leastly, I love the scene where Carl Weathers' arm gets blown off and the finger of his severed arm can be seen pulling the trigger of his machine gun while it lies on the ground. It's reminiscent of the scene where Arnold and Carl slap hands and have a muscle flex contest earlier in the movie. It leads me to hypothesize that, the moral of the Predator is, men are severely competitive to the point of self-destruction. The Predator himself goes so far as to kill people and take their skulls as trophies.

All of this speculation begs the question, is the Predator a male and does his species reproduce like ours. It's been a long time since I've seen Predator 2 and I haven't seen AVP yet. I'm going to have to study these movies before I can make an intelligent decision about the sexual orientation and capabilities of the Predator.

I've had a rough week. After the Webster Groves Criterium, I haven't touched a bike. Every chance I've had, I've slept instead. I promised my mom that I would visit her on no less than three occasions, but instead I've slept in.

I did nothing for the fourth of July weekend.

1/3 of my life equals work...1/3 equals drinking...and the last third is spent sleeping. But there's another 1/3 of it is spent watching movies. It totally throws off the equation. To be honest, it's a new and not totally unwelcome development in my life.

I have a stack of DVD's and I'm going to run through them for you.

"There Will Be Blood" is the most compelling movie I've seen in a long time. I love the fact that Daniel Day Lewis plays the roll with his native accent, though he supposedly hails from Fon Du Lac Wisconsin...or wherever the fuck. The bowling alley scene at the end of the movie is one of the most incredible scenes I've ever seen in a movie. Eli Sunday is forced to recite, "I am a false prophet. God is a superstition." During the closing credits I noticed that it was based on the novel "Oil" by Upton Sinclair. Suddenly, it became clear why the movie was a perfect vehicle for the tenets of socialism and atheism. If you've ever read "The Jungle" think hard about what Sinclair's point was. The man is a master manipulator.

Most recently, I watched "The Edge" with Alec Baldwin and Anthony Hopkins. I remember watching this movie, years ago, and being scared by the massive grisly bear. Now, it just looks like a joke. The most important and compelling thing about this movie is the relationship between Baldwin and Hopkins. I love the inscription on Baldwin's watch, "For all the nights." Baldwin gets all fucked up on a bottle of tequila at a wayward cabin but isn't able to dust off his adversary. Hopkins takes mercy on him and tries to save his life. The single-most thing that I love about this movie is the unwarranted compassion offered buy Sir Anthony Hopkins for the undeserving Baldwin.

I remember going to the theater to see "Breakdown" with my mom and her "man friend" back in the mid 90's. In this movie, Kurt Russell does everything possible to save his beautiful wife from death and rape from J.T. Walsh and his evil crew of bandits. Though Kurt has a brand new Jeep Grand Cherokee, it doesn't mean that he or his wife actually have any real money. I understand completely. New cars and displays of wealth are nothing but an illusion.

After several years of owning "Girl, Interrupted" on DVD I finally got around to watching it. I was surprised that I really liked the movie. Winona Rider was a compelling heroine. I related most to Angelina Jolie's character. I too am too honest to maintain the friendships that matter most in my life. When Jolie talks the valium-addicted girl into killing herself, it's the most compelling scene of the movie.

I finally watched another movie I have owned for many years, but I've never watched..."Donnie Brasco." Forgetaboutit! I love the scene where Johnny Depp's character tells Al Pacino that his diamond ring is, "Fugazi." Al and Michael Madsen stand by Johnny's character to the end even though we know he's a phony. I think the whole point of this movie is, we all have friends that are a bunch of liars and fakes, and maybe it's easier for us to treat them like family and not question their true intentions. Forgetaboutit.

In addition to the previously mentioned titles, I bought "48 Hours" for a few measly dollars. I was intrigued with how much the scrawny, undersized, over-compensating Eddie Murphy character was built up. The movie was sublimely fictitious. I loved it when the undersized Murphy, in his "five hundred dollar suit" fought with the more legitimate Nolte in his outdated Cadillac. I totally want to get a crucifix earring in my left ear, just like the main bad guy in the movie. Then, maybe I can lay around and watch outdated cartoons while my girlfriend struts around naked.

I can't even begin to tell you how long I've had "The Falcon and the Snowman" in my DVD collection. I love how Timothy Hutton is totally an alcoholic sucking down shots at every chance he can get, but somehow he is superior to his drug-addicted friend Sean Penn. Snorting cocaine is kosher, but huffing horse is indicative of being a total loser.

Finally, but not lastly, I viewed "2001: a Space Odyssey." The movie is forty years old but I loved it. "Open the Pod bay doors, Hal." Keir Dullea and his cuzzo attempt to conspire against Hal in their secret little pod, but Hal can read lips. Hal is lonely and he needs friends. Therefore, he feels compelled to kill the yellow astronaut. Who can blame him.

Beer of the day: Pabst Blue Ribbon Light. It used to be labeled, "Pabst Blue Ribbon, Light, Low Calorie Beer." My opinion? It's not the worst beer I've ever tasted. In comparison to a decent beer, it's every bit as satisfying as a Shop 'n Save cola. It's somewhat satisfying...in comparison to a crisp, refreshing can of Coca Cola. It gets the job done.

