I Am The Doofus, Worst Bike Rider Ever

The journal of Dr. D. Doofus, Esq., the crappiest Cat IV bike rider on the planet, the only coach you should ever have, the only cycling journalist worth reading, and the guy who looks really, really, really sexy with a bucket on his head.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006


go there, now.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006



had to send the doofus shoes back to rocket 7. they make good shit, no doubt about it...but the toe box was a little off, and it was makin doof's knee wiggle. so, just like last year, doof is knocked off his bike for a month due to shoe issues. fucking sucks.


training, if you can call it that, on a crappyfuji 'cross bike in some shoes that are a half size too large, but that sort of works cause when doof stuffs a cheap peterson orthotic in them they more or less work. that, and doof is going to the stupidass gym and huffing away on something called an efx, which is all but useless except it offers a superb view of fine chick ass when doof is lucky and some hairy dude when he isn't.


doof can't fucking breathe. allergies like mad. can't sleep. can't breathe. maybe his allergy doc will put him on a prednisone pack or maybe he'll just smack him in the head and tell him to fuck off.


yeah, this blog was absolutelyshitwitty wasn't it. you do better, asshole....

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

High Strung

The doof is a high strung cat. Trapeze-high. This is not a good thing.

Doof has a big race in three days, and the excuses are lined up -- his allergies pounded him last week. He's still having problems. He's self-aware of his own high-strung nature. He's self-aware that his self-awarenss just makes the allergy symptoms worse, and if he just chilled he'd probably feel a lot better. He's self-aware enough to know that his self-awareness that is making the allergy symptoms feel worse just gets worse when he begins thinking that this is a big race that physically, he's capable of winning. He's self-aware enough to know that the self-awareness of the self-awareness of the self-awareness gives him the foundation for fucking up saturday, and then writing a self-aware blog post. You get the idea.

Ok, sorry, doof knows you're spending your time reading this, and that you could be using your human energy to do something worthwhile with your life, and that perhaps you initally saw reading this blog as a worthwhile thing -- you were thinking, "that doofus, he's funny, and eccentric, and I'll just read his latest blog, that goofy, doofy, doofus."

Sorry, but you're getting shit on at this moment.


No shit.

Purgation, bro. Doof is just getting it out, in one good push, so he's all smiles on Saturday. Just like the 'ol punk song said: your face, my ass.

Sorry. But is has to happen, and this is better for both of us.

Read that big long paragraph over again -- I said read it, bitch. That's good. Now nod your head. You agree with all of it, don't you? Good. Now read it again. Feel that full, fat, fathomless, fecal flow of weekend athlete neurosis cover your little noggin like Grampa's patting hand....

Better now?

Of course you are.

Now, doof feels a lot better, himself, and will give a go at riding away from a bunch of fat old guys.

Don't forget to wipe....

Friday, March 17, 2006

Teenagers Suck

Youth isn't wasted on the young. They get every last fucking bit of it they desreve, the little bastards.

Doof just got through with six races, five of which were won by kids. 18, 17-year-old kids. Doof crashed out of one of those races, thanks to the questionable bike handling of a couple of 19-year old kids. Doof got punked by an 18-year old kid -- he was up alongside him before the last lap of a crit, and was going to jump to catch the break when the kid looked at him, and Doof realized this kid had just won two races, and that this kid would hop right on the tail end of the Doof like he will his prom date in a few weeks. So Doof just slid back down the line. The kid was probably thinking about his algebra homework, the car he's finally going to get, or the condom that's been in his wallet for the last fifteen months. But he punked the 39-year old Doofus. No kidding.

Let those hormonal little rockettwerps have their own damn races -- that's what they should do. Wait. Yeah. The Category is Senior Men 18+. Open to juniors. Kindergarden Kamikazes some of them may be...but yeah...its their race. So, well, fuck it.

Doof has another idea. How about banning teenagers from races, period. Teenage boys suck. They're arrogant. Naive. Testosterone-rich and tact-poor. Stupid. Lean. Fast. Don't let any teenage boy near a start line. Let 'em into a strip club, where it'll do 'em so real good. Just don't let them race bikes. Please.

We'll allow teenage girls, sure. Racing would be a hell of a lot more fun, interesting, and meaningful, if the USCF started giving away 19-year-old ladies as primes and placing prizes. Yeah, it would take 100 years of civil rights, 250 years of property law, 500 years of humanism, and 1000 years of basic dignity down the drain -- but fuck all that. Wouldn't you want to sprint for the freshman homecoming queen of Central Georgia College, the keys to a hotel room, and no questions asked?

Doof will race again in a few weeks -- against a bunch of guys his own age. Keep the pledge class warm for us....