<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495</id><updated>2012-01-03T18:25:06.919-08:00</updated><category term='newb'/><title type='text'>insearchofthequietlife</title><subtitle type='html'>san francisco chronicles</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>116</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3489932609418748326</id><published>2011-12-16T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T16:18:32.168-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Genetics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S-wyS0EXP3M/TuvfxzGMiyI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bowidb9_AN8/s1600/navarro%2Bpoint.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S-wyS0EXP3M/TuvfxzGMiyI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bowidb9_AN8/s200/navarro%2Bpoint.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686885001108163362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "How's THIS one?" (showing camera phone self-portrait)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tara: "Uhhhhh, its ok, i guess.  Weird. . . I totally look like a hybrid between my Mom and my Dad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "WHADDYA KNOW?  YA THINK?!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3489932609418748326?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3489932609418748326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3489932609418748326' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3489932609418748326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3489932609418748326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/12/genetics.html' title='Genetics'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S-wyS0EXP3M/TuvfxzGMiyI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bowidb9_AN8/s72-c/navarro%2Bpoint.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3209183464115069703</id><published>2011-12-04T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T21:53:23.451-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"time crunch" = $5k</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://grammaschoice.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/pomegranate2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://grammaschoice.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/pomegranate2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I did 2 noteworthy things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Sold a $4800 carbon 29'er mountain bike to a guy on a "time crunch."  Meaning- he was supposed to go riding with a buddy in an hour, but didn't want to pull his janky old bike out of storage.  So he spent well over $5k on a bike, helmet, and pedals.  Baller.  That's the most expensive item I've ever sold to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I learned how to de-seed a pomegranate.  What did we do before YouTube?  I guess I called my mom for stuff like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3209183464115069703?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3209183464115069703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3209183464115069703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3209183464115069703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3209183464115069703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/12/time-crunch-5k.html' title='&quot;time crunch&quot; = $5k'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5020332947079148415</id><published>2011-11-10T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T21:55:31.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>its tough to be a tall girl in SF</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wmES2LSLWqU/TDD9lIJ4dOI/AAAAAAAAAnw/_oVR71b8JZs/s1600/tall-girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 337px; height: 378px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wmES2LSLWqU/TDD9lIJ4dOI/AAAAAAAAAnw/_oVR71b8JZs/s1600/tall-girl.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(overheard phone conversation, Russian Hill, SF)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude on cell phone: "yeah man, i went out with her a few times. . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       SHE'S JUST TOO FUCKING TALL!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5020332947079148415?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5020332947079148415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5020332947079148415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5020332947079148415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5020332947079148415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/11/its-tough-to-be-tall-girl-in-sf.html' title='its tough to be a tall girl in SF'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wmES2LSLWqU/TDD9lIJ4dOI/AAAAAAAAAnw/_oVR71b8JZs/s72-c/tall-girl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5957542471870468821</id><published>2011-10-18T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T01:30:26.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>smoking is not healthy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01589/Lorna-Gobey_1589754c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 460px; height: 288px;" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01589/Lorna-Gobey_1589754c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a new job.  Its 0.6 miles from my house, so I can walk there.  From the Tenderloin, aka "Lower Polk," as I hear they are now calling it. . . up to Russian Hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bummy: (approaching me from behind, as I wait at an intersection) "Hey mannnnn. . . .can I bum a cigaret. . . .(eye contact made) oh wait, you don't smoke, do ya?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "How did you know?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bummy: "You look HEALTHY."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Thanks, man."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5957542471870468821?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5957542471870468821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5957542471870468821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5957542471870468821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5957542471870468821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/10/smoking-is-not-healthy.html' title='smoking is not healthy'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3013535721850187929</id><published>2011-08-20T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T19:04:32.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a skateboard as a weapon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.thegtaplace.com/downloads/screens/gtasa/weapons/2747_screen01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.thegtaplace.com/downloads/screens/gtasa/weapons/2747_screen01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a sketchy 21-yr old dude stole my skateboard today while i was enjoying lunch at whizburger.  grab-n-run.  i chased, he dropped the board, i retrieved it and cornered him, as a DPT bike metermaid  called 911.  as i waited for the cops, i had the skateboard over my shoulder, ready to smack him across the forehead if he tried anything stupid.  he got arrested, but i'm probably not going to pursue it further, as i'd have to go to civil court to make the misdemeanor stick.  not worth it to me.  fucking bullshit system.  ruined my day. he fucked with the wrong dude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3013535721850187929?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3013535721850187929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3013535721850187929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3013535721850187929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3013535721850187929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/08/sketchy-21-yr-old-dude-stole-my.html' title='a skateboard as a weapon'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6984734896661102974</id><published>2011-08-10T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T00:23:37.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack of All Trades</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gurustump.com/media/images/jack_of_all_trades_1200.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height:  300px;" src="http://www.gurustump.com/media/images/jack_of_all_trades_1200.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was painting over some graffiti on the exterior of my building today, when a resident walked by and said, "You're a Jack of All Trades!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replied, "Its easy stuff."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That got me thinking. . .  I could also overhaul your bike blindfolded, AND you probably don't know that I also have a law degree.  FML&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6984734896661102974?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6984734896661102974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6984734896661102974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6984734896661102974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6984734896661102974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/08/jack-of-all-trades.html' title='Jack of All Trades'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-280814122109962562</id><published>2011-07-20T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T21:32:14.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>insearchofthebrodeal</title><content type='html'>"bro deal": a discount on something, based on knowing someone or belonging to something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "yeah, let me get that wheel, that tire, a tube, and and get it all set up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "you got it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(15 min later, after setup complete)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "ok, that will be $126.45."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "i. . . uh, know clancybikecoalitionusedtobe a messenger . . . . ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "wait, WHAT?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what happened, in 1 single breath:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) name drop&lt;br /&gt;2) claimed membership to a bike organization&lt;br /&gt;3) claimed membership to a cool kids club&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he repeated himself, slower this time.  i laughed.  he got 10% off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-280814122109962562?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/280814122109962562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=280814122109962562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/280814122109962562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/280814122109962562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/07/insearchofthebrodeal.html' title='insearchofthebrodeal'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5741040356948952693</id><published>2011-06-23T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T22:51:18.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fielding sales calls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.timesunion.com/capitol/files/2009/05/water-cooler.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 464px;" src="http://blog.timesunion.com/capitol/files/2009/05/water-cooler.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caller: "Hi.  May I speak to the person in charge of ordering for your office?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "We don't have an office.  We're a bike shop.  What have you got?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caller: "We specialize in water filtration systems and water coolers for your employees.  How many employees do you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "There are about 10 of us.  But we just drink water out of the tap. . . . is that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;bad&lt;/span&gt;??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caller: "Uh. . . well, YES, it can be."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "But we're in San Francisco!  I read on the internet that our water comes from that Hetch Hetchy place.  It tastes SO GOOD. . . .whats your water like?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caller:  "Uh. . . .we have the best quality bottled water and water coolers that suits your budgetary needs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh, but we don't have a budget for water.  We're a non-profit.  I guess its just tap water for us. . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caller: "O. . .K. . . thanks for your time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5741040356948952693?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5741040356948952693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5741040356948952693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5741040356948952693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5741040356948952693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/06/fielding-sales-calls.html' title='fielding sales calls'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3872832697249545165</id><published>2011-05-21T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T09:43:33.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JUDGEMENT DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRwv3TNgN1rNTaNuHjus5rxf0XshojkmA-sscNPQ6Z7-mgK1sC0Fw"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 184px; height: 274px;" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRwv3TNgN1rNTaNuHjus5rxf0XshojkmA-sscNPQ6Z7-mgK1sC0Fw" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today is the end of the world as we know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;geoffrey: "its judgement day tomorrow, what are you guys gonna DO?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i gotta work:(  but after i clock out, i'm down to smoke crack or something like that?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3872832697249545165?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3872832697249545165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3872832697249545165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3872832697249545165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3872832697249545165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/05/judgement-day.html' title='JUDGEMENT DAY'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4756072275700908005</id><published>2011-03-20T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T00:47:31.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quantification of Cycling Experience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://therecord.blogs.com/.a/6a00d8341c465d53ef0120a4fb0495970b-500wi"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://therecord.blogs.com/.a/6a00d8341c465d53ef0120a4fb0495970b-500wi" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  People naturally try to quantify everything.  Its a perfectly normal way of comparing data in numerical terms.  In cycling, it can be way of proving yourself to others when it comes to certain topics.  Here are a few examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) How many years you've done A, B, or C.&lt;br /&gt;2) How many charity rides you've participated in.&lt;br /&gt;3) How many miles you rode last year.&lt;br /&gt;4) How long you made a particular component/bike/part last.&lt;br /&gt;5) How long you've worked at X,Y, or Z.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Of the above scenarios, there are a few that bug the crap out of me, since they aren't really relevant to anything.  This one comes up fairly frequently from speaking to customers at the bike shop, so I'll begin my rant here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Contrary to popular belief, the number of charity rides a person has participated in, is not indicative that the person is a better cyclist, better bike mechanic, or even more knowledgeable about &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; (besides charity rides).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Please don't get the wrong idea here- I don't mean to knock the plethora of charity rides out there, nor the people who participate in them (plenty of my friends do), since they are meant for a good cause, and help people set a goal and achieve it, which I support fully.  I'm specifically talking about the chaps who aim to quantify their cycling experience by "number-dropping" how many of these events they've participated in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Standing alone, the fact that someone signed up for 1, 2, 5, or even 100 charity rides thus far in their lifetime and completed them, only signifies one thing. . . that they did 1, 2, or 100 rides of varying length.  Cool.  Sure, the distance and duration of the rides vary and there can be training requisites ranging from a little bit to pretty fucking hardcore.  And its noteworthy that all participants in these events must make a minimum monetary contribution, as well as raising a minimum monetary donation goal, through soliciting friends, family, and coworkers.  After all, this is where the money that (allegedly) goes to charity comes from.  (I can't find a source but I read once that only a disturbingly small percentage like 10% actually goes to the charities, since organizing, advertising, and running such big events is so costly, but this is a totally different topic.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  But as a whole, "number dropping" the number of events in which someone has participated does not lend to their credibility, nor knowledgeability of cycling or bicycle mechanics, since they are not really requisite to participating in these events.  All you have to do is show up and ride the bike.  Ride it.  You aren't race tuning your bike, drafting and using race team tactics, building wheels, or even learning anything about bicycles, bike maintenance, or racing at all.  Its not bike school, and its certainly not a race either.  Sure you may learn a lot from your experiences, and that's great.  But Its still not a legitimate quantification of cycling experience.  Charity rides are nothing more than that- a bike ride, raising money to benefit a charity.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  It also makes you sound like an idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4756072275700908005?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4756072275700908005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4756072275700908005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4756072275700908005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4756072275700908005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/03/quantification-of-cycling-experience.html' title='Quantification of Cycling Experience'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5759203716134728888</id><published>2011-02-01T13:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T13:41:58.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wheel Interchangeability</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ6f6wuESgh6UYKQxSsw_D0LtT0F6FbiA5e2mQWAP2HmP0JdOf5yQ"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ6f6wuESgh6UYKQxSsw_D0LtT0F6FbiA5e2mQWAP2HmP0JdOf5yQ" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusius: "Hi, I need to buy a tire and some gears."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Ok.  Road bike, Hybrid, or Mountain? How many speeds?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusius: "Road bike.  I'm not sure how many, my rear wheel was stolen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Ah, I see. Well the number of speeds on your shifter determines what cassette or freewheel you will need.  (foreseeing trouble) Wait a sec. . . . do you already have rear wheel?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusius: "No, but I have an extra front wheel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "You know you can't put a front wheel on the rear, right?  They aren't interchangeable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusius: "Why not?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Uh. . . totally different.  Different spacing, different hub shell, different axle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusius: "They look the same."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Actually they do not.  The rear hub is wider and has either threading or a spline to allow you to mount the cassette or freewheel.  Otherwise you'd have no way to bolt the gears on there(lamens terms)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusius: "Oh.  Ok, back to the drawing board."  (he leaves)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5759203716134728888?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5759203716134728888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5759203716134728888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5759203716134728888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5759203716134728888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/02/wheel-interchangeability.html' title='Wheel Interchangeability'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7406532879256751350</id><published>2011-01-21T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T09:56:22.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>advice for interns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQRNj0EqwCXTnEFkvfTRQhtqHXIiOnzAMxEb9Y1vBp9p2HoWO1HPA"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 181px;" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQRNj0EqwCXTnEFkvfTRQhtqHXIiOnzAMxEb9Y1vBp9p2HoWO1HPA" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intern: "Yuck, this burrito has AVOCADO in it?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "The only acceptable reason not to eat avocado, is if you allergic to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David: "Yeah man, you need to get over that real quick."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Eat it.  Just take a bite, if you hate it, you can spit it out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intern: "O. . . K. . . (eats a bite).  Ewwwwwwww. . . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Everyone loves avocados- meat eaters, vegans, vegitalians. .. . . "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7406532879256751350?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7406532879256751350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7406532879256751350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7406532879256751350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7406532879256751350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2011/01/advice-for-interns.html' title='advice for interns'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5823608311597674306</id><published>2010-12-13T00:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T00:29:04.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>brutal honesty</title><content type='html'>customer: "hi.  i need a bike." (after being on cell phone in the shop for a few minutes.  a big no no.  fortunately, i turned on the cell phone jamming device.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "ok." (looking at clock- its 12 minutes before closing time.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: "i know you guys are about to close.  what do you recommend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "i recommend not buying a bike in 12 minutes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5823608311597674306?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5823608311597674306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5823608311597674306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5823608311597674306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5823608311597674306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/12/brutal-honesty.html' title='brutal honesty'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2848222293131383186</id><published>2010-10-12T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T10:01:17.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skinheads</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.oi-skinhead.com/images/bleach50.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 413px; height: 585px;" src="http://www.oi-skinhead.com/images/bleach50.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(On the street, SoMa district of SF)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Whoa, look!  a skinhead!"  (You never see them around here- this guy was wearing red suspenders, 36-eye oxblood Docs laced up to his knees and Levi's rolled up all the way, sportin' chops, and a baseball cap!?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tara: "Nah man, thats prolly just a gay dude."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "Hmmm. . . (upon closer inspection) yeah, you're right.  Its kinda sad when your subculture gets co-opted by the gays."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2848222293131383186?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2848222293131383186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2848222293131383186' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2848222293131383186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2848222293131383186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/10/skinheads.html' title='Skinheads'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-993639551610794561</id><published>2010-10-05T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T13:18:09.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NO SLUGS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs010.snc4/33876_1503049048707_1008655918_31194032_2707325_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs010.snc4/33876_1503049048707_1008655918_31194032_2707325_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will and I woke up pre-dawn to head to Santa Cruz this morning for a surf.  We went to a pretty localized spot north of town.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;salty local: "NO SLUGS."&lt;br /&gt;me: "?"