mk700c

There was no camera this weekend to caputure the toxic blend of padded lycra shorts and tube tops that is a cycling party.

Unfortunate as this may be, you can rest easy in the knowledge that only seven people were bored to death when the unsuspecting staff of the Grand Rapids Banana Republic store walked into a conversation about racing tactics and the proper time to attack on L'Alpe d'Huez this year.

They were stripped of their common, but stylish, clothes and fed to the daemon shitzu that lurked near the brownies and cheese dip (photo not availabe).
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update: I recently purchased a small, silver truck after driving nothing but German sports-compacts for my entire life. Today, truck buying rules were explained to me by a friend, I think she is a genius...
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that's way cool. dave wants a truck. i told him ok if he adheres to the truck buying rules
red truck = redneck
black truck = 30 something single guy who needs some poosay
white truck = yuppies who don't need a truck for anything other than their pier 1 bags
BIG truck = "i can keep my dead minori- i mean deer, in my truck"
itty bitty half suv truck= "I am a sucker"
smallish blue, green, or silver truck- " I am young and hip and sensible, and have enough important business to neccessitate a truck."