Really, this is just fantastic. Where does one go about renting a tank for such purposes?

Kinky Friedman welcoming Houston Mayor Bill White to the Democrats’ crowded gubernatorial primary race. Say what you want about Texas politics, but at least it’s interesting.

I’m going to defer to Cormac McCarthy to describe my first lap at the Mellow Classic this weekend. If you haven’t read The Road and don’t plan on seeing a grizzly Vigo Mortenson this week when the movie comes out, the brief synopsis is a boy and his father surviving in post apocalyptic America. In lap one this weekend, there was mud, cold, mud, bleakness, mud, and despair. There was no touching father son interactions (my dad was wisely at home grouting a bathtub) and I was not being chased by a horde of starving cannibals (although the NRC Pedal masher team makes a good substitute), but read the book, or really any of McCarthy’s work and you get the idea.

Lap two was more about me spacing out and trying to figure out a few things.

1. Exactly how bits of mud had made it into certain parts of my shorts that will remain unmentioned for fear of site censorship at various workplaces.

2. Exactly how many miles I was from the cooler or Fireman’s #4 that awaited me in the back of the Hotel Subaru.

3. The precise weight gained in mud and gravel that had affixed itself to my person, my bicycle and it’s tires.

4. How many more of the 12-and under group were going to pass me before I finished the fucking race, thereby further crushing my spirit.

5. Thinking on new adjectives to describe the state of my person, as simply muddy wasn’t really cutting it.

Upon finishing lap two, and the race, my chief accomplishments were grandly tallied up as not being last, not falling down, and making it back to the car to find the previously-mentioned-sextuplet-of-blessed-golden-elixir.

Riding at Lance’s house is fun though. You get to watch National Champions Race. You get a (peanut butter like mud aside) fantastic course, and of course great spectators. Mellow Johnny’s deserves credit for putting on a helluva an event, even with uncooperative weather.

Also of note – this race was not impossible for some, as Germ pulled second and from what I understand, was just edged out of first by a slippery rock.  And to the racers who donated their prize money back tot the LAF foundation – damn classy move.

Germ’s Pics | My pics

Save yourself some time - a handy index to Palin’s Going Rouge. Looks like ‘Snow Machine’ is mentioned on at least ten pages, which when you put it in the context of a political book, is fairly impressive.

The staying in the Senate till you know if you’re going to get the governor gig, I get. It’s a dick move (see what i did there?), but the job market’s tough, and I’m sure losing that sweet Senate health insurance would be a real bummer. What I don’t understand is why anyone in their right-mind would want Dick Cheney’s endorsement, short of trying to get a subcontractor gig on the building of the next Death Star.

I’ve known Kay for many, many years. Most recently we’ve worked together over the last eight years while I was vice president and she was of course the senator from Texas, and part of the Senate Republican leadership.

At least from a PR perspective, I would’ve thought that we would’ve recognized those last eight years of failed foreign policy, draconian economics, and general road to wrack and ruin as not the best thing to reference in an endorsement speech, but hey, maybe that’s why I’m not a Republican.

“There’s a certain amount of intelligence work involved in kidnapping that Facebook makes easier,” said Roberto Briceno Leon, director of the Venezuelan Observatory of Violence. “Before, what did kidnappers do? They could spend months checking accounts, studying a person’s daily movements in order to be able to plan the kidnapping. That implies an investment. Now, Facebook makes that easier.”

Honestly, it’s surprising this hasn’t been happening more. Internet narcissism has it’s price. Not that it’s really holding anybody back, myself included.

This lonely spot on the edge of a crater may be where Spirit ends its adventure on Mars. Sad, but what an awesome road trip for an interstellar golf cart.

James May from Top Gear rides with Ken Block in his 380hp Subaru Imprezza wagon for some rally practice. Kind of reminds me of my commute.