&lt;br /&gt;loc: "NO SLUGS!"&lt;br /&gt;me: "Huh?"&lt;br /&gt;loc: "That must have worked, you're not gonna say anything?"&lt;br /&gt;me: "I have no idea what you're talking about."&lt;br /&gt;loc: "UCSC students. You know, slugs." (UC Santa Cruz' mascot is the banana slug.)&lt;br /&gt;me: "Ohhhh!  I'm not a student. We just came down from San Francisco."&lt;br /&gt;loc: (total 180) "Sweet man! Hows the surf up north?"&lt;br /&gt;me: "Pretty big, but totally blown out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we were bros.  The guy was fucking crazy, I'm glad everything was cool.  In the water, he told me he hadn't been to SF in over 10 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"SO YOU LIVE DOWNTOWN?  MAANNNN, I JUST LIKE TA WALK AROUND AND LOOK AT ALL DA BUILDINGSSSS. . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs621.snc4/58128_1503042888553_1008655918_31194023_7749064_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs621.snc4/58128_1503042888553_1008655918_31194023_7749064_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs743.snc4/64366_1503040968505_1008655918_31194020_6610138_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs743.snc4/64366_1503040968505_1008655918_31194020_6610138_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs365.ash2/64382_1503046088633_1008655918_31194027_7761518_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs365.ash2/64382_1503046088633_1008655918_31194027_7761518_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke my leash on my first wave.  On my long swim in, Will saved my board from the rocky shoreline.  After a couple unsuccessful attempts to re-tie the leash to the strap, the knot that worked best (albeit temporarily): a noose!  I give full credit to my dad for teaching me how to tie a noose, back when I was a teenager in Texas.  For fishing hooks! FISHING HOOKS!  WTF were you&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; thinking, you racists?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-993639551610794561?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/993639551610794561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=993639551610794561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/993639551610794561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/993639551610794561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/10/no-slugs.html' title='NO SLUGS.'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-504644886802483986</id><published>2010-08-27T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T10:47:22.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burning Man and Bikes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRBdGv46ipXfmHkx7BBnEu83Rq5a7rDnUHBpTTLwnGOt3MCCcc&amp;t=1&amp;usg=__PmitccUUqvt4TlCOqK-XVjYBPXA="&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRBdGv46ipXfmHkx7BBnEu83Rq5a7rDnUHBpTTLwnGOt3MCCcc&amp;t=1&amp;usg=__PmitccUUqvt4TlCOqK-XVjYBPXA=" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time of year, ecclectics from all over the world come to San Francisco with hopes and dreams of acquiring a bicycle for $100 or less and decorating it lavishly for the Burning Man Festival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know what Burning Man is, read &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burning_Man"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once said bicycles are acquired, you can expect the frames and wheels to become decorated brightly with colorful tapes, fabrics, streamers, plaster, and even encrusted in shiny jewels and mirrors.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think "scraper bikes," but for white people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a pure outsider to the event, (I've never attended, nor will i ever.  But working at a bicycle shop, its inevitable I'm tangentially related to the procurement process of said festival for out-of-towners.) I've noticed a change in the demographic in the 3 years I've lived in The City.  (I capitalized &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"The City"&lt;/span&gt; because it shows my acquired San Fran-centric perspective. . . that happens when you live here for a few years.  Oh look, now its capitalized AND in quotations.  Cool!)  OK, Sorry for the digression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burning Man has become an even larger scale attraction in its worldwide grasp.  Just yesterday, we had "to-be Burners" floating in from such distant lands as Australia, England, Canada, etc.  They were all dressed very differently, spoke differently and had different visions of their ideal Burning Man bike-to-be, but all had one thing in common. . . CREDIT CARDS.  They had money to spend and were willing to buy buy buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, despite the cost of flying across the world, lodging, food, a $300 admission fee for said festival, and the cost of decorating a bike for the cause, nobody wants to spend a large amount of money on the bikes for a good reason: they get ruined in the desert.  The salinity of the sand and dust in "the playa" (playa means beach is Spanish, so I have no fucking idea why people call the desert flats a "playa") causes bicycle parts to rust FAST.  One would never want to bring their daily rider bicycle to Burning Man because it causes all the moving parts to gunk up and fast forwards their life span to an unservicable state within a month or so.  While it is possible to take a nice bike there, return home, and overhaul every single moving part of the bicycle and return it to a functional state- this is rarely done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?  Decompression parties.  That means at least a month of after-parties to get you off of "Burning-Man Time."  Who has time to overhaul their bikes when all these sweet decompression parties are going on in SF, Bro?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, it makes no sense to bring a nice bike out there, since it would get ruined.  Ideally, one acquires a barely functional bike at a garage sale or on craigslist for dirt cheap, and as PT says "just make at least one gear and one brake work and its good to go." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last minute procrastinators can peruse every bike shop in the city and find nothing.  Bike shops sell bikes that work.  It costs time and money to make a used bike functional, and bike prices are inflated here.  Its pretty rare to find a $100 bike in San Francisco, ESPECIALLY at a bike shop.  And if/when that exists, its scooped up immediately.  There aren't enough deals like that to supply every eccentric person's Burning Man needs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is an interesting, yet slightly peeving, snippet of a conversation I had with some neo-hippy Australian Burners yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman Burner: "I bet you can guess what we are here looking for."  (That was cool, because she was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt; about why a group of 4 oddly dressed eccentrics &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;floated&lt;/span&gt; into our shop)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Haha.  I'm sorry, we did have some cheap bikes, but they are all gone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: "WHERE IS THE NEAREST WAL-MART?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "There isn't one in The City.  Nearest one is at least 15 miles South of The City." (there i go again, ha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: "Hmm, bummer.  Actually, thats kind of awesome."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "EXACTLY.  SF is a pretty cool place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was right.  The conversation itself wasn't peeving, since the woman was pretty cool.  But the idea that such a free-spirited person would travel transcontinentally, buy a product which supports the most evil of evil corporate stores, to attend a festival created to foster free thinking and non-commercialism. . . is just a sham.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-504644886802483986?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/504644886802483986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=504644886802483986' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/504644886802483986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/504644886802483986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/08/burning-man-and-bikes.html' title='Burning Man and Bikes'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4201137783551924180</id><published>2010-08-27T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T10:00:23.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how to cope with time in jail</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTUjoIsBTJqg9hqhL3Nwd3cDBA4IBCl0TBpFEckOP2U0EluMyo&amp;t=1&amp;usg=__9WpGqMIEq8E0ZIyxs_awtmzMcHM="&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 192px;" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTUjoIsBTJqg9hqhL3Nwd3cDBA4IBCl0TBpFEckOP2U0EluMyo&amp;t=1&amp;usg=__9WpGqMIEq8E0ZIyxs_awtmzMcHM=" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just tried to sleep as much as possible.  Think about it.  I you sleep 12-13 hours a day, thats that many less hours you have to deal with bullshit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- As told to me by an intern, who just served a 6 month felony conviction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4201137783551924180?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4201137783551924180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4201137783551924180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4201137783551924180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4201137783551924180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/08/how-to-cope-with-time-in-jail.html' title='how to cope with time in jail'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5784158380473679338</id><published>2010-08-26T22:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T22:17:18.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>relationship advice for single guys in SF</title><content type='html'>"When a girl tells you she isn't looking for a relationship. . . . that usually means she isn't looking for a relationship. . . &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;with YOU&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- J. Roark, as told to me by M. Roark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5784158380473679338?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5784158380473679338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5784158380473679338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5784158380473679338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5784158380473679338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/08/relationship-advice-for-single-guys.html' title='relationship advice for single guys in SF'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-8559131624928453806</id><published>2010-07-22T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T22:13:50.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"yes, but are you a CYCLIST?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRd2GcYE1GAvHPF-v0F0IvNIOyk-ysu7OV0OISuDVwMA-YTvjw&amp;t=1&amp;usg=__0D8LK5zPQUMZkybjjrBRdr0VQyc="&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRd2GcYE1GAvHPF-v0F0IvNIOyk-ysu7OV0OISuDVwMA-YTvjw&amp;t=1&amp;usg=__0D8LK5zPQUMZkybjjrBRdr0VQyc=" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An interesting couple came in to shop for bikes the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: "Do you know where we could try to find these Fuji bikes on the Peninsula?  Because thats where we live, and we want to test ride them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "You are welcome to ride them, just leave me your ID."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: "We don't like riding in the city.  Its dangerous.  we almost got hit the other day riding around here!  Some people just have no respect for others on a bike!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I understand completely.  I'm sure you could look at the manufacturer's website and find a retailer local to you.  If you ride on Shotwell Street around the corner, it has much less traffic than this intersection here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of them: "Well. . . ok."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(They test rode some Fuji hybrids.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both: "That was GREAT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Awesome, glad you enjoyed it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: "Do you think I could sustain 30 mph on this bike?  Just riding around and stuff?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Definitely. . . &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;if you're going downhill&lt;/span&gt;.  30 mph is pretty fast to sustain on flat ground."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: "Yes, but ARE YOU A CYCLIST?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "uh, yeah. . . &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;i do work at a bike shop&lt;/span&gt;.  So YES, i am a cyclist."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man:  "I mean, a man can run faster than a car thats going 30 miles per hour.  On a bike, you should be able to go much faster." (He was pretty serious and set on this factoid.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I don't think Lance Armstrong even sustains 30mph in the Tour de France."  (fact that i just googled: Lance averaged 33.5 mph in the prolog stage of last year's TdF.)  "Either way: NO, you probably won't be averaging 30 mph on this hybrid bicycle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that some bike shops may employ "salespersons" who may or may not actually be a "cyclist."  However, I find it highly improbable that a knowledgeable person who sells bicycle products or works as a mechanic at a bike shop doesn't have at least some first hand knowledge of the products and/or bicycles and bicycling in general. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, you can be taught most things and can even learn a lot from the internet, but c'mon. . . you wouldn't walk into an auto shop and ask a car mechanic if he drives cars, right??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-8559131624928453806?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8559131624928453806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=8559131624928453806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8559131624928453806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8559131624928453806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/07/yes-but-are-you-cyclist.html' title='&quot;yes, but are you a CYCLIST?&quot;'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6736104257883779615</id><published>2010-07-11T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T09:55:43.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>repainting classic vintage bicycles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/110/273277447_20414748a9_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/110/273277447_20414748a9_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "geoffrey, you need some bob jackson decals for your bob jackson. it just looks like a yellow bike right now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;geoffrey: "if i were going that route, i'd prefer to get a proper bob jackson fork, then get the whole thing repainted and re-decalled."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "do you like that its yellow?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;geoffrey: "uh, i made it work.  i think it would look cool if i repainted it flat black."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;clancy: "FLAT BLACK?!!  WTF, what are you, a bike messenger or something?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6736104257883779615?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6736104257883779615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6736104257883779615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6736104257883779615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6736104257883779615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/07/repainting-classic-vintage-bicycles.html' title='repainting classic vintage bicycles'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/110/273277447_20414748a9_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7299426980312444700</id><published>2010-06-29T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T21:35:06.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mountain biking dude talk</title><content type='html'>geoffrey: "she seems like a nice person. . . . &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;to be good friends with&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "ok now i know you're gay."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7299426980312444700?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7299426980312444700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7299426980312444700' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7299426980312444700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7299426980312444700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/06/mountain-biking-dude-talk.html' title='mountain biking dude talk'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6535629916446140631</id><published>2010-05-06T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T21:42:59.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome to the tenderloin!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ALPdKDEkYRA/SV361CXd1XI/AAAAAAAAAKo/oxFB41yUK6E/s200/bum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 140px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ALPdKDEkYRA/SV361CXd1XI/AAAAAAAAAKo/oxFB41yUK6E/s200/bum.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;worst possible apartment showing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;before showing a vacant 2-bedroom apartment to two prospective tenants today, i had to kick a drunk and beligerent homeless dude off the doorstep.  there is only 1 step at the bottom of the gate, so the gate hits anyone sitting on the step when it opens.  not a good place to sit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the apartment hunters were patiently waiting a little ways from the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (to bum, as i opened the gate): "look, every time i see you here, i HAVE to ask you to leave.  please LEAVE NOW.  get lost."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bum: "nah, don't worry- its cool." (implying that its ok for us to hit him with the gate and step over him to get into the building.  its not cool.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "dude.  LEAVE."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;woman bum standing with him: "i'm not a dude!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "i know.  i wasn't talking to you, since you aren't blocking the doorway.  HE needs to go."  (she understood, apologized and tried to get him up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bum: "YOU CA'T FUCKCING TEL MEE WHAT TO DO!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "i tell you what to do &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt; day.  i'll tell you again tomorrow.  see ya!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;prospective tenants: "well, what a great way to start the tour!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "welcome to the tenderloin!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6535629916446140631?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6535629916446140631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6535629916446140631' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6535629916446140631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6535629916446140631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/05/welcome-to-tenderloin.html' title='welcome to the tenderloin!'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ALPdKDEkYRA/SV361CXd1XI/AAAAAAAAAKo/oxFB41yUK6E/s72-c/bum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3450400113795141687</id><published>2010-04-09T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T19:28:19.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>heroin and its consequences</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.acsa2000.net/a30100heroin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 700px; height: 471px;" src="http://www.acsa2000.net/a30100heroin.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a story told, via facebook status updates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenneth Ho- spent a lovely day cruising the coast, petting starfish at the monterrey bay aquarium, followed by a cliffside picnic overlooking the rugged northern california coast. then i came back to my apartment in SF and kicked a heroin user out of my basement, who had shitpissvomited everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenneth Ho- the guy was in his mid-20's, and didn't look homeless. he was wearing a north face jacket, air jordans, etc. he was def on heroin (i saw the needle and tin he cooked it in), but hadn't fucked his whole life up yet. . . so not a "junkie." i reserve "crackhead" for crack users more specifically. also, "tweaker" for your average crazy homeless ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-to clarify, an alternate explanation for what happened, offered by an my friend mike-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Roark-  I stopped by your place the other day to show&lt;br /&gt;you my fresh new kicks and jacket. You weren't home when I got there so I&lt;br /&gt;followed somebody in to wait for you. Anyhow, my blood sugar must have&lt;br /&gt;dropped because I fell asleep in the middle of administering an insulin&lt;br /&gt;shot. It was the wierdest thing; when I came to, I was on Geary St.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3450400113795141687?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3450400113795141687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3450400113795141687' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3450400113795141687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3450400113795141687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/04/heroin-and-its-consequences.html' title='heroin and its consequences'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1083607739527042480</id><published>2010-03-14T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T10:15:59.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ensuring the safety of others</title><content type='html'>ken: "hey, i'll walk you to the muni station."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kate: "its ok, you don't have to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "nah, the TL is sketchy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kate: "well, i &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; been grabbed before. . .  by drunk dudes that wanted to touch my hair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "well, there you go.  my point exactly."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1083607739527042480?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1083607739527042480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1083607739527042480' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1083607739527042480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1083607739527042480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/ensuring-safety-of-others.html' title='ensuring the safety of others'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3202329537959082401</id><published>2010-02-20T09:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T09:33:50.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cute girls say cute things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;the other day-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "oh, you mean the lindsay i met yesterday.  whats her last name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tara: "i forget. . . she's polish, so there's a lot of "I's" and "K's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ashley: "soooo ken, i heard you have a new gf?!  ANDDDD i heard she's british. and REALLYYY cool!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "yes, yes, and yes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3202329537959082401?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3202329537959082401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3202329537959082401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3202329537959082401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3202329537959082401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/02/cute-girls-say-cute-things.html' title='cute girls say cute things'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6784721634492313445</id><published>2010-01-14T09:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T09:43:36.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>telling the ex gf about the new gf</title><content type='html'>clare: "does she ride a fixed gear?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "no."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6784721634492313445?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6784721634492313445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6784721634492313445' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6784721634492313445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6784721634492313445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/01/telling-ex-gf-about-new-gf.html' title='telling the ex gf about the new gf'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7921404151249523198</id><published>2010-01-11T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T16:56:45.637-08:00</updated><title type='text'>being "PC" in the workplace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.creepygif.com/images/full/10.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 134px;" src="http://www.creepygif.com/images/full/10.