Chopstork

There were two used tapes from the confessional booth Sunday morning. I thought that was weird since there were only two new tapes left out of a five-pack. Hmm… We watched the two tapes, and they each only had 2 minutes on them. Someone took one of the tapes. What a dick move!

Oh wait, nooow I remember—I switched the first tape, and I hid it. Don’t worry, I found it eventually. You’ll get to see the clips…some day. How many more things do I not remember from the party?

Ran down to the corner during the beer run, got tired, and lay down on the sidewalk to take a nap. Check. Thanks, Janelle for waking me up.

Started the feud with Eli—he said, “180 degrees … or pi radians,” in reference to flippy cups. So I punched him. Check. I could have sworn he started it with his head butting. In the end Red Strawberry beat me up as his proxy.

Break danced in the foyer. Check.

Wrastled Zach. Actually that one I did remember. I did it because Laura told me to. Then she told me to stop. Cuz she didn’t want him to get hurt.

And of course everyone remembers the biggest game of beer bump ever. Congratulations to Mr. Cross—the new Beer Bump Champion of the Universe.

Friends,

I got a very special email this Tuesday. Or rather, my namesake the senior manager in Bethesda, Maryland got it and eventually forwarded it to me. We had been cordially invited to a new event in the festivities of Peterman Going Away Week 2006. It was to be a farewell lunch, and invitees were to dress in Petermanesque attire. I knew right away that this was a big deal. There were going to be prizes, and I HAD TO WIN THEM. But, it wouldn’t be easy. There were going to be dozens of people in that Chipotle dressed like Peterman. Clever, creative people who have so much free time that they mod-out big-wheels and race them around the office. Just think of the competition I would be up against: business-casual Peterman, drunken Peterman, just-got-out-of-bed Peterman, and the biggest threat of all: just-got-out-of-bed-drunken-business-casual Peterman. So, I fretted until Wednesday came. I donned my best Polo shirt. I brushed off my threadbarest khaki’s. I forewent contacts for glasses. I combed my hair forward. I practiced lip-pouting. I may have prepared a speech. I knew I was close, but still, it wasn’t going to be enough. And that’s when I thought of an edge: I would carry a printout of Peterman’s MS Outlook calendar. The Peter-plan. Sheer. Utter. Brilliance.

I don’t want to brag, so let’s just say I smoked the competition.

Yours,
Steve Costansen

Ah, just like last year, I finished this thing wondering, “What the hell is going on? Where the hell is everyone? My phone’s broken.” Chaos. I know there were lots of farmers and farm animals with me and the barn when we got to the water (the ocean is a lot smaller than I thought). I also know that all of a sudden they were gone. Big Bird was trying to get into the black party bus, I went to see if I read the 36th Ave sign correctly, and then he was gone too. I tried to get on the bus, “Is there a tall corn in there? The corn’s our friend,” but they said no. Then I decided I had to find our cow in Speedway Meadows, while the Red Strawberry—and Laura on the phone before it shorted out in the rain—told me I should just go home. I put our broken barn in the cart, plus a basketball hoop, and started backtracking to the cow. Red Strawberry and her friend must have gotten sick of babysitting me, cuz at some point I ran across the street chasing something and when I turned around they were walking away.

I ended up in some field and ran into some SFSU girls that fed me drinks off a cart they’d pillaged. I think they were Annie, Trashley, Mai, and a redhead that had at least three red-head-related nicknames that I don’t remember…Miranda might have been one of them. She liked to call me Bunny Foo Foo and sing the song. We hung out and played kickball. It’s a shame I didn’t remember to run back across the street and get the basketball hoop I’d found. Some weird dude in long johns was there too. Never mind that I was dressed as a bunny rabbit. Eventually we walked across the park, through a deserted Polo Fields, and onto Lincoln where Trashley and Miranda were waiting in their car (when did they leave to get their car???), and they went home.

Finding myself alone in the Sunset, I figured I’d walk to Naan ‘n’ Curry (yummy) and hail a cab if one came. After no cabs came, it dawned on me that Paneer Tikka Masala is not worth walking 20 blocks in pink Uggs. Heading back into the park, I had a 10 minute conversation with a nice lady walking her dog so she could explain to me over and over how to get to Speedway Meadows. Which I did find, finally. But the cow was not there. Wet, cold, with sore feet and a broken phone, I finally gave up and hailed a cab on Fulton. And when the cabbie woke me up, I was home.

