This guy, here, however, is the real deal. He’s kind of lazy, of course, or he’d be riding up the hill. He’s practicing for some sort of Afghani paper route or something. The flip during the jump over the canyon would no doubt be useful for evading incoming RPGs and assorted flak.
(Thanks to our western correspondent, Gerard at American Digest, for sending that one along. He’s looped on coffee, not Red Bull, like a real man should)
I mean, first you chug that cough elixir that doesn’t cure coughs, and then you ride a bike off a cliff. If you fall down, is that bad? If you slide down a moraine on your face instead of on your wheels, I figure there’s more entertainment value in it.
I’m all for the democratization of athletics, of course. We all cant have a big, flat lawn with stripes on it every five yards, and find twenty-one friends to knock heads on it every Sunday. Half your friends might, oh, I don’t know, ride their bikes off cliffs while looped on Red Bull on Saturday, and be unavailable to run the hook and ladder with you on Sunday. So the ability to turn a paper route that doesn’t deliver papers into a sport is good for the soul, I think. Especially when you do that Roadrunner/Coyote thing, hanging in midair for a few seconds before the scintillating gravel pizza finish. Love it.
(Thanks to Gerard at American Digest for sending that one along. He’s old fashioned. He doesn’t drink Red Bull. He drinks coffee, and, well, Old-Fashioneds)
I’m kidding. About the car. And the bicyclists. Honestly. I probably didn’t do that. No, really. No one saw me do it. You can’t prove I did it. I pretty much didn’t do it. Much. Or at all. I swear. I swear a lot, now that I think about it. But I didn’t do it. Often.
(thanks to Gerard at American Digest for sending that one along)
Does Red Bull have naked pictures of Warren Buffett and Carlos Slim at a donkey show or something? Can they possibly make enough money to fund these things by selling that cough syrup of theirs?