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the funnest thing about "political correctness" is mocking how sensitive some people can be about it.  its 2010 for fuck's sake.  lighten up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "damn, its so hard to read the date on uri's new calendar from here.  the numbers are too small."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;geoffrey: "maybe its because your eyes are too. . . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "THATS RACIST!!!"  (dun dun dun)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;geoffrey: ". . . too far away!  TOO FAR AWAY!  NOT TOO SMALL, just TOO FAR AWAY!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i'm gonna fill out a formal complaint to the management on this one.  hope you like sensitivity training, buddy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7921404151249523198?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7921404151249523198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7921404151249523198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7921404151249523198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7921404151249523198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/01/being-pc-in-workplace.html' title='being &quot;PC&quot; in the workplace'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3954394034299872439</id><published>2010-01-03T02:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T02:17:56.925-08:00</updated><title type='text'>optimism and my mom</title><content type='html'>ken: "i met this really cool girl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom: "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;why&lt;/span&gt; does she like you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "geez, mom!  is it really that inconceivable that someone might like me?!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3954394034299872439?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3954394034299872439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3954394034299872439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3954394034299872439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3954394034299872439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2010/01/optimism-and-my-mom.html' title='optimism and my mom'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2592013242400299751</id><published>2009-11-14T02:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T02:27:26.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hot mess</title><content type='html'>some girls are just a hot mess.  caveat emptor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2592013242400299751?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2592013242400299751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2592013242400299751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2592013242400299751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2592013242400299751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/11/hot-mess.html' title='hot mess'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3305724369682985004</id><published>2009-11-10T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T18:42:32.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>showing vacancies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/Svoj8HmjJlI/AAAAAAAAACY/owWpWv8ZMvw/s1600-h/IMG_7905.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/Svoj8HmjJlI/AAAAAAAAACY/owWpWv8ZMvw/s200/IMG_7905.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402670218724189778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a super SoCal girl checked out a studio today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl: "whats that, its so in the waaayyy.  can it be moved?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "thats a radiator.  no, it cannot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl: "so there's no garbage disposal?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "nope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl: "are there, like, doors for the pantry?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "this one has a door. . .see?  this one does not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl: "whoa, look at that sink!  ewwww!" (split section sink)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "ya know, i showed this unit to a friend, and he was stoked because it was 'vintage,' or 'era correct.' you're not going to find all the modern amenities in an old-ass building in the tenderloin."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3305724369682985004?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3305724369682985004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3305724369682985004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3305724369682985004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3305724369682985004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/11/showing-vacancies.html' title='showing vacancies'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/Svoj8HmjJlI/AAAAAAAAACY/owWpWv8ZMvw/s72-c/IMG_7905.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7552703786839270600</id><published>2009-11-08T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T09:56:32.052-08:00</updated><title type='text'>conversation with a "playboy"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://supreme.ph/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/012_5012playboy-bunny-posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 450px;" src="http://supreme.ph/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/012_5012playboy-bunny-posters.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;near closing time, edinburgh castle pub, saturday night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pb: "so how long have you lived in this city?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "oh, just over 2 years."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pb: "i've been in this neighborhood for 5 years, and lived in the city for over 10 years!  i'm approaching 30 now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "i'm 30."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pb: "know whats the best thing about SF??  theres always new hot bitches coming in!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "uhh. . .yea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pb: "i dunno bout you, but i'm sort of a playboy.  gotta run, see you around!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't know people actually referred to themselves as "playboys."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7552703786839270600?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7552703786839270600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7552703786839270600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7552703786839270600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7552703786839270600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/11/conversation-with-playboy.html' title='conversation with a &quot;playboy&quot;'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2368210748222838057</id><published>2009-11-07T08:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T08:44:23.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sneaky sex and its consequences</title><content type='html'>via text, saturday morning 11/7/09, 6:35am PST. (9:35am ET where melissa lives)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;melissa: "i'm hiding naked under the covers at my boyfriends house.  i just came.  i'm still drunk from last night.  his parents just came. . .over.  they don't know i'm here.  my clothes are outside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "haha!" "youre fucked.  that happened to me once, but tiffany's brother caught us (i was about 17 at the time)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;melissa: "ha!  i remember you told me that story before.  they're talking fucking interior design for christsake!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "pretend you got raped.  then just walk out and blame it on the roofies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;melissa: "you're so insensitive."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2368210748222838057?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2368210748222838057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2368210748222838057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2368210748222838057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2368210748222838057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/11/via-text-saturday-morning-11709-635am.html' title='sneaky sex and its consequences'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-505317289811429658</id><published>2009-11-05T12:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T12:47:27.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>lisps</title><content type='html'>i've met more people with lisps in SF than everywhere else i've ever lived, combined.  not sure why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-505317289811429658?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/505317289811429658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=505317289811429658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/505317289811429658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/505317289811429658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/11/lisps.html' title='lisps'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5144622594277837869</id><published>2009-11-01T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T22:00:40.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'>halloween</title><content type='html'>this was a really fun weekend.  critical mass, monster mash alleycat checkpoint, and hella halloween parties.  2 days of cat ladying in the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs022.snc3/10969_199559593974_587788974_3953997_7007430_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs022.snc3/10969_199559593974_587788974_3953997_7007430_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the day after halloween, 11/1/09.  via text:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "Gonna chill in DP later with mira and friends.  wanna go? prob 3ish or later."  &lt;br /&gt;jared: "i can't move."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5144622594277837869?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5144622594277837869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5144622594277837869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5144622594277837869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5144622594277837869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='halloween'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-744937739203905353</id><published>2009-10-28T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T09:42:02.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rule #1: never talk about ex gf's on a date</title><content type='html'>"whatcha doin for halloween?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"my &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;friend&lt;/span&gt; clare is having a zombie themed halloween party, you should come!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"have i met this friend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"no, i don't think so."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"are you sure?  i think i met her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i dunno.  she's actually my ex girlfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"what?!  hmmmm. i thought your ex lived in another state or something. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"no. . . .thats my &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;other&lt;/span&gt; ex, melissa . . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FML x 2&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-744937739203905353?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/744937739203905353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=744937739203905353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/744937739203905353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/744937739203905353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/10/rule-1-never-talk-about-ex-gfs-on-date.html' title='rule #1: never talk about ex gf&apos;s on a date'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-765266438319813293</id><published>2009-10-26T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T17:08:36.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tenderloin life</title><content type='html'>my life has changed a bit since i've moved to the tenderloin from hayes valley.  although only 1 mile apart in downtown SF, they are worlds apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. rent is $200-300 cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;2. less douchebags, more junkies, hookers, trannys.&lt;br /&gt;3. heightened awareness of urine and feces on the sidewalk.&lt;br /&gt;4. decreased sympathy/compassion for less fortunate folks.&lt;br /&gt;5. why do people wear flip flops in san francisco?  its fucking filthy out there!&lt;br /&gt;6. drinking more, sleeping less.&lt;br /&gt;7. gentrification is an interesting process.  but not unwelcomed.&lt;br /&gt;8. so much good food over here.  so much.&lt;br /&gt;9. spending more time with good friends, but less personal time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think its a good fit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-765266438319813293?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/765266438319813293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=765266438319813293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/765266438319813293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/765266438319813293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/10/tenderloin-life.html' title='tenderloin life'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5909486827823222372</id><published>2009-10-11T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T19:20:31.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 overheard conversations</title><content type='html'>1) "so she slept in your bed and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt; happened?  you guys didn't do &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well, i touched her ass a little, but she was asleep so that doesn't count!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) (at work) "whats up with all these greasy fingerprints?  this bike looks like it was worked on by a family of italians!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5909486827823222372?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5909486827823222372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5909486827823222372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5909486827823222372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5909486827823222372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/10/2-overheard-conversations.html' title='2 overheard conversations'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-188823879924999377</id><published>2009-10-06T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T19:43:56.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mexico surf trip</title><content type='html'>here are some favorite photos from my trip to zihuatanejo, mexico and surrounding areas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;highlights:&lt;br /&gt;1. lefts, all lefts.&lt;br /&gt;2. caguamas.&lt;br /&gt;3. barbacoa tacos and sopes.&lt;br /&gt;4. siestas y hammocks.&lt;br /&gt;5. pooping in the river, ocean, and on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;6. single fin fun.&lt;br /&gt;7. surfing in boardshorts only.&lt;br /&gt;8. seeing a crocodile in the ocean, but paddling out anyways.&lt;br /&gt;9. rape-eye.&lt;br /&gt;10. every coke is a mexi-coke.&lt;br /&gt;11. waterfalls/rock slide.&lt;br /&gt;12. dogs, so many dogs.&lt;br /&gt;13. i learned to climb a coconut tree barefoot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lowlights:&lt;br /&gt;1. barbacoa farts.&lt;br /&gt;2. sweating, even in the 80 degree water.&lt;br /&gt;3. mosquitos.&lt;br /&gt;4. hot tents.&lt;br /&gt;5. pooping, lots of it.&lt;br /&gt;6. leeches and ticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3532/3987465890_839cc650c8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3532/3987465890_839cc650c8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3515/3987468026_ce7bcd2f00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3515/3987468026_ce7bcd2f00.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2555/3986713735_9b6771642c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2555/3986713735_9b6771642c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2457/3986729303_933d1de05a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2457/3986729303_933d1de05a.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3517/3986716283_5f6b13e400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3517/3986716283_5f6b13e400.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3426/3987477254_ab37bd9e6f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3426/3987477254_ab37bd9e6f.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2623/3987480816_4631cf3f48.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2623/3987480816_4631cf3f48.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2571/3987509642_b053829e72.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2571/3987509642_b053829e72.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3427/3987498378_7f0df0b737.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3427/3987498378_7f0df0b737.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2601/3987507038_8bb63a22ff.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2601/3987507038_8bb63a22ff.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3461/3987471374_b6b4ea5426.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3461/3987471374_b6b4ea5426.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2573/3986748579_cda883c93c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2573/3986748579_cda883c93c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-188823879924999377?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/188823879924999377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=188823879924999377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/188823879924999377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/188823879924999377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/10/mexico-surf-trip.html' title='mexico surf trip'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3532/3987465890_839cc650c8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7272413958643651883</id><published>2009-10-06T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T01:17:54.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>conversation from a rural mexico internet cafe while on a surf trip</title><content type='html'>shaun: "want to see naked pictures of ken's ex-girlfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mitchell &amp; craig: "sure, ok."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "which one?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shaun: "melissa.  can i show em?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "sure, i don't give a fuck. . . ."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7272413958643651883?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7272413958643651883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7272413958643651883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7272413958643651883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7272413958643651883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/10/conversation-from-rural-mexico-internet.html' title='conversation from a rural mexico internet cafe while on a surf trip'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6068426517959289469</id><published>2009-08-08T22:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:37:45.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>small-man syndrome</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gunnarbikes.com/newsletters/10-29-04_ming.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.gunnarbikes.com/newsletters/10-29-04_ming.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to work with a wise older bicycle mechanic named pops.  pops knew the answer to ANYTHING you would ask him.  he taught me many valuable things.  pops has been in the industry for a long, long time, and seen it all.  from being a pro race mechanic for a team, to the the doldrums of the dirty-ghetto shop that my professional shop once was, to mentoring heroin-addicted teenage interns, and even into the current track bike boom.  for better or for worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pops once told me about a strange phenomena that really came to life today, the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"small-man syndrome."&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  although this phenomena exists in many other forms of human nature, i will further elaborate about small man syndrome, specifically as it occurs in the bicycle world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;small man syndrome&lt;/span&gt; occurs when a customer intends to purchase a bicycle, yet absolutely refuses to purchase the one that fits properly.  this phenomena occurs almost exclusively in men (never women) of shorter stature.  instead, they opt to chose one that is clearly too large, disregarding any obvious signs that they should be riding the bicycle one size smaller.  some of these obvious signs may include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) the bicycle is a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"nut-buster,"&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; meaning that the toptube of the bicycle cannot be straddled  with the rider flat-footed on the ground, without the rider's private parts being smashed on top of the bicycle's toptube.  this is often compensated for by:&lt;br /&gt;a) tilting the bicycle to the side while standing over the toptube, or &lt;br /&gt;b) standing on tip-toes, while feigning disbelief, as he is being told that the bicycle is indeed too large for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) the rider assumes a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"superman"&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; position on the bicycle in order to reach the handlebars.  since the height of the bicycle is proportional to the reach, a too-large bicycle frequently is also too long for the rider (unless they exhibit "gorilla arms," which is not completely uncommon).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, a 5'6" gentleman came in to buy a cyclocross bike.  the cyclocross bicycles we sell have a higher bottom bracket than their road bike counterparts, therefore it is not uncommon to size down when selecting an appropriate sized cyclocross bicycle for the rider.  the man tried 2 different sizes, but opted for the too-large size, even though i advised him against it, it was clearly a "nut-buster," and he rode it in "superman" pose.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't even try to stop him from spending $1,100 on a bike that was clearly too large.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why not?  this was pops' advice that i remembered today.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"sometimes, there is absolutely nothing you can could say or do to convince a man that he should buy the bicycle with the smaller frame."&lt;/span&gt; it would fit him better, be more comfortable, and be better for his body in the long run. . . but he doesn't want to hear it.  small-man syndrome effectively encrypts any incoming signals containing logic or reasoning that would otherwise prevent him from buying an ill-fitting bicycle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a good reverse-analogy is vanity sizing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6068426517959289469?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6068426517959289469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6068426517959289469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6068426517959289469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6068426517959289469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/small-man-syndrome.html' title='small-man syndrome'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1583660304261341038</id><published>2009-07-27T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T22:31:46.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>drunk text</title><content type='html'>i received my first creepy text message last night at 1:45am.  it was pretty cool.  girls i know always tell me about or show me text messages from various creepers (i love that kind of stuff), but i could never &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; relate, until now.  (maybe i write creepy texts to girls all the time, but if so, i'm totally clueless)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's what it said, verbatim:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I see you.  Looking vulnerable.  Want to hook up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was from a rando 415 number, and i have a 619 number, so i thought it could be someone i know fucking with me.  what are the odds that someone in SF drunkenly erroneously texts another San Diego transplant in SF's number after last call, who's phone number varies from mine by only 1 digit or so?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my imagination runs wild with all the colorful scenarios i envision as the setting for this intimate conversation. . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;turns out it was the wrong number.  i got all excited for nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1583660304261341038?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1583660304261341038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1583660304261341038' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1583660304261341038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1583660304261341038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/drunk-text.html' title='drunk text'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7800408793412958535</id><published>2009-07-27T00:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T00:20:19.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>locktite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.timesert.com/images/sparkplug/locktite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 402px;" src="http://www.timesert.com/images/sparkplug/locktite.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a guy came in today to ask if we sell locktite.  i said no, but to check any hardware store.  then i noticed he was riding a brakeless track bike, with only 1 toeclip and strap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "why do you need it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "to put on my lockring, it keeps coming loose. (loosens it by hand to show me.  mind you, this is on a bike with no brakes)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "you should never need locktite on a lockring.  you should get another toeclip, too, if you ride brakeless."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "i need locktite because &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;i tried crazy glue&lt;/span&gt; and that didn't work!  i'm not getting another toeclip."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "WTF?!  you used &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;crazy glue?!&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  if its coming loose, its because it wasn't installed properly and may be stripped.  where did you get the wheel, and who installed the cog and lockring?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "bikewheelsdirect.com."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "so you just pulled it outta the box and started using it?  you never took it to a shop to get installed properly?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "no.  but its on there tight. see? (pushing cranks to show lack of cog movement)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "dude.  any wheel with a cog pre-installed from the factory needs to be removed, greased, and reinstalled.  many of the bikes we get from the factory have cogs that can be loosened with my bare hands.  you shouldn't be riding a brakeless bike with one toeclip and a loose cog and lockring on there.  you could die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "well, the guy at the bike kitchen told me to just use locktite on the lockring."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "OMG.  WTF.  is this guy a bike mechanic or just some dude?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "he knows what he's doing, he's there all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "obviously he does NOT.  does he work at a shop or anything?  (guy seems like he thinks i'm full of BS) if you don't believe me, call any other bike shop in SF.  you should never use locktite on a freakin cog or lockring.  if you need it, you did it WRONG."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "he works at sports basement.  hmmm, maybe i won't ask for his advice anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 thoughts from this story:&lt;br /&gt;1) darwinism.&lt;br /&gt;2) my main personal gripe about bike kitchens- they are swarming with misinformation, which trickles its way out and spreads like a disease.  i think the main problem is that bike dudes tend to be very know-it-all about stuff (i'm guilty too, i'm sure).  if you tend to take advice from novice internet bike nerds, you might want to make sure they know what the hell they are doing first.  you could die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7800408793412958535?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7800408793412958535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7800408793412958535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7800408793412958535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7800408793412958535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/locktite.html' title='locktite'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4859561235311993781</id><published>2009-07-26T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T09:39:53.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>revelations about self</title><content type='html'>ken: "leandra was right, i'm a relationship kinda guy." &lt;br /&gt;melissa: "i would date you again. . . . if the thought of being your gf didn't make me cringe."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4859561235311993781?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4859561235311993781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4859561235311993781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4859561235311993781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4859561235311993781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/revelations-about-self.html' title='revelations about self'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5096074306255271183</id><published>2009-07-13T09:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T09:19:28.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a conversation between friends about dating</title><content type='html'>clare: "i have boy problems!"&lt;br /&gt;ken: "really?  i've definitely taken a hiatus from girls."&lt;br /&gt;mike r: "yeah, i've definitely taken a few girls hiatuses. . . "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5096074306255271183?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5096074306255271183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5096074306255271183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5096074306255271183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5096074306255271183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/conversation-between-friends-about.html' title='a conversation between friends about dating'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2224096208897611163</id><published>2009-07-12T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T00:42:15.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>soil saloon cyclocross races</title><content type='html'>the raptor classic: a series of 4 races, all in golden gate park on wednesday evenings.  total D.I.Y. fun in the park, ride whateverthefuck bike you like, beer, campfire, then afterparty at benders. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;week 1) i watched uri WIN the fucking thing on his new singlespeed 650b'er.  i rode a lap on clare's cross concept and decided i would race next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;week 2) my first off-road cycling race.  did it on my serotta hardtail.  so fun.  had to stop along the route to take a shot of margarita and sing a song.  first song that came to mind: vanilla ice.  i dunno why.  i decided that i need to build up a cross bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;week 3) raced on my handsome (brand) frame that i transferred my beater parts onto.  for now, its a singlespeed cx bike.  so sick.  i finished AFTER every single one of my friends that raced.  steve, uri, david, raffa.  it was so fun though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next week: ss cx bike again.  can't wait!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's photos from other people's flickrs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2435/3691959735_bbe78200c7.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2435/3691959735_bbe78200c7.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3376/3659569694_4b4e67dba4.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3376/3659569694_4b4e67dba4.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2430/3658772329_c2530c4156.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2430/3658772329_c2530c4156.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3450/3707811732_6e2fdb937c.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3450/3707811732_6e2fdb937c.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2648/3707000259_15495ae2b2.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2648/3707000259_15495ae2b2.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2543/3691776871_9e0df2c68c.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2543/3691776871_9e0df2c68c.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/spaceball.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1px; height: 1px;" src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/spaceball.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3543/3692014369_b3e6db1773.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3543/3692014369_b3e6db1773.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2439/3691900175_3c65cee4c4.jpg?v=1246855138"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2439/3691900175_3c65cee4c4.jpg?v=1246855138" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2568/3692805432_fcbc9c5fcf.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2568/3692805432_fcbc9c5fcf.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2224096208897611163?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2224096208897611163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2224096208897611163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2224096208897611163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2224096208897611163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/soil-saloon-cyclocross-races.html' title='soil saloon cyclocross races'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-530702972834000735</id><published>2009-06-17T10:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T10:52:54.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>white industries track pedals</title><content type='html'>(i posted this on sffixed, but figured if i put it out there on the interwebs, it would reach a wider audience.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't think there are that many out there yet, so i figured i'd give you guys a review.  the only stuff about them online are pics, but nothing i read was written by anyone who actually tested them yet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i almost bought them a few weeks ago, but didn't because they are expensive as hell, even at the employee purchase price.  then, my coworker got me a set as a surprise gift.  best gift ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3547/3635150646_a50fe1582b.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3642/3634340615_6bf1489825.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. they are fucking awesome.&lt;br /&gt;2. they are most expensive clip and strap pedal in this market.  $235 msrp.&lt;br /&gt;3. think mks GR-9's, but with high quality cartridge bearings, a little wider platform (that was the biggest gripe about gr9's when they came out), and probably lighter.&lt;br /&gt;4. totally CNC'ed, so in theory the flip tab shouldn't break off as easily as the GR-9's do.  the metal is thin, but supposed to be strong.&lt;br /&gt;5. i used them with some christophe toeclips i had laying around.  lots of adjustability side to side, which was useful because there is a small lip on the inside of the platform that keeps your shoe from rubbing the crankarms.  i had to move the toeclips a little outbound to make a comfy fit.&lt;br /&gt;6. the flip tab is weird at first, but you get used to it fast.&lt;br /&gt;7. i think white industries should have made provisions for double straps.  they even have pics of the pedals with toshi doubles on their website!  solution: use long bolts like i did in the 2nd photo, tuck strap underneath.  and/or soma double-gate toeclips if you're into that.  i'm not.  &lt;br /&gt;8. sure, they look sorta spiderman-ish in all the photos you see on the internet, but once set up, they just look like bad ass pedals.&lt;br /&gt;9. i don't even have black anodized parts on my track bike, but i thought they looked nicer in black than silver.  offsets the brass hardware.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other traditional pedals i've used in the past:&lt;br /&gt;mks gr9&lt;br /&gt;mks sylvans&lt;br /&gt;campy track&lt;br /&gt;campy croc d'aune&lt;br /&gt;mks rx-1&lt;br /&gt;kyokuto pro-ace&lt;br /&gt;etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is all, thanks for reading.  feel free to ask q's or try them out if you catch me at work some time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-530702972834000735?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/530702972834000735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=530702972834000735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/530702972834000735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/530702972834000735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/white-industries-track-pedals.html' title='white industries track pedals'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3464955885654187464</id><published>2009-06-04T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T19:07:01.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>friends of the opposite sex</title><content type='html'>today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friend: "if you're going to be my friend, you're gonna have to stop staring at my boobs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i'm sitting lower than you are, so they are at my eye level."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friend: "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; the best excuse you can come up with?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "sorry, i didn't know i was being that obvious."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3464955885654187464?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3464955885654187464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3464955885654187464' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3464955885654187464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3464955885654187464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/friendships-with-opposite-sex.html' title='friends of the opposite sex'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4326851492943461273</id><published>2009-05-31T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T23:22:02.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>getting served</title><content type='html'>Uri: "then the guy on the phone was like,'&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;what size bike should i get to share with my gf. . . i'm 6'3" and she's 5'1".&lt;/span&gt;'  what an idiot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "yeah, thats retarded.  you can't &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;share&lt;/span&gt; a bike!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intern: "you guys all share the shop bike."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken and Uri: (silence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken: "damn, you're absolutely right."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4326851492943461273?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4326851492943461273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4326851492943461273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4326851492943461273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4326851492943461273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/getting-served.html' title='getting served'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-8427049660511969033</id><published>2009-05-31T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T23:15:24.924-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a letter to my friends, from japan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.alibaba.com/images/eng/country_profiles/japan.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 460px; height: 491px;" src="http://img.alibaba.com/images/eng/country_profiles/japan.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dear american friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;japs have the craziest hair.  from typical 'do's, to manga character spikes, white-people blonde locks, 80's GBH leather rocker frizzy style, orange-peroxided black hair, asian boy-band style, strawberry shortcake braids, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i'd get a haircut while i'm over here, but the language barrier and strong probability of my long luxurious locks being transformed into one of the aforementioned makes me think i should wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm on a tour with mostly older folks.  its ok so far.  lots of picture taking.  my mom drives me crazy on a daily basis.  i get my short temper from her.  fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i saw a guy pushing a stroller full of shiba inu puppies.  i took a pic for alex.  i was the cutest thing i've ever seen.  so cute, i wanted to just eat one.  yesterday, we went to the tokyo national museum.  most intriguing items: samurai swords.  why?  because they are fucking awesome, thats why.  also, because i'd never seen thousand year old ones at a museum. . . . usually they are next to the other bitchin knives at the mall store that also sells paintball guns, sweet black button-up shirts with flame/dice embroidery, and those trippy bob marley posters you look at under a blacklight when you are on weeeeddddd, man. . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;ken&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-8427049660511969033?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8427049660511969033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=8427049660511969033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8427049660511969033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8427049660511969033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/letter-to-my-friends-from-japan.html' title='a letter to my friends, from japan'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3730018320822941517</id><published>2009-05-08T19:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T19:42:41.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>advice from a friend</title><content type='html'>ken: "i'm really excited about this. . . i just hope i don't fuck it up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;melissa: "don't worry, you will."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3730018320822941517?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3730018320822941517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3730018320822941517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3730018320822941517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3730018320822941517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/advice-from-friend.html' title='advice from a friend'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3986675591312195424</id><published>2009-04-29T14:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T14:22:57.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>attaining self sufficiency</title><content type='html'>skill training: removing stuck bottom brackets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "ok, then you turn the tool counter-clockwise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youth: "here, hold the bike for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "no.  you need to learn to do it by yourself, without help.  you aren't going to have a personal assistant every time you do this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;later:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "the whole point of your internship is to help you become self sufficient and productive at your job, and your life.  its ok to ask questions, but you aren't always gonna have someone looking over your shoulder to help you do every single task.  there are certain basic things you gotta learn to be able to do yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youth: "ok, cool. (while filling out timesheet)  can you hand me a pen?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3986675591312195424?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3986675591312195424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3986675591312195424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3986675591312195424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3986675591312195424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/attaining-self-sufficiency.html' title='attaining self sufficiency'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7337935717302592340</id><published>2009-04-17T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T20:34:19.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>today i love:</title><content type='html'>working with at-risk youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i spent almost the entire day working with 2 interns today, building/fixing bikes- and they both did great. it was one of those days where you are glad that doing your job is more important than just a paycheck. at times this aspect can be frustrating, but today was golden.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7337935717302592340?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7337935717302592340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7337935717302592340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7337935717302592340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7337935717302592340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/today-i-love.html' title='today i love:'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1946615259412334954</id><published>2009-04-02T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T22:43:27.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>epic sf -&gt; sc ride</title><content type='html'>a group of us rode from san francisco to santa cruz today, along hwy 1.  it was beautiful.  the fog kept us cool till we were in SC county.  we took old san pedro mtn road, which is a 100 yr old semi-paved wagon trail that goes around devil's slide.  it was like nothing i've ever ridden on, especially on a road bike.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3645/3408819866_de07efce49.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3389/3408821938_47ac80baaf.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3555/3408014793_27f5055d20.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3356/3408823498_27a7f5cce0.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3545/3408016271_333936e0aa.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3298/3408015447_7c56ec5235.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3374/3408016481_249fc403c3.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3538/3408826464_ac45b3d1eb.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3360/3408017797_3a7f27ecf7.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3587/3408018521_40ca7ea896.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3580/3408827206_cf810f28a6.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3647/3408021807_0d1dc4b821.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1946615259412334954?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1946615259412334954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1946615259412334954' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1946615259412334954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1946615259412334954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/epic-sf-sc-ride.html' title='epic sf -&gt; sc ride'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5591019781151896446</id><published>2009-03-23T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T19:12:25.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my car was broken into</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.images.carracing.com/nctdi/02outback.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="http://static.images.carracing.com/nctdi/02outback.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hardly drive anymore.  when i do, its usually just to do the "SF shuffle," which means moving your car around twice a week to avoid getting a ticket in the street sweeping zones.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the past year and a half i've lived here, i've been pretty lucky because i've never had my car broken into.  after my honda civic was stolen in san diego around 2006, i vowed never to own another car with upgrades/mods.  i wanted a plain ol' stock family wagon.  i got a subaru outback.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't keep anything in my car.  i'm parking it on the street in downtown san francisco, 24/7.  i see cars with broken windows literally every single day.  my method: i leave it completely barren, with untinted windows for any beholder to look and find nothing.  if you are dumb enough to leave a bicycle, electronics, a purse or bag in plain view, some crackee WILL STEAL IT.  i even left a bunch of blankets in the hatchback so that if the seats are folded down, it looks like someone might be sleeping there.  they were originally used in the move, but just kinda stayed in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i walked to my car today, something felt weird.  i'd parked it on haight, just below octavia.  octavia is a pretty bad street for broken into cars- a friend got his stuff stolen there once.  anyway, i didn't see any broken windows as i walked up, so i felt ok.  i looked inside.  stuff was all over the seats.  it took me a second to realize that i hadn't left it that messy- someone had gone through my shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;turns out the thief was kind enough to just pry back the rubber seal on the door jamb and somehow let himself in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's the turnout:&lt;br /&gt;1. they didn't get anything, because as stated above, i leave nothing in my bone-stock car.&lt;br /&gt;2. there was no permanent damage to the car.  i put the rubber seal back in myself.&lt;br /&gt;3. i learned how to discreetly break into a subaru, should the need ever arise.&lt;br /&gt;4. they didn't even find my spare change?!  crack is a helluva drug.&lt;br /&gt;5. they didn't bother to take my cd's?!  so sad, nobody buys music anymore.&lt;br /&gt;6. since my shit was already spread out everywhere, i figured it was a good time to clean out my car.  so i did.