I raced Webster Groves on Sunday. It's the fifth time in six years that I've done the race. I remember watching Dan Bruns and his cuzzos drinking light beer there in 2004 and thinking, "God damn, I'm thirsty!" But no light beers were forced into my kung-fu grip at that point in time. This year, I allowed Greg of Team Seagal to force one beer into my hand, for which I am grateful. He also forced an inner tube into my wheel that would hold air. I appreciate his assistance and I had a pretty non-eventful race considering the fact that my bike is so old, it should not, technically, be capable of finishing a race.

I finally purchased the movie Aliens after a long and not very exhaustive search. Then, I went so far as to watch it and really enjoyed the acid-drenched bloodshed. Next, I viewed the movie Alien 3 and enjoyed that as well. I saw the movie at the theater when it came out in 1992, but it was interesting to experience it again. Sigourney Weever is never hotter than her appearance in the movie Alien. It makes me think that maybe youth and beauty are shackled together.

I have no scientific facts to back up my claim, but I believe that 28 is the perfect age. I defy anyone to disagree with me. For the majority of our lives, we are either younger or older than that age. Therefore, perfection is rarely (if ever) within our immediate grasp. Something to think about.

Beer of the day: Old Milwaukee Light. "America's best tasting beer." 2008 Gold Award winner for American-style light lager.

My opinion? It's a fairly beery tasting beer. People who don't like beer will definitely not like it...so it's pretty good...compared to other light beers. It at least kicks the ever-loving shit out of Natural Light.

Even more exciting, I finally tried "Pepsi Throwback." It was pretty good, but it was strange how much different sugar cane tastes than high fructose corn syrup. We never noticed the transition when it happened because they weened us off of sugar gradually. I remember when ingredients lists would read "sugar or high fructose corn syrup." Now they don't even pretend that there's any real sugar in soda-pop. It's just not there.

I raced for the first time in almost a year on Tuesday. I did fine, even though I got a flat tire and had to fix it during the race. I blamed it on six year old tubes, Ryan Pirtle heard six year old's pubes. The Pirtles are strange people. Despite the low level sexual harassment, I hung in the race fine and took a decent pull near the end. I never saw Dawson in the mix, though he was supposedly there, according to the results. I don't think he was really there.

After the race I enjoyed a snow cone from the ICCC. I was the only person waiting in the line to request a combination of pink lemonade and cherry. In my opinion, the two flavors are a perfect combination. In my opinion, I am a perfect combination of bitterness, love, and insight...not unlike a cherry-lemonade snow cone.

My stats for last week are pretty solid: I rode five times for 260 miles. It's been a long time since I've felt truly bad on a ride. It hasn't been as long since I've felt truly bad about the path my life has taken. I guess that's why I've been riding more lately.

During the past few weeks, I've begun to purchase and watch cheap DVD's. A few weeks ago I watched Death Wish and was impressed by Charles Bronson's performance. He wasn't totally wooden, like he is in so many other movies. He at least showed a little emotion and some proof that he could act like somebody other than Charles Bronson. Plus, Herbie Hancock produced the score.

In the middle of my 260 mile week, I watched Natural Born Killers and drank a bunch of light beer. I had never seen the movie before and was surprised that I really liked it. Oliver Stone doesn't make what is traditionally thought of as a quality movie, but what he produces is almost always different and thought-provoking. I loved the performances of Tommy Lee Jones, Tom Sizemore, Rodney Dangerfield, and Robert Downey jr. The "natural born" killers themselves were a little bit cliched and boring but the actors that surrounded them made the movie interesting and different.

I picked up Casino and Batman Begins for chump change during the current Father's Day sales. I'll report back on those movies later as they are very long and I don't feel like watching them right now. I bought my step dad A History of Violence and The Perfect Storm. I think he may already have the latter movie. If he does, I guess I'll be stuck watching George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg get killed by the sea on some lonely Sunday morning, which really isn't so bad.

On Tuesday I rode a hundred miles for the first time in almost a year. I rode my single speed road machine over to Illinois. Originally, it was only going to be another 80 mile ride but it turned into a little bit more after running into a few friends from the past.

I spotted Dawson leaving his job while I was eating a taquito at Quick Trip. As he was climbing into his 1985 Chevy Cavalier, he informed me that it was going to rain. I said, "nah, nah, nah, I can't hear you." I've got no time for negativity.

After getting back on my bike, I ran into former teammate, Justin, in his green kit. I joined him in my much handsomer blue kit. The STLCC is blue now. I'm one of the people who rammed the change through. What can I say? I was tired of wearing green. We rode together over to the Tuesday Night Tri ride. We ran into Dawson, riding his precious bicycle in the freshly falling rain and his buddy Mullen. At that point I had ridden about 60 miles and was 30 miles from home, so I decided to go for it. I completed the century by circling Tower Grove Park three times, with only a mildly numb left index finger to show for it. I rode the hundred miles in five and half hours. I had nothing better to do.

Naturally, Wednesday, should have been a rest day. I took my geared road bike out for a ride through some urban parks. First of all, I hit Carondolet and was feeling pretty good in the hot and humid conditions. From there I took an old route down to Jefferson Barracks and was surprised how good I was feeling after the long ride the day before. Leaving the park, I was averaging about 19 1/2 miles an hour, which is much faster than I usually ride. I decided to attempt to hold the pace as I rode up Broadway to Russell, then over to Tower Grove for a lap. I did it, and it wasn't easy.

It was unbelievable, how many times I had to stop and start on this route, but I held the pace. I guess my light beer diet is paying off. I haven't been training that much this year, but I'm not sure if I ever felt this good last year. It's somewhat encouraging. I'm thinking about buying a USCF license.