Throughout my 20s, I had an intense and all-consuming relationship with that infamous British newsweekly which refers to itself as "this newspaper," an issue I've only recently come to terms with.
Bike baskets and racks are wonderful things that can truly transform your bike into a viable car alternative. Attaching them to your bike can sometimes be a pain, though.
Fat is in.
There's a new cat in the house and – counter to expectations – he's a boy-cat: Nébule. A small-town Quebec cat, he is quite the handful. He freaking loves the laser pointer; he does a good squeaky toy impression, and he wasted no time to introduce himself to the others.
Modern cycling is an empire built largely on the backs of doped-out athletes and affluent aging men. It's made up of warring fiefdoms, their fortunes always shifting, each with its own symbols, slang, and proprietary tools. And the bike show is a circus, where cycling's barons show off their swagger and their latest…
This Valentine's Day, make your favourite bike fiend a keyring charm that reflects their sophisticated cyclist sensibilities.
Unless your bike is total crap, chances are you've got a pair of Presta valves to deal with each time you pump the tires. All's good and well if you're carrying the right pump, of course. But what if you get caught without and have only a gas station air pump to resort to?
"Congratulations, buddy! You're going from living like a hipster to living like a hippie... Welcome to the family!" —future roommate, a self-described pirate hippie
Aren't bike flats the worst? Yes. Yes, they are. Because they always seem to come at the worst time. There you are, at a standstill by the roadside, sweating bullets as you picture squandering your chance with the girl—or job—of your dreams due to a basic inability to be punctual.
You know that feeling, when you walk into a grocery store with a set (and small) sum of money? A sum that's puny compared to the price-tag of certain basic items? A sum that puts paid to the notion of a healthy diet? That's where I was at on Friday evening, and I think I acquitted myself well.
The mercury may have been hovering below 0°F in Montreal's Mile End last night, but it didn't stop these guys and gals from piling into the Red Bird Galleries here for a vernissage—art opening, in the local parlance—and to drink all the PBR.
I'm all for young people doing "one-year challenge" things to discover and better themselves, but does this stunt http://asponsoredlife.com/ not seem a little, I dunno, contrived? What is the goal here, other than attention for attention's sake?
Montréal? La Belle Province? Anyone?
NASA better get working on this Outpost thing then. And the warp drive. And the alien virus cure.
Okay science, can you explain me why "coffee piss" smells so bad? Even drinking large amounts of water afterward seems not to mitigate this.