&lt;br /&gt;7. months ago, somehow i had lost the knob that you pull to fold the back seat down.  you could manage to still do it by grabbing the threaded screw, but the knob was MIA.  the crackhead found it for me, as i found it laying on my back seat.  thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5591019781151896446?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5591019781151896446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5591019781151896446' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5591019781151896446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5591019781151896446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-car-was-broken-into.html' title='my car was broken into'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1734681115272532486</id><published>2009-03-22T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T18:57:00.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tips and tricks for changing a flat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.eslbee.com/flat_tire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 263px;" src="http://www.eslbee.com/flat_tire.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: "hi, i got a flat tire.  i need to buy a tube."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "ok, what size tire?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: (pointing)"its that exact bike right there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "alright, here you go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;are there any tricks to changing a flat?  like without taking the wheel off the bike?&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "WHAAA???!  sure.  here's the trick: take the wheel off the bike."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: "yeah, but it seems easier to leave the wheel on there, like if you were in a race or something?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "thats impossible.  think about it.  the tube is completely round and the wheel is enclosed in the rear triangle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: "what if you disconnect this part right here (pointing at quick-release)?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i suppose that could be done, but you are making it a lot harder than just taking off the wheel, removing the old tube, replacing with a new one, and putting the wheel back on.  you would have the entire bike in the way of working on the wheel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: "ah i see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i'd recommend looking online for a how-to tutorial with pictures to show you how to do it.  that way you will get it right the first time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer: "ok, thanks!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1734681115272532486?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1734681115272532486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1734681115272532486' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1734681115272532486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1734681115272532486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tips-and-tricks-for-changing-flat.html' title='tips and tricks for changing a flat'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4927188347970887408</id><published>2009-03-18T10:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T10:32:47.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>electronic shifting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.pedalmag.com/images/pedal/4893406e46e88Di2_GROUP.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 432px; height: 341px;" src="http://www.pedalmag.com/images/pedal/4893406e46e88Di2_GROUP.2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday our shimano rep came by the shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i rode a cervelo with the new DA group that uses ELECTRONIC shifting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;derailleurs are hard wired (not wireless), brakes are normal, cranks are normal. front derailleur auto-trims, and makes a cool sound. shifting is actuated by two buttons that are in the place of the shift levers. weight savings are non-existent since any weight saved in the shifters is gained back in the derailleurs plus battery pack. super expensive too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shifts pretty crisply, but i'm not sold on it. i guess i'm just old fashioned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4927188347970887408?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4927188347970887408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4927188347970887408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4927188347970887408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4927188347970887408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/electronic-shifting.html' title='electronic shifting'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5019373431084486782</id><published>2009-03-09T22:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T23:19:30.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TX homies weekend</title><content type='html'>3 of my best friends came up from houston and austin for the past 5 days.  we've been friends for about 15 years, through it all.  skateboarding, high school, punk rock, straight edge, surfing, hardcore, drugs, prison, law school, and beyond.  i love how we can live so far away but still get together a couple times a year and its like no time lost.  it was like a 5-day sleepover at my house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i ate soooooo much food.  pure, shameless, texas-style gluttony.  last night we went for chowder breadbowls at fisherman's wharf, then went immediately over to in-n-out to get burgers and fries for dessert.  we had to move fast so that we wouldn't feel full, which would prevent us from further gorging our guts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other stuff we did: city loops on bikes, muir woods, twin peaks, best biscuits and gravy ever, riding trains, TL bars, mission bars, burritos, dolores park, dim sum, moved clare from TL to panhandle, kings/circle of death, upper haight bars, hill climbing, hill bombing, thrift shopping, farting, PBR, pupusas, full house house, and good ol' male bonding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on my way to drop them off at the oakland airport, a seagull flew straight into the roof rack on my subaru.  that was sad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3392/3343725752_fba2b2c7fb_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3392/3343725752_fba2b2c7fb_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3355/3343723086_5f6b0232be_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3355/3343723086_5f6b0232be_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3360/3343720470_98db624181_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3360/3343720470_98db624181_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3543/3342882257_694a1f8ba1_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3543/3342882257_694a1f8ba1_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3358/3343712696_66f6e6f681_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3358/3343712696_66f6e6f681_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3551/3343710422_f0719c6058_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3551/3343710422_f0719c6058_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3383/3342872447_370a2280f3_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3383/3342872447_370a2280f3_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3343/3333738269_844b5f9c8d.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3343/3333738269_844b5f9c8d.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3369/3334571972_b0e3c84216.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3369/3334571972_b0e3c84216.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3621/3334571156_1cf520098d.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3621/3334571156_1cf520098d.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3331/3334570546_20c315e170.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3331/3334570546_20c315e170.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5019373431084486782?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5019373431084486782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5019373431084486782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5019373431084486782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5019373431084486782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tx-homies-weekend.html' title='TX homies weekend'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3392/3343725752_fba2b2c7fb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7471509386678764807</id><published>2009-02-28T15:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T16:02:43.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the stolen bike market</title><content type='html'>stolen bikes are everywhere.  bike shops that sell used bikes must necessarily take the utmost precautions to avoid liability when purchasing used bikes off of people who walk into their shop.  some collect driver's license numbers, other ID, etc.  however, if you reach a certain dollar amount, you legally need a pawn license to do so.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my old shop, which sold only used bikes, had purchased bikes on 3 different occasions which turned out to be stolen.  the police got involved, as did the owners in some cases, and it was not pretty.  of course, none of these were bought directly from the thieves- stolen bikes typically get bought and sold a few times before ending up at a swap meet or flea market, where salvage-types buy things and resell them for a profit.  this was the case for all of the aforementioned instances, and in all cases, the bikes were returned to their owner, free of charge.  but the shop took a hit on the purchase price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my current shop is a non profit.  we gladly accept donations, but cannot buy bikes off people.  its just a shop policy.  people try to sell used bikes to us all the time- many seem legit, but some are &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;clearly &lt;/span&gt;stolen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this conversation happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "hey, do you guys buy used bikes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me : "no.  many shops in the city choose not to get involved, since there are a LOT of stolen bikes floating around san francisco."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "yeah, but my bike &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; stolen. . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "huh. do you think that people who try to sell stolen bikes typically mention, 'by the way, THIS BIKE IS STOLEN?'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7471509386678764807?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7471509386678764807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7471509386678764807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7471509386678764807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7471509386678764807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/stolen-bike-market.html' title='the stolen bike market'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6707995278791395737</id><published>2009-02-23T14:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T14:11:24.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>heavenly, lake tahoe- feb09</title><content type='html'>we rented a cabin for a few days of snowboarding.  with john roark, steve, shaun, other steve, angie, and this dude named greg.  the code we got for the lockbox that keeps the key to the cabin was wrong, so after trying unsuccessfully to break in, we ended up getting a cheap sketchy hotel the first night.  had this not happened, we wouldn't have learned about chevy's $3 happy hour specials, which we indulged in 2 nights in a row.  the trip was super fun, as always.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3415/3299457548_661b6ba302.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3415/3299457548_661b6ba302.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3619/3298629171_1e32651806.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3619/3298629171_1e32651806.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3568/3299454202_c407a4aa9d.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3568/3299454202_c407a4aa9d.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3065/3298624867_5bd606b8c4.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3065/3298624867_5bd606b8c4.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3648/3299450862_e8ab72ff75.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3648/3299450862_e8ab72ff75.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6707995278791395737?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6707995278791395737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6707995278791395737' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6707995278791395737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6707995278791395737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/heavenly-lake-tahoe-feb09.html' title='heavenly, lake tahoe- feb09'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3969692438868920705</id><published>2009-02-09T00:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T00:33:33.608-08:00</updated><title type='text'>chain installation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.parktool.com/images_inc/repair_help/chain04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://www.parktool.com/images_inc/repair_help/chain04.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been installing bike chains for a long time.  its not hard to do, especially if you've got the right tools for the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;about 5 months ago, a guy came in with a broken chain on a brand new cannondale road bike he bought from a big bay area chain (name omitted) bike store.  since the bike was only a week old, i advised him to bring it back to the store he got it from, since they could at least comp him labor for installing a new chain, and probably even give him a discount on the parts, since it should still be covered under a warranty.  chains shouldn't just break for no reason, especially when they are brand new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, he decided to just have me replace his chain, since he wanted the work done ASAP and didn't want to deal with the hassle of bringing the bike all the way to the other store, booking an appointment, and having to wait for days.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i installed a new chain on his new cannondale, and adjusted the rear derailleur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, i didn't realize it was the same guy, but this cannondale guy ended up becoming a pretty regular customer of our shop.  we built him up a track bike with a handbuilt wheelset that he's spent a lot of money upgrading lately.  not unusual, people get really into that stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today he came in to pick up his track bike with $550+ worth of upgrades we did to the drivetrain. as i rang him up, he mentioned the time where i replaced his chain (it was long time ago, but i did remember him).  he told me that when he went back to the other shop, they looked at the chain i installed and told him that we did it wrong.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"WRONG?!  what shop told you that?"  i begged to differ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he said (not maliciously) that the guys at the other shop told him that the chain pin should have been installed the other direction.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when a chain is new, it comes with one open ended outer plate, and one closed ended inner plate.  sometimes the outer plate has a pin sticking out of it, which is what you use to fasten them together.  the correct and easiest way to thread a new chain onto a bike, is to thread the closed ended inner plate over the cassette and through the rear derailleur.  that way, the open end (with or without pin sticking out) can easily be slipped through the front derailleur and over the chainrings.  then you attach the two ends together at the bottom. (if you have ever done this, you know what i'm talking about)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the way i've always done it.  i'm pretty sure this is the way everyone does it.  i didn't even question it, since its harder to do it the other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told the guy that, like many other techniques related to bikes and other things, there are always differing opinions about how things should be done.  some people who subscribe to a certain method assume that all the other methods are wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if the guys at the other shop, in an effort to dilute their own botched chain install/derailleur adjustment, were trying to take a stab at the mechanical diligence of my shop (which is just plain bad business technique, in my opinion), i was offended.  i asked him, "did the chain that i installed break, or the chain that you got from them?" and, "in the last 5 months or so, have you had any problems with the chain that i installed?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think he understood my point.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after he left, i even checked the shimano directions just to make sure i'd been doing it right all this time.  yes i was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3969692438868920705?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3969692438868920705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3969692438868920705' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3969692438868920705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3969692438868920705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/chain-installation.html' title='chain installation'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6140750610019786116</id><published>2009-02-01T17:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T17:37:11.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>super bowl sunday</title><content type='html'>i did a headlands loop with ben and alex today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3500/3246092540_c82c08d3b1.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3078/3246095402_8709358f88.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3107/3245267265_2d62fa977e.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3506/3245268123_368393e93f.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3523/3245287161_eaa03552ab.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3504/3246119784_ed756899af.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3075/3246126228_ca5d223a42.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/3245293981_36ceb12580.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3085/3245302163_00406d088b.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6140750610019786116?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6140750610019786116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6140750610019786116' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6140750610019786116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6140750610019786116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/super-bowl-sunday.html' title='super bowl sunday'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4909326148000964513</id><published>2009-01-30T00:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T00:54:35.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the number of speeds on a bicycle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.campagnolo.com/repository/news/img1/GRUPPO11S_news.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 518px;" src="http://www.campagnolo.com/repository/news/img1/GRUPPO11S_news.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;campagnolo has released 11 speed grouppos for 2009.  that means the max number of cogs you can now have on a rear road cassette is up from 10 to 11.  so you can have anywhere from 5 to 11 cogs on a rear hub.  or 3 internal gears.  or a single gear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the front chainring, you may have 1, 2, or 3 chainrings.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a friend of mine recently built a bike with 2 front rings and 1 rear cog.  it was a 2x1.  totally ridiculous.  on the same bicycle, he also built a wheel with 2 different lacing patterns on the same side of each hub.  so 2 sets of 4 spokes did one thing, and 2 sets of 4 spokes did something else.  ON THE SAME SIDE OF THE HUB.  weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that being said, these are the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;possible&lt;/span&gt; number of speeds or gear combos you can have on a bicycle:&lt;br /&gt;1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 18, 20, 21, 22, 24, 27, 30, 33.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with that in mind, over the last few days, i've been asked some pretty unpossible questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy #1: "what if i just want to make it a 4 speed in the back?  what is best way to do that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "there has never been a 4-speed freewheel or cassette made for a bicycle.  ever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy #2: "yeah, so i know a little about bikes from working on them myself. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "well, how many gears are there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "its a 17 speed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "oh yeah, 17 speed. . .cool!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4909326148000964513?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4909326148000964513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4909326148000964513' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4909326148000964513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4909326148000964513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/number-of-speeds-on-bicycle.html' title='the number of speeds on a bicycle'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7893798860657921187</id><published>2009-01-29T23:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T23:27:32.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>twin peaks</title><content type='html'>i've been organizing thurs night rides for the last 4 weeks now, and its been fun as hell.  here's some pics (thanks dom!) from the top of the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y154/aznb0i719/bmw/0129091951.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y154/aznb0i719/bmw/0129091951.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y154/aznb0i719/bmw/downsized_0129092024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y154/aznb0i719/bmw/downsized_0129092024.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7893798860657921187?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7893798860657921187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7893798860657921187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7893798860657921187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7893798860657921187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/twin-peaks.html' title='twin peaks'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y154/aznb0i719/bmw/th_0129091951.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3561259142255699467</id><published>2009-01-23T23:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T23:33:24.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>handlebar FAIL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.decrepitoldfool.com/images/01/brokenhandlebars.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 425px; height: 309px;" src="http://www.decrepitoldfool.com/images/01/brokenhandlebars.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy on phone: "hi, the handlebars on my bike broke." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "what kind of bike is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "its an old trek touring bike."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "did you crash the bike?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "nope.  i was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;just riding along&lt;/span&gt; (mechanics commonly refer to this phenomena as JRA- the most-cited cause of catastrophic failure amongst bicycle laymen) and they broke! i'm really lucky i didn't get hurt, actually."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "did you buy the bike used? do you know if the bike has ever been crashed?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "i've had it forever, its from the 70's.  i've probably had it for 20 years!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "metal can fatigue or get stressed over time.  especially if its been damaged.  we probably have something that will work for a replacement."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "do you have any &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really cheap used bars&lt;/span&gt;?  like $5?", &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "so the risk of buying used parts is that you never know where they came from, or if they've been crashed, or how reliable they might be over time.  sure, a used handlebar that isn't obviously bent is probably fine to use, but you always run the risk of there being catastrophic failure, like what happened to you.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;are you sure you wanna shop around for used $5 handlebars?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "hmmm good point."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "just bring it in and we'll see what we can do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "ok thanks, bye."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3561259142255699467?