CXMAS 2012 - The Jerk Store Called US For An Emergency Re-stocking Shipment

Greetings, Team Seagal Bandoleros! The winds of change are knocking at our door, much like the intestinal winds regularly knock at the inside of my backdoor. Whether that be in the form of a dramatic, planet-wide climate shift (witnessed by an increase in temperatures with each successive CXmas) or with a changing of the guard in position of the malevolent CXmas Overlord. This year marked a shift in power from PizzaTime McGee to the Great Puncher of Cocks, who has had his fist-sights set squarely on your cock/vag-n-balls.

Betwixt Punch0r and Lawman, a course was determined with many a challenge for our participants, who saw fit to loop around Bangert, The Eco-Trail farther north, then back for another Bangert loop before receiving their carefully wrapped CXmas gift:

Of course, all manner of beverages would be served along the way.

People arrived in the lot, where I had more than a few mind explosions. The first being The Good Doctor, whom I hadn't seen since 2009 in Durango. Still reeling from his 2008 appearance on the CXmas podium:

Just like in the Old West, the Doctor was also sometimes the Sheriff.

The next mind explosion was two-fold, in the form of the can-coozie and the spoke card:

One last mind explosion was in the form of a rare 2012 Mash0r sighting - previously only seen this year by chance on a trail in Colorado, and a couple of trail work days. Thankfully, he hasn't slipped off the edge of the Earth just yet.

Team Red Wheel arrived, sober, and came bearing a gift for us:

A bottle of Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout - the embodiment of "not fucking around."

There were more than a few ugly sweaters:

Jeff has had this sweater so long that he used to wear it non-ironically.

Also seen before the start:

Nico at the beginning of a 4+ hour nip blast-a-thon

64oz of pain-reliever.

It's not a costume of the clothing is in your regular rotation.

Here Anthony prepares to be shot from a cannon, but not before showing us proper use of a bento box:

Fuhrmann's tradition of using the tire casing as a psuedo-file tread.

Ms. Kitten Bottoms would go on to use the aero-advantages of her Xmas-helmet to great effect with her head down.

Many of us, myself included, were holding back a tear or two when The Great Gino stood atop that tailgate and gave a few emotion-filled words, making me wonder if this were the '95 Espy Awards.

But no, we were to get this endeavor started post-haste. A quick recognition of a veritable legend, central to TC Man, Big Friggin Loop, Coffee Stout and Chinese Scroll Translation lore within our team, the Good Doctor/Sheriff, once again:

He was actually directing his middle fingers, in this photo, to Avid hydraulic disc brakes - not the crowd.

And they were off.

Shirtless-Jerk-Jackson and I quickly zipped down to Bangert to greet them as they rolled into the trail:

"My name is Gino!"

Nog would be slogged, and shorelines would be ran-up, all in an effort to gain a better poker hand:

Our CXmas'ers were then to continue northward where our partner-team, the South City Cycling Club, would be waiting with delicious confectioneries provided by their Donut Shop Sponsor, Eddie's Southtown Donuts. Last year, you may remember (or may not, depending on how hazy that day is in your mind) the very creative employment of long johns and donut holes. This year, they went in a slightly different-yet-still-related direction, instead of delicious schlongs, they went for delicious "kittens." The "kitten" donuts were in all forms, sandy "kittens," bleeding "kittens," and even the less-desirable cheesy "kittens." Feats of strength would garner moar cards.

They were sent then, southward, back to Bangert for a slop-tastic lap, and then back to where myself, Shirtless Jerk-Jackson, PBR Dave would be lying in wait for gift-dispersement. It would be there that we would witness the CXmas miracle unfold before our eyes.

Once we had our "receiving line" of gifts ready to go, we waited for a short while as they first of our CXmas'ers would pass through.

Even though Masson Storm and company weren't able to be in attendance, we made sure to have a special gift ready anyway:

One good drawing deserves another:

While waiting for gifts to be received, we had one of the oddest appearances evar. Now, we in the cycling world are used to man-trains and (wo)man-trains, but this was the first dog-train we'd evar seen in person:

"Woof woof! Here comes the dog-train!"

Nico, ever the Team Seagal Goodwill Ambassador, provided them with proper hydration for their return trip:

Both Nico and I were hoping against hope that our laid-back friends friends from last year, the only cool recumbent riders we've ever met, would make an appearance, where we could send them on a journey once more, but this time they would be looking for a Punch0r. I was so excited and ready for this to happen, that I had Elton John's "The Circle of Life" already on loop in my head for several hours. Alas, they were never seen.

But what was seen was much ridiculousness, in the form of a helmet that was older than the Don Emilio tequila that I was offering to everyone. It won "Helmet of the Day":

Baby J was emulating Robert-Plant-On-Stage, showing the ladies what he was packin':

That was not before receiving his gift, which he promptly unwrapped, thinking there was actually something in it.

Here is Rock, receiving the best (in my opinion) gift, a 30lb block of plaster:

As I said, we also had tequila available for people to imbibe. This bottle had been passed on from a friend's Grandpa, is that tells your anything about it:

All of this CXmas cheer had me more excited and giddy than Criss Angel reading his new training manual:

It was in this manual that Mr. Angel learned that the "upside-down sword-swallower" is essentially the same maneuver as the "pile-driver."

The CXmas spirit really was in the air tonight.There was much to be done - greet the splattered CXmas'ers as they arrived at the finale:

Coochie coochie coo!

Once all had returned we gave our winners prizes, and consulted everyone's poker hands:

Dr. Roland Sallinger, Co-winner with Devin received an ENO Doublenest!

Devin, co-winner with Skeezer, won a badass pair of Polk Audio headphones!

Badass Junior Podium, cleaning up with Polk Audio schwag!

Matt Stacey, receiving some Polk Schwag after winning the swordfight. No surprise there...

Rounding out the Podium is former Champ BJ also scoring big!

I apologize to Cat, as my photo of her winning her prize turned out shitty, due only to my incompetence at operating a simple god-damned point-and-shoot. Nice fucking work though, especially after having drawn first blood!

A huge thanks goes out to those that supported this year's event: Irwin Tools, Polk Audio, ENO Hammocks, The Hub and of course PBR!

Afterwards it was just moar general confusion, which is no surprise. Lawman produced potentially the best beverage of the day, simply called "apple pie" - here being enjoyed by the esteemed Donjo:

We coudn't end the day though, without serenading Mary Piper with a traditional happy birthday song. You see, we here at Team Seagal HQ are very devoted to tradition.

In keeping with this spirit of tradition, I'd like to continue with our tradition of poking fun at triathletes. This is in a new form, which I call a "tri-ku." This is where you take the traditional and time-honored Japanese Haiku poem, and give it a triathlon theme:

Sweat encrusted pads
Urine soaked Profile saddle
I've set a PR


The Triathlon Song
It is my inspiration
Just a finisher

All bolts corroded
Powdered sports drink everywhere
Hate-filled mechanic

Rear-mounted bottle
Ejected at first pot-hole
Now dropped by group ride

It's all about speed
One velcro strap's all I need
Doubt I'll ever breed


Stay tuned for more in the future. Thanks for coming, jerks.

-Casey F. Ryback