Turns out Big Bird was on the bus after all—they dropped him off at KFC and he brought chicken home for everyone. The first field, where I met the SF State girls, was either right next to Speedway Meadows or it was Speedway Meadows. And the cow cart had been left somewhere else in the park anyway. I love Bay to Breakers!

Oh yeah, here are my Bay to Breakers pictures, Courtney’s pictures, and Andy’s pictures.

Pictures from the Bird’s party supporting their support of the AFSP.

Hi everyone,

We wanted to thank you all for supporting Adrienne, Jeanette and I by coming to our party and/or donating to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention to support our overnight AWARENESS walk. One of the main reasons we are participating in this event is to raise awareness in our community about depression and suicide. Your donations will benefit the AFSP, to fund research, education, survivor and awareness programs - both to prevent suicide and to assist those affected by suicide. If you would like to take a larger role, it is not too late to sign up for the walk or to volunteer to support it. Check out http://www.theovernight.org/. Spread the word - tell your friends and family about it. There is another walk in Chicago in August too! From your generosity we raised nearly $1500 so thank you very much!

Best wishes,

Linden & Jeanette

A little photo essay chronicling the chronicles of Old Man racing down a big hill on a big wheel… (My full set of pictures here) (SF Chronicle story) (A little video from Geek Entertainment)

Some big wheels.

The Old Man gathers his thoughts in preparation for the big race. His Big Wheel waits in servitude behind him.

A fellow racer—sporting protective slippers—proves too heavy for his ride, crushing it well before the race would begin.

One of the Safety Third team tests his defenses.

With a cable car blocking tourist traffic, the racers come to the starting line.

Old Man, at the starting line for the first heat.

A pile-up in turn one proved catastrophic for veteran and crowd favorite foam-headed-guy-with-the-golden-bigwheel.

This little trike would see only one race in its lifetime.

Surviving racers line up for the second heat.

Foam-head guy cries in agony as an axle breaks on his second trike…

… but she was even slower, taking home the prize for the day’s slowest rider.

A helmet-cammed racer makes his way back up Lombard’s steps for the final heat. He would take home a second place prize—giant logo tighty whiteys—amid accusations of wheel doping.

Ghostbuster steals the lead coming out of a corner in the final official race of the day.

In the middle of the pack, Old Man rounds another corner.

Two riders take a fall only inches from the finish line.

I decide to ride the exhibition race and get giant prize crotch on my head.

I’m in second! But I got passed later. And I broke the seat off my big wheel. photo by Old Man

Clutch-burning cars line up on the west side of Lombard waiting to drive down the curvy section as Old Man prepares to ride down to our parked car … waaaay down there.

So besides the pictures, this post has little to do about this backpacking trip. Basically, I wanted to tryout the flickr blogging features. I have to say flickr pretty much rocks. You can checkout my flickr photos here or on flickr.

It’s been a couple months since anything has been added to the site. That’s because we had to update the site after getting mildly hacked, and it’s not all updated yet. Screw it, we switched to WordPress.

Anyway, a little update for now: Here are some new Urban Iditarod pictures. This year we went with a SF Fire Dept theme, with dalmatians of course, as Engine 51. I’ll have to put the movies up later.

• my pictures (on Flickr for now) If you log in to Flickr you can comment and add notes - pretty neat.
• some movies
• Eric’s pictures
• Julie’s pictures
• “Official” set by UI Staff photographer Joe Reifer
• Other teams’ pictures listed on the Laughing Squid

We survived the worst move of all time AND rallied ourselves out for the Halloween revelries. Note: those are NOT gay unicorns humping. One is a mare and one is a stalion. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Runner up: Old Man In a Trash Chute

In the background Mt. Fuji and in the foreground the all time best spaghetti and meatballs according to OldMan. From left to rigtht: Scott, AJ, Laura, and Old Man.

This shot comes from the first annual Smack Down Cage Match hosted by Linden and Jeanette and sponsored by Mark and Sandra. Although the pictures depict otherwise, this year’s championship title goes to Armen. On top with the wedgie: Jay. On bottom: Armen.