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3561259142255699467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3561259142255699467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3561259142255699467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3561259142255699467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/handlebar-fail.html' title='handlebar FAIL'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1169740166752269254</id><published>2009-01-19T19:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T19:37:34.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>el corte de madera mtb's!</title><content type='html'>shop was closed for MLK day, so my coworkers and i rode mtb's at el corte de madera, about 40 miles south of SF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3112/3210951735_c03d2ea74a.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3434/3211831312_696e6e73af.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3102/3210979363_ccc62ffe3a.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3077/3210981587_2fd841081c.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3416/3210987615_fb9fe0f23c.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3428/3210986665_9926ab3875.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1169740166752269254?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1169740166752269254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1169740166752269254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1169740166752269254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1169740166752269254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/el-corte-de-madera-mtbs.html' title='el corte de madera mtb&apos;s!'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2932713867545220114</id><published>2009-01-17T20:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T20:32:13.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FIRE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/northernireland/yourplaceandmine/images/bfast-linenhall-fire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 249px;" src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/northernireland/yourplaceandmine/images/bfast-linenhall-fire.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was a fire in the building adjacent to mine tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was talking on the phone with my mom when i smelled smoke, looked out the window and saw fire in the alleyway, and then heard the fire alarms go off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you never know what you would do in a situation like this until you are faced with it.  here's what i did:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. stuffed my laptop in my messenger bag.&lt;br /&gt;2. put on some jeans, shoes, and a hoodie.&lt;br /&gt;3. grabbed my track bike.&lt;br /&gt;4. grabbed my car keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my rationale:&lt;br /&gt;1. this is gonna take a while, so if i can't come back, i can ride my bike somewhere to wait it out.&lt;br /&gt;2. if my building catches on fire, there is irreplaceable shit on my laptop.  i have photos too, but i didn't wanna carry that crap.  theres photos of my dad before he passed away (most importantly) on my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;3. if i gotta go somewhere, i can throw all my crap in my car to store it.  hell, i could even sleep in my car if i have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also the resident manager for this building.  however, i didn't take it upon myself to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. make sure all 40 units worth of residents are evacuated, if they are home.  i figured the alarm, smoke, and people running down the stairs was fair warning.  i'm no hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. i didn't know how to turn off the alarm.  after the fire was out, it seemed fine to return to our unharmed building, but that damned alarm was still going off.  i called the building maintenance guy and was on hold when other tenants had already rounded up a fireman to turn of the "fire box," which i didn't even know we had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. note to self: next time, it would be good to grab that key.  and also the building keys too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm lucky i live alone now and didn't have to rescue any pets.  and although its not my most expensive bike, i learned that my favorite is my track bike.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2932713867545220114?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2932713867545220114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2932713867545220114' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2932713867545220114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2932713867545220114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/fire.html' title='FIRE!'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3183514828148647663</id><published>2009-01-12T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T10:14:04.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Buying and Selling on Craigslist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6964.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6964.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole city of San Francisco is only 7x7 square miles, and very densely populated.  Therefore almost all places within San Francisco proper are accessible by bike.  Traffic is a nightmare, public transportation, while effective, is not very efficient.  It can take over an hour to cross town via train and/or bus.  Naturally, bikes are the most efficient means of transportation.  There are tons of people on bikes.  One would think that the larger number of riders per capita would dictate more used bikes on the market, which would drive the price down, right?  Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The used bike market in SF is ridiculous.  Its capitalism at its finest.  More riders= more demand for bikes = higher prices  (both in shops and by private parties).  High rent and overhead attributes slightly to the high cost for a used bike at a shop.  Sadly, these factors also lead to more bike theft.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In today's used bike market, you have only 2 real options. 1) Craigslist, or 2) Ebay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, there are other bike-related internet forums out there that you could sell your item on, but they are often slow and are only going to attract someone who is interested in your item.  This only happens quickly if your item is 1)low or under- priced, 2) highly collectible or rare.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of all these factors, is the strongest deterrent to non-local sales is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;shipping&lt;/span&gt;.  Shipping a bike doesn't have to be super expensive, but its always a hassle.  Boxing it up carefully takes a bit of time and finesse, and the possibility of the buyer receiving the item damaged in transit may render your sale null and void, therefore making the seller lose time and money.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in a nutshell, if you are selling a pretty common used bicycle or part, it may not be worth your extra headache and/or wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craigslist is the most commonly used local sales website.  Its great.  However there are certain unspoken rules of etiquette/common sense that apply when buying and selling bicycles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my rant about the sale of Melissa's bike (pictured above) that occurred over the last couple days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. This transaction is typically between 2 private parties.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does this mean?  This means that the seller cannot and will not be expected to receive payment in check or credit card.  CASH ONLY.  I know its the old fashioned way and kind of archaic, but its the only way to be safe out there.  Its simple.  Please come ready to pay if you intend to buy.  Don't be surprised when I decline your offer to accept either of the other payment methods.  Have you never bought used crap off Craigslist before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Side Rant: Who the fuck uses personal checks anymore? They are only good for paying rent.  If my bike shop doesn't accept checks, I sure as hell won't from some dude I don't even know. . . The only people that use them is people who don't have the money to pay (yet), and are hoping they will acquire more funds by the time the transaction is finalized, by nature of the fact that this payment method takes forever to process.  I'm not a gambling man, and I'm certainly not willing to get involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Selling your car and deciding to commute by bike is an admirable and noble thing to do.  Buying a bike is a step in the right direction that many should take, and I applaud your commitment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I'm just a guy selling a bike.  You cannot expect me to teach you how to ride a bike.  I understand that riding road bikes is a little weird at first, but still, 45 minutes of my time is a lot.  I did everything short of putting training wheels on it for you.  If the bike fits, you should buy it and have a good friend hold the saddle for you and push you off like your dad did when you were younger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. A bike mechanic friend or any "bike guy" can definitely be a useful resource when purchasing a used bicycle if you don't know anything about bikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, if you plan on having your "ex-bike mechanic" friend take a look over the bike before you buy it, please bring him with you the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; time you meet with me.  That will save you the trouble of having to make 2 trips to meet me, and will save me a lot of time as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bikes are not like cars.  They are much simpler machines.  Its not like there are some hidden defects or repairs going on that you don't know about.  If it works, it works.  If something is messed up, it can be replaced.  On a steel frame, you can reweld it if its cracked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM a bike mechanic.  Bringing your friend over as a scare tactic isn't going to make me disclose other pertinent information I might have otherwise left out.  I'm not trying to sell you a fucked up bike, that would be seriously morally reprehensible, and bad karma at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Lastly, if you are going to bring an "ex-bike mechanic over," please bring one that actually knows stuff about bikes.  I've been doing this for a long time.  I could tell the friend you brought over didn't know ANYTHING about bikes.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;He didn't even touch the bike.&lt;/span&gt;  Any competent person that knows at least a little about bicycles/componentry would have at least squatted down to see what type of deraillers/shifters/hubs the bike has, since they weren't visible from the photos.  If it were me, I'd ride the bike, check the hubs and bottom bracket for play, check the shifters, squeeze the brakes, and look the entire thing over.  I've done that before for other friends, it only takes a minute or two.  I asked him if he was familiar with bikes like this, and he replied, "Uh, not really."  That was like bringing over an "ex-car mechanic" who didn't even look under the hood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, enough ranting for now.  I'm tired and sick.  Am I really this bitter?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad you were able to obtain $40 less than my asking price in cash from the ATM and cash-back from your debit card.  I let you have it for cheaper because I was sick of dealing with flaky people and wanted it to be done with.  Like I said, I was selling it for a friend, therefore the price isn't exactly flexible, and its not really my decision.  Meeting you 3 times was 2 times too many for me- I'm a busy guy with 2 jobs.  I hope you enjoy your new used bike.  See you on the streets!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3183514828148647663?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3183514828148647663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3183514828148647663' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3183514828148647663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3183514828148647663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/buying-and-selling-on-craigslist.html' title='Buying and Selling on Craigslist'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6535107450706977573</id><published>2009-01-01T12:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T13:14:08.765-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy new year</title><content type='html'>last night was fun.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my resolution is to be more open minded and down for whatever.  i've turned into a grouch lately, it comes with age i suppose.  i'm so set in my ways that i shoot down anything that is outside of my normal routine.  thats lame.  i'm working on it. . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's some dialogue excerpts from my night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. (at a party)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_CD1AstbF99s/R29uDTB8WkI/AAAAAAAAAKE/bjjl2JpgHUg/vivi73008+red.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 444px; height: 600px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_CD1AstbF99s/R29uDTB8WkI/AAAAAAAAAKE/bjjl2JpgHUg/vivi73008+red.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alex: "what do you think about that girl with the cardigan, she seems very nice. . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "yeah, but she's a fag hag."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alex: "true, she did come in with 2 or 3 gay dudes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(girl twitches and rubs her nose)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken and alex, simul-fucking-taneously: "oh shit? COCAINE problem!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. (by the bacon dog cart)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2056/1751833442_409bf6068d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2056/1751833442_409bf6068d.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vanessa: "mmmmm bacon-wrapped hot dogs!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rando short dude: (that is trying to strike up conversation with vanessa) "they are so good, have you ever had one before?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken and vanessa: "fuck yes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude: "i dunno if they're real though, they might be imitators. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "dude, they've got a cart, some hot dogs, and bacon. . . what more do you need?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6535107450706977573?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6535107450706977573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6535107450706977573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6535107450706977573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6535107450706977573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='happy new year'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_CD1AstbF99s/R29uDTB8WkI/AAAAAAAAAKE/bjjl2JpgHUg/s72-c/vivi73008+red.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-6721185646073244696</id><published>2008-12-11T00:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:56:03.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>role models</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mentorleague.org/images/kostoglou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 253px;" src="http://www.mentorleague.org/images/kostoglou.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an ex-intern stopped by today.  he actually stops by about twice a week, just to hang out or whatever.  we enjoy his company (a lot more now, especially since he's just there for the hell of it, and we don't have to put up with his 23979383498 questions if we don't feel like it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youth: "i got a suit today.  it was free, from this program at the place i'm staying."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "FREE?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youth: "yeah, and they have these counselors that help you find a job and stuff. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "damn, i never got a free suit . . .  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;you should sell it.&lt;/span&gt;  and buy. . . . &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;stuff&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youth: "what?!  why?  it might be useful for finding a JOB, you know?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "oh yeah, thats good.  get a good job, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;then sell it&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youth: "boy, you really are a good role model for at-risk youth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "well, you're no longer an intern, so we aren't required to be good role models for you anymore.  just regular role models."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;youth: "you don't have to worry about that, i've got plenty of '&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;regular role models&lt;/span&gt;' in my life. . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that made me laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-6721185646073244696?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6721185646073244696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=6721185646073244696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6721185646073244696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/6721185646073244696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/role-models.html' title='role models'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7667148617757215414</id><published>2008-12-07T22:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:03:38.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>supermarket street sweep 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3207/2941106918_e338f3b365.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3207/2941106918_e338f3b365.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we did this charity alleycat race yesterday, to collect food for the SF food bank.  5 checkpoints(grocery stores) throughout the city, with a manifest listing what specific items to pick up from each store.  it was SO fun.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;clare and i decided to do the entire course backwards, which ended up tacking on 8 extra miles to the loop.  oops.  the cool thing was, as always, we got to explore parts of SF we'd never been before.  we rode a total of 29 miles, lots of climbing.  the farther we rode along, the heavier our bags got.  it was fun.  i typically only ride about 2 miles with a full bag of groceries. . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did it on my track bike, she took the fuso.  it was fast and fun.  when the afterparty wrapped up, we grabbed dinner in the tenderloin, then i slept for 11 hours straight.  seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/3091825450_d2d426d543-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/3091825450_d2d426d543-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/3090984567_ba4c1869aa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 376px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/3090984567_ba4c1869aa.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7667148617757215414?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7667148617757215414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7667148617757215414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7667148617757215414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7667148617757215414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/supermarket-street-sweep-2008.html' title='supermarket street sweep 2008'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3207/2941106918_e338f3b365_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-534919644649482272</id><published>2008-12-06T09:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T09:49:32.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wheels, rims, and tires. . . not the same thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;rim&lt;/span&gt;= the rear hoop of a wheel, the outer aluminum ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;wheel&lt;/span&gt;= the collective build of a rim, hub, and spokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;tire&lt;/span&gt;= the rubber part that mounts on the outside of the wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "hi, i wanted to see what the price of a rear rim would be."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "just the rim, or the whole wheel?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "uh, i guess the whole thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "ok, what kind of bike do you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "uhhhh. . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "is it a road bike, mountain bike, hybrid?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "well, its wider than your average tire. like if you cut it in half, see, it would be like 2 feet.""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "uhhh. . . .tires are measured by &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;width&lt;/span&gt;, in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;millimeters&lt;/span&gt;.  not by diameter.  if its a road bike, there are 2 diameters of wheels, one is called 700c, and the other is 27 inches.  you can tell by reading whats on the side of the tire. the price differs between them, as well as you choices of options."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(somewhere in there, the dude hung up.  he probably resorted to yelp to write a bad review.  fuck.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-534919644649482272?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/534919644649482272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=534919644649482272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/534919644649482272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/534919644649482272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/wheels-rims-and-tires-not-same-thing.html' title='wheels, rims, and tires. . . not the same thing'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4072384058822991951</id><published>2008-11-26T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T21:01:22.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>white zaffiro tires</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://homepage.mac.com/freshtripe/GarageSaleImages/GarageSale_1202847486_716.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://homepage.mac.com/freshtripe/GarageSaleImages/GarageSale_1202847486_716.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a guy called today with a typical fixed-gear-parts-related-question, followed by a question so absurd that i thought he was just fucking with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "hi.  do you guys carry the white zaffiro tires?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "yes.  they are. . . let me see. . . $30.  we also have the gran compe white tires for $60 each."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "ok.  um. . . do you have any experience with these tires?  i mean, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;do they get dirty easily&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (at a loss for words)"well, um. . . .they are &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;white&lt;/span&gt;.  they get dirty pretty much as soon as you leave your house.  you could clean them, i suppose, but that would be sort of a losing proposition.  unless you just like your tires to be clean. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "ok, thanks.  bye!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4072384058822991951?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4072384058822991951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4072384058822991951' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4072384058822991951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4072384058822991951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/white-zaffiro-tires.html' title='white zaffiro tires'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-956038629625586490</id><published>2008-11-06T23:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T00:00:14.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wtf, i DID vote NO on prop 8?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/no_on_prop_8_sticker-p2179627761451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 210px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/no_on_prop_8_sticker-p2179627761451.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hi A,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some resident keeps posting stickers on the front door that say "vote NO on prop 8." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  not that it has any relevance whatsoever, but i did vote NO on prop 8.&lt;br /&gt;2.  unfortunately, prop 8 passed on election day.&lt;br /&gt;3.  election day was 3 days ago.&lt;br /&gt;4.  i've scraped off 3 stickers already, and another one is now posted.&lt;br /&gt;5.  i don't know if some resident has a personal vendetta against an unknown person in the building they &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;believe to be a proponent of prop 8&lt;/span&gt;, but thats just not the case.  i'm removing the stickers because they are vandalism, and its my job.&lt;br /&gt;6. can you please print some letter advising them not to do so, i'd rather not make a sign and get personally involved in this pointless banter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you!&lt;br /&gt;ken&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-956038629625586490?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/956038629625586490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=956038629625586490' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/956038629625586490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/956038629625586490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/wtf-i-did-vote-no-on-prop-8.html' title='wtf, i DID vote NO on prop 8?!'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-8421531958175116485</id><published>2008-10-30T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T21:26:39.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>aerospokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.deptstaff.main.jp/images/P1000716.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 470px; height: 263px;" src="http://blog.deptstaff.main.jp/images/P1000716.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SF is a mecca for track bikes.  it is the heart of many trends that have swept the nation and/or world, for better or worse. "fixie kids" (i loathe this word, along with any other forms or plays on the word "fixie," but i'll save that for its own separate entry some day) in other US cities and even other countries look to our fine city by the bay for inspiration.  SF was the first to release a track bike specific video, setting forth an explosion of "crews" and various other videos documenting riders and their locales.  its great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of said often-mocked trends is the re-introduction of the aerospoke wheel.  its a five-spoked, carbon composite wheel made for aerodynamics.  messengers used to buy cheap old carbon wheels from roadies because they were cheap and cool looking.  cheap because they were yester-year's technology.  they look cool while rolling, and are easy to put a beefy NY chain lock through them when locking up.  anyways, aerospokes are HEAVY.  like 5 lbs per wheel heavy.  any aerodynamic advantage gained is null and void compared to the extra weight you are bolting to your bike.  but they do look cool rolling.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my shop has recently started carrying these candy-colored products.  the weird thing is, most of the customers coming out of the woodworks to buy them are either out-of-towners (this is a dying trend in SF, it boomed in 2005), or weird roadies from god-knows-where.  one roadie removed his ksyrium SL (suuuuperlite wheel) to bolt on a black composite colored aerospoke.  why?  "aerodynamics," he said proudly after scoffing at all the hipster track bike riders in the city who are rocking THE EXACT SAME PRODUCT HE JUST BOUGHT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here is a snippet of a conversation i had with a hyper, excited intern the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intern: "wow, cool!  so what are those aerospokes are made of again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "carbon composite."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intern: "so thats a carbon weave, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "well, sort of.  its carbon, but not woven.  its mixed with glue and made in a mold, like plastic.  basically, its like plastic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intern: "so its super light, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "no."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intern: "its not?  why not?  i thought it was supposed to be light??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "here." (i grabbed an aerospoke and a 27" cheapo spoked wheel and hand them to him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intern: "WHOA, this is really &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;heavy&lt;/span&gt;! (he hands them to another intern) so why do people want them, because they are aerodynamic?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "people want them because they look cool.  if they tell you its because they are aerodynamic, its because they don't want to admit that they look cool.  they are aerodynamic under certain conditions, but not just riding around the city."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intern: "so these don't have to be trued, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "its not that they don't have to be trued, its that they &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;can't&lt;/span&gt; be trued. (i grab the aerospoke and lead both interns to the truing stand, put the wheel in, and spin it.  the wheel is rubbing both arms of the truing stand, totally out of whack)  does that look true to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intern: "oh my gosh?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "exactly."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-8421531958175116485?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8421531958175116485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=8421531958175116485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8421531958175116485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8421531958175116485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/aerospokes.html' title='aerospokes'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-382704069361828658</id><published>2008-10-26T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T21:08:12.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mission path alleycross race</title><content type='html'>sunday 10/25/08.&lt;br /&gt;organized by dirtydave and friends, with tons of sponsors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40+ riders, 7 were girls.  most checkpoints had a dirt off-road type of path, and we jammed all over the mission, dogpatch, financial district, and potrero hill.  clare got 20th (3rd girl), and i got 21st.  it was SO FUCKING FUN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here are some pics i lifted from other peoples flickrs(&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;thank you if they are yours!&lt;/span&gt;), will update as more pop up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2979554869_dfee781ae2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2979554869_dfee781ae2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2979555251_a0226624cf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2979555251_a0226624cf.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2980412148_6e107cd7aa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2980412148_6e107cd7aa.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2972232539_73117f8f48.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 334px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2972232539_73117f8f48.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2980422298_57877c5f57-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2980422298_57877c5f57-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2975472100_d377b92e0d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2975472100_d377b92e0d.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2972216161_5f3e90c3ee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2972216161_5f3e90c3ee.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2973062888_ae7589e4c8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2973062888_ae7589e4c8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2974619465_4ec8cc36ca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/2974619465_4ec8cc36ca.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-382704069361828658?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/382704069361828658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=382704069361828658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/382704069361828658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/382704069361828658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/mission-path-alleycross-race.html' title='mission path alleycross race'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1473735922806820713</id><published>2008-10-23T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T00:47:31.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i have become the comic book guy of bikes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.westga.edu/~llipoma/comic-book-guy-milhouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 379px;" src="http://www.westga.edu/~llipoma/comic-book-guy-milhouse.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, sort of.  basically.  well, not really.  those who know bikes will understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been reprimanded for lack of sensitivity in my workplace.  this it the 3rd time in recent history that a customer called the non-profit that owns my shop to complain (i think both others are documented in my prior blogs).  while the non-profit is great and very supportive of us, they aren't bike people.  so everything has to be explained to them by my poor boss.  sometimes they understand, but some things just don't make sense to them.  it can be hard for us, since its almost like a language barrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's an abbreviated version of what happened.  sensitive guy comes in with a folding bike:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;s.g.: "can you fix?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "no."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;s.g.: "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt;?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "yes, NO."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;s.g.: "what do you &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;mean&lt;/span&gt; NO?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "bike shop = no work on dept. store bike.  your fold bike = d.s.b. low quality part, no adjustment, no replacement parts, etc etc" (this is an age old argument)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;s.g.: "OK OK i get it!  BUT YOU WERE RUDE TO ME!  YOU MADE ME FEEL LIKE CRAP!  YOU COULD HAVE BEEN NICER!  I DON'T WANT TO SUPPORT YOUR SHOP!  YOU ARE LAME!  WHAT YOU DID WAS LAAAMMMMEEEEE! YOU ARE JUST SO. . . . . . L A M E ! ! "  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this rant went on for like 1 min nonstop.  i tried to interject a sincere apology for my tone coming off as rude or whatever, but he didn't even take a breath to let me get 1 single word in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i stopped talking.  i realized that it was pointless to apologize because:&lt;br /&gt;a) he wasn't listening;&lt;br /&gt;b) he didn't care what i had to say; and &lt;br /&gt;c) it was obvious he had very serious issues related to rejection rooted much much deeper than getting turned down by a fucking bike shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instead, i waved goodbye, told him to have a nice day, and pointed at my ears with a nod to show that i was listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i get any more reprimands, i may be suspended without pay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1473735922806820713?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1473735922806820713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1473735922806820713' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1473735922806820713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1473735922806820713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-have-become-comic-book-guy-of-bikes.html' title='i have become the comic book guy of bikes'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-8796609515360898761</id><published>2008-10-11T22:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T22:49:46.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"i did macaframa the other day"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.boxdogbikes.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/macaframa.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.boxdogbikes.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/macaframa.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a dude told me that on the phone today. . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude: "do you have chainrings smaller than 46 teeth?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "yes, why do you need it? what kind of bike or cranks do you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude: "i want to get a smaller chainring to have a lower gear.  i have an IRO frame, and sugino messenger cranks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "oh ok, its a track bike.  its probably cheaper to buy a new cog to change your gear ratio than to buy a new chainring. you have a 130 bcd rather than a 144 true track bcd.  130 bcd chainrings in 1/8" can be pretty pricey.  what is your gearing now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude: "i've got 46x17.  i was thinkin i could get a 44t chainring to make it easier to go downhill.  or maybe a bigger cog.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;i did macaframa the other day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and i was spinning out on the hills."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (it took me a second to figure out that he meant he raced in the macaframa premiere alleycat.  macaframa is not a verb.) "wait, you mean you were spinning too fast downhill?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude: "yeah, i want to not have to pedal so fast to be able to control my speed better downhill."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "oh ok i see.  so what you &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; mean is that you want a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;higher&lt;/span&gt; gear ratio, so that you won't be spinning so fast downhill.  therefore, you will need a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;larger&lt;/span&gt; chainring, or a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;smaller&lt;/span&gt; cog.  the best way to control your speed downhill is to skip or skid. . . and if you run too big of a gear ratio, you won't be able to climb those hills anyway. . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i explained how gear ratios work (ie, bigger front ring = same effect as smaller rear cog), how to control speed while descending, what gearing is appropriate for SF for most people (i think he was from the burbs), etc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this entire conversation must have lasted 15 minutes.  he did macaframa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-8796609515360898761?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8796609515360898761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=8796609515360898761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8796609515360898761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8796609515360898761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-did-macaframa-other-day.html' title='&quot;i did macaframa the other day&quot;'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2608549910784655574</id><published>2008-10-10T20:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T20:58:04.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bug detectives</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/Photo86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/Photo86.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/Photo84.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/Photo84.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are on the lookout.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2608549910784655574?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2608549910784655574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2608549910784655574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2608549910784655574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2608549910784655574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/bug-detectives.html' title='bug detectives'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5932261728128254636</id><published>2008-10-04T09:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T09:43:40.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this is funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dapperstache.com/ptoa/tblofawesome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.dapperstache.com/ptoa/tblofawesome.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5932261728128254636?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5932261728128254636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5932261728128254636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5932261728128254636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5932261728128254636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-funny.html' title='this is funny'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-7402356086054188259</id><published>2008-10-01T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T14:16:06.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>couldn't have said it better myself</title><content type='html'>"I hate the fact that people use the bicycle as a political tool. These days, I just want to ride my bike, and I like to think I write for people who want to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not out to save the planet, or ban automobiles. In my real life, I have cut back to one small car, but I did that for economic reasons, not political. A person can survive without a car if they wish, but that is not my wish. I enjoy the convenience of owning my own car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it, the extreme left wing, eco-nuts think they own the exclusive right to the bicycle? And why is it, if you ride a bicycle everyone thinks you are an extreme left wing, eco-nut?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-dave moulton&lt;br /&gt;(from his final blog entry-blog is finished, he's not dead or anything)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-7402356086054188259?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7402356086054188259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=7402356086054188259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7402356086054188259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/7402356086054188259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/couldnt-have-said-it-better-myself.html' title='couldn&apos;t have said it better myself'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4865405850916462555</id><published>2008-09-29T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T19:15:43.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>transvestites and bikes</title><content type='html'>i live in SF.  there are TONS of transgender/transvestite/transexuals around.  tons.  fine by me, i have no problem with that.  a small(ish) percentage of said trannys ride bikes, so naturally they come to shops like ours, who will treat them like any other customer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from my experience, i find it interesting which choices will be made when it comes to selecting gender-specific components, like saddles.  saddles are made to fit different anatomical parts, like sit-bones.  one time i offered a tranny the choice between the mens and women's version of the same saddle- he/she chose the female version.  he/she had a man's body, hips, butt, everything.  i thought it was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, a tranny came in to shop for a new bike.  he/she was looking for something preferably in pink and black.  we didn't have anything like that, so i showed him/her what we did have.  he/she wanted a step-through frame because he/she often wears skirts.  unfortunately, that style of frame has been phased out because it is heavier, weaker, and bikes are more unisex nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he/she asked about the bikes with women-specific geometry, and i answered all questions diligently and concisely, and he/she was on his/her way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's the thing: &lt;br /&gt;1. cheaper "women specific" bikes are usually identical to their mens models, but with a stupid paint job and maybe a white saddle and bar tape.  its all marketing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. higher end bikes with "women specific geometry" will have a shorter toptube than a mens version of the same bike.  why?  because women generally have longer legs than a man of the same height, but not a longer torso.  this is a generalization, so it does not apply to all women.  therefore, not all women &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; women specific frames.  you can make a unisex bike fit with adjustments to, or swapping stems and/or seatposts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in this case, the tranny was 6'2", and looked like a dude with a wig on.  he/she did not need women specific anything.  why bother making the search for a bike more complicated??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess its just part of identifying with the gender, which i will never understand. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4865405850916462555?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4865405850916462555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4865405850916462555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4865405850916462555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4865405850916462555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/transvestites-and-bikes.html' title='transvestites and bikes'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-8670752813242129824</id><published>2008-09-11T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T09:54:26.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>road bikes = track bikes?</title><content type='html'>guy: "hi, i wanna buy a road bike."&lt;br /&gt;me: "ok, let me show you what we've got." (show him some road bikes)"&lt;br /&gt;guy: "what about these?" (points to track bikes)&lt;br /&gt;me: "those are track bikes. . . fixed gears, and some are single speeds.  i thought you said you wanted a road bike?"&lt;br /&gt;guy: "why, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;is there a difference&lt;/span&gt;?" (spoken condescendingly)&lt;br /&gt;me: "track bikes have 1 gear, whereas road bikes have up to 30. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he test rode both, decided to buy a road bike (but only if we could install red tires and red bar tape ASAP so he could ride it home TODAY).  then he tried to pay with a fake, non-activated credit card, and said he was "going to go to the bank."  he never returned.  what a douche.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-8670752813242129824?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8670752813242129824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=8670752813242129824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8670752813242129824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8670752813242129824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/road-bikes-track-bikes.html' title='road bikes = track bikes?'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-903456559252688217</id><published>2008-09-09T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T10:09:29.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>toe overlap</title><content type='html'>track bikes have toe overlap.  they are designed for racing on a velodrome.  its not a big deal, you get used to it.  any proper frame with true track geometry will have at least a little bit of overlap between your pedal and front tire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some dude came into the shop yesterday with a $1000 bankroll and a credit card, ready to purchase a custom track bike.  after making very crucial decisions as to the specs of his build (ie, what color deep V's, tires, cranks, and grips to match), we built it up and he rolled off into SF's busy streets.  brakeless.  he refused.  the frame was undrilled, but he opted not to have a keirin brake installed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he returned 10 min later.  he was pissed because he almost ate shit on the mission district's mean streets.  the culprit?  TOE OVERLAP.  what is defective about this bicycle?  why does my toeclip touch on the tire?!  i was apalled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;darwinism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-903456559252688217?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/903456559252688217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=903456559252688217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/903456559252688217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/903456559252688217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/toe-overlap.html' title='toe overlap'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1570771193926882445</id><published>2008-09-06T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T09:47:09.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>phone etiquette</title><content type='html'>i hung up on some douchebag on the phone the other day.  he ended up complaining to the non-profit org that owns my bike shop.  i didn't get reprimanded per se, but it was definitely a hot topic.  i've been instructed to transfer all douchebags immediately over to my more mild-mannered boss.  ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douche: "yeah.  hi.  i need to make an appointment to bring my bike in for a tune up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken:  "well, we need to have a look at your bike to figure out how much work it needs so we can give you an estimate, and how long it will take."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douche: (already pissed) "I WAS JUST IN THERE THE OTHER DAY AND THEY SAID THEY COULDN'T DO A TUNE UP WITHOUT AN APPOINTMENT!  I'M NOT GOING TO DRIVE 40 MIN JUST TO GET AN APPOINTMENT FOR ANOTHER DATE!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is where i started explaining how it works, he interrupted me, yelling, and i hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(he called back, naturally)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douche: "YEAH, ITS ME AGAIN."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "how may i be of assistance to you today, sir? (sarcasm, its hard to convey via internet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douche: "I SPENT $800 DOLLARS THERE AND THIS IS HOW I'M TREATED?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i tried to explain something to you, but you weren't listening to me.  you were yelling instead.  when i realized that the conversation was going nowhere since you weren't listening, i hung up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douche: "ok fine i'm listening now. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken:  "weekends are our busiest days.  if you bring in your bike on a weekend, which you probably did the first time, we can't tune up your bike on the spot.  we also can't make appointments over the phone without looking at your bike, nor can we reserve a slot without a deposit.  you need to bring it in and allow time for us to make an estimate, then book you a date for a tune up.  the fact that you live 40 min away and have to drive here does not give you any special privileges.  there's nothing we can do to help you there.  thats your choice for going to a bike shop thats 40 min away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douche: "ARE YOU FINISHED?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douche:  "its 40 min round trip- i live in the marina (not surprising- its doucheville over there)! I USED TO KNOW THE PERSON THAT RAN THE OLD NON PROFIT THAT OWNED THE PLACE!  THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!  UHHH. . . FUCK YOU, LATER!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "bye!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, he said, "fuck you later."  ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1570771193926882445?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1570771193926882445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1570771193926882445' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1570771193926882445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1570771193926882445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/phone-etiquette.html' title='phone etiquette'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1587423390721745485</id><published>2008-08-19T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T17:52:46.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>basket bikes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3170/2779028995_5903991954.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3170/2779028995_5903991954.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, i'm back in the saddle. . . sort of.  i can only ride my coaster brake bike, thanks to newly added more upright bars.  it will be a month till the cast comes off.  my collarbone is healing nicely after surgery.  i got the stitches out yesterday.  still need physical therapy to regain motion.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today we rode to japantown for sushi and shopping.  here is another shot of the basket bike:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3226/2779885200_e4d77acc7b.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3226/2779885200_e4d77acc7b.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1587423390721745485?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1587423390721745485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1587423390721745485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1587423390721745485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1587423390721745485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/basket-bikes.html' title='basket bikes'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1984384430611282196</id><published>2008-08-12T08:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T08:42:47.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>questionaire</title><content type='html'>(i posted this on SFfixed, then decided i should chronicle it here.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have surgery tomorrow for my broken collarbone and hand. pretty gnarly- i get ti plates and compression screw, for the weight weenie in me. yesterday, i had a nurse call me to ask questions about my medical history and prep me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nurse: "do you exercise regularly?"&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i ride a bike every day."&lt;br /&gt;nurse: "how many minutes do you ride?"&lt;br /&gt;ken: "hmmm, lets see, 45. . . no probably at least 1 hour a day. sometimes way more."&lt;br /&gt;nurse: "how many days a week?"&lt;br /&gt;ken: "uhhhh, 7. (?)"&lt;br /&gt;nurse: "you ride 7 days a week?!"&lt;br /&gt;ken: "yeah. walking takes too long!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1984384430611282196?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1984384430611282196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1984384430611282196' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1984384430611282196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1984384430611282196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questionaire.html' title='questionaire'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5995894059672233133</id><published>2008-08-12T00:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T00:32:01.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>surgery</title><content type='html'>soooo, my bone breakage is so bad i gotta get surgery.  in the ER, the doctors and i were hopeful it wouldn't be necessary.  but after seeing the shoulder and hand sports medicine specialists, i wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you break your collarbone, most of the time it heals itself.  pretty fast, too.  and you regain almost full range of motion.  but &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;only if&lt;/span&gt; the bone displacement (overlap) is 2cm or less.  mine is 3cm.  this will make my left shoulder way weaker and my reach way shorter.  if you put a plate in there, it will correct it and avoid this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the scaphoid bone (i've learned) is a pesky hand bone that has a weird blood supply that prevents it from healing properly sometimes.  it can take up to 3 months to heal, but sometimes it &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; heals.  what does that mean?  chronic wrist/hand pain.  for life.  if you put a titanium screw in there, it will hold it back together to help it heal properly.  on top of all that, there is a slight twist where the fracture is on my hand.  the screw will compress it back in place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the doctors were like, "you are a young, active dude.  get the surgery."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my appointment is wednesday morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5995894059672233133?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5995894059672233133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5995894059672233133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5995894059672233133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5995894059672233133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/surgery.html' title='surgery'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4574943546709974229</id><published>2008-08-09T13:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T13:10:05.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"when i ride, it look like the sun"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.californiareport.org/slideshows/scraperbikes/"&gt;scraper bike slideshow&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4574943546709974229?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4574943546709974229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4574943546709974229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4574943546709974229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4574943546709974229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-i-ride-it-look-like-sun.html' title='&quot;when i ride, it look like the sun&quot;'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-9157790305474272050</id><published>2008-08-04T00:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T00:19:25.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i broke my collarbone</title><content type='html'>it sucks.  and a bone in my left hand.  descending a super steep curvy road in marin headlands (conzelman rd- YES that one) on road bike. lucky it wasnt worse.  helmet saved my head.  fishtailed rear, straightened out and allllmost recovered, but had gotten too much speed, slid some more trying to speedcheck, clipped guardrail, went over bars.  luckily not over guardrail!  rocky cliffs below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was with friends, clare came to rescue, picked up me and banged up guerciotti.  mostly the slr saddle got annihilated, maybe a shifter too.  went to UCSF hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may need surgery, prob not- but dont know for sure yet.  have the next few days off and more if necessary.  gotta wait and see.  hard to type 1 handed! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;k&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-9157790305474272050?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9157790305474272050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=9157790305474272050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/9157790305474272050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/9157790305474272050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-broke-my-collarbone.html' title='i broke my collarbone'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1515886952269444501</id><published>2008-07-20T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T21:32:56.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bike mechanic's bikes</title><content type='html'>weekends are a bike shop's busiest days.  seems like weekdays are all about parts, track bikes, custom wheelbuilds, etc.  weekends are all about complete off-the-shelf bikes.  the weekday clientele consists of mostly students, work-from-home types, young people, and other non-9-to-5 jobbers.  weekends are all about "i want to buy a bike, here-and-now" types.  its typical.  we make most of the weeks profit margin in those 2 days alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, i sold some weird creepy foreign dude a bike today.  he seemed like a typical knowitallthatreallyisquitemisinformed type.  you know, they people that incorrectly answer their own questions with misinformation they heard about.  but he ended up being quite a friendly fellow and bought a road bike and some other stuff.  this conversation made me laugh:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "do you have a bike?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "of course!  i don't know if you could work in a bike shop and not ride bikes. . . well, i guess you could, but that would be weird.  i have 4 bikes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "you must have the nicest bike in the whole city!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "haha.  well unfortunately, we don't make enough money to have the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;nicest&lt;/span&gt; bikes in the city. but we do have ok ones and we love to ride them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;steve: "computer guys, CEO's, anyone that lives north of the bridge: now &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; have the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;nicest&lt;/span&gt; bikes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "yeah they do.  they don't ride them as much, but they do &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;own&lt;/span&gt; the nicest ones."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;steve: "they look real nice hanging on their walls."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1515886952269444501?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1515886952269444501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1515886952269444501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1515886952269444501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1515886952269444501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/bike-mechanics-bikes.html' title='bike mechanic&apos;s bikes'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5936539405314465036</id><published>2008-07-20T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T09:25:42.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>open house</title><content type='html'>the housing market in SF is a nightmare.  finding a place is sooo tough.  its super competitive, and a lot of times its just luck.  even when you do, its way overpriced.  but its a great place to live.  its the most amazing city i've lived in thus far.  i love it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, its impossible as an apartment manager to show apartments to every fucking retard that contacts you about them.  i'd get like 15 emails a day from people who want to see the units.  to solve this, i just have open houses, where like 40 people show up and get herded into a tiny studio like sheep.  its the only efficient way to do it.  this isn't my full-time job, so thats the way its gotta be.  i'm a person, i have a life too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, i'm the kind of person that likes to give a shitload of info up front to preempt any stupid questions.  i hate answering the same stupid questions to every idiot that emails me.  here is the latest snippet from my recent craigslist ad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, but due to the large number of emails I have received, I do not have enough time to make individual appointments with every single person to view them. To be fair, I will show them as a group to whomever shows up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No, I will not show you the unit before the open house.&lt;br /&gt;2. No, I will not show the unit at a later time after the open house.&lt;br /&gt;3. No, you may not obtain an application prior to the open house.&lt;br /&gt;4. If you can't make it to the open house, no need to email me to explain why you will not be in attendance.&lt;br /&gt;5. If you will be attending, just show up. No need to email me to RSVP or extend any cordialities. I just don't care. I'm not the person who will be reviewing your application anyway.&lt;br /&gt;6. Again, NO i will not make a personal appointment for you to see it. There is just not enough time to do this for EVERYONE.&lt;br /&gt;7. If the studio is still available next week, I will repost this ad with the date of the next open house. Stay tuned.&lt;br /&gt;8. Lets be honest, if you don't have at least decent credit, the management company probably won't approve you, so don't waste your time (or mine).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5936539405314465036?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5936539405314465036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5936539405314465036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5936539405314465036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5936539405314465036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/open-house.html' title='open house'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-4601086038404882816</id><published>2008-07-15T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T23:04:10.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pink bike parts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.benscycle.net/images/Nitto%20259%20Pink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.benscycle.net/images/Nitto%20259%20Pink.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two younger dudes came into the shop today, browsing for track bike parts.  one of them decided to buy a bunch of pink crap. . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "i'll take those pink nitto bars, pink toptube pad, and those pink soma toeclips, please." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "ok, i'll get them for you." (begin gathering parts, taking them out of showcases)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "i love you, man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "i love you too.  i don't know you that well, but i feel something special.  i think we could make it work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guy: "me too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "i mean, we have sooo much in common!  you like bikes, i like bikes. . . . its great!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this conversation made my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-4601086038404882816?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4601086038404882816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=4601086038404882816' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4601086038404882816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/4601086038404882816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/pink-bike-parts.html' title='pink bike parts'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2164361129577756855</id><published>2008-07-06T00:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T01:18:54.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>handlebars, gas prices, etc.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.snuffledopple.com/images/31135o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.snuffledopple.com/images/31135o.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some douchebag came into the shop today. . . he had called in earlier asking about a particular pair of nitto handlebars we carry (stupid looking ones that are for hybrid bikes- we ordered them on accident and had 2 pairs left).  my coworker told him that we had a pair, so he decided to drive to the shop to pick them up.  no big deal.  but of course, when he got there, we were in the process of selling what looked like they were the last pair of those bars.  here is a glimpse of what ensued:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "well, i guess that was the last pair.  let me see if theres more in the back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;douchebag: "WHAT?!  BUT I CALLED AND SPOKE TO YOU OR SOMEONE ABOUT THOSE HANDLEBARS?!  I WAS TOLD YOU WOULD HOLD THEM FOR ME!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i didn't speak to you on the phone.  we don't &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;hold&lt;/span&gt; anything for anyone.  people call in an say 'yeah, i'm gonna pick em up right now' all the time.  we don't have those, but we have these similar bars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;db: "I DON'T WANT THESE, I WANT THOSE!" (slams handlebars and a pair of toeclips on the glass counter) "YOU GUYS NEED TO BETTER REPRESENT WHAT YOU HAVE OVER THE PHONE!  DO YOU THINK GAS IS FREE?  I WOULDN'T HAVE DROVE OVER HERE IF I KNEW YOU DIDN'T HAVE THEM!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(by this time, i'd walked away and put away the bike parts, thinking he will just leave pissed.  my coworker had already found the last pair of identical handlebars in a showcase, and taken the parts off of it to sell him)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "sorry we can't predict the future.  we had no way of knowing that someone would buy those handlebars today before you showed up.  and we had no way of knowing that you would get in your car and drive from wherever the fuck you just came from to pick them up." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;db: "oh please, i don't need you to school me about that. . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "we don't have a fucking employee meeting every time somebody calls and says they want a part and agree that it will be set aside for that person.  gimme a break."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;db: "if you have any interest in hearing me out, you need to shut your mouth and just listen for a minute. . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ken: "i have &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt; interest in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; you are going to say.  i'm going to work on this bike now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was pretty pissed.  by now, a coworker stepped in, he bought some stuff. . . but not the fucking handlebars he came for?!  what a fucking douchebag.  then he jumped into his &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;orange range rover&lt;/span&gt; and peeled out.  god.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2164361129577756855?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2164361129577756855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2164361129577756855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2164361129577756855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2164361129577756855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/handlebars-gas-prices-etc.html' title='handlebars, gas prices, etc.'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3544219521026503925</id><published>2008-06-25T20:51:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T20:52:25.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my first sffixed ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/tuesnight62408.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/tuesnight62408.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night, tues night lake merced loop.  sprinting and hydrating.  good fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3544219521026503925?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3544219521026503925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3544219521026503925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3544219521026503925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3544219521026503925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-first-sffixed-ride.html' title='my first sffixed ride'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-3488180585661318190</id><published>2008-06-22T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T22:37:27.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>customer service</title><content type='html'>"its not that the customer is always wrong. . . its just that they are never right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-k&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-3488180585661318190?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3488180585661318190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=3488180585661318190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3488180585661318190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/3488180585661318190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/customer-service.html' title='customer service'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-5371914074281901628</id><published>2008-06-20T09:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T09:30:45.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>everyday normal guy</title><content type='html'>this video cracked me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5PsnxDQvQpw&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5PsnxDQvQpw&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-5371914074281901628?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5371914074281901628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=5371914074281901628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5371914074281901628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/5371914074281901628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/everyday-normal-guy.html' title='everyday normal guy'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2313070599467332204</id><published>2008-06-14T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T20:42:11.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>idiots</title><content type='html'>(non bike nerds beware)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some kid comes in today (yes, i can call them "kids," as i am quickly approaching 30) with a mega-downtube spicer track frame, minus front wheel, and with a rim in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "hi, can you cut my steerer tube and install this bottom bracket?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "ok, but what kinda bb is that in there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "its a shimano un. . something or other."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "the problem is, your sugino 75 cranks are ISO(italian) taper, and you are using the wrong bottom bracket, which is JIS (japanese). what kinda bb do you want to put in there, because if its ISO, your square taper might be messed up and it won't sit properly (total bike nerd talk, but thats my job).  its best if you just stick with a JIS bottom bracket, since its already deformed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "ok cool, because i have this dura ace bottom bracket." (hands it to me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "this is a 103.  you need a 107.  this won't fit anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "but its DURA ACE?!  i didn't know it was only a 103."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "it says it right here on the side (showing him).  sorry dude, its the wrong size AND the wrong taper."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, later in the same conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "ok, well can i just get some spokes and nipples to build this front wheel?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "ok, let me see the hub and rim."  (i look at them, utterly puzzled)  "this hub has 24 holes, and your rim has 36 holes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "i'm going to do a crow's foot pattern, and skip every 3rd hole.  i've done lots of research."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(fyi: THIS IS A FUCKING HARD IF NOT IMPOSSIBLE FEAT FOR EVEN THE MOST EXPERIENCED WHEELBUILDER.  i don't think its even possible, and if it is, it would require a lot of trial and error to get the spoke lengths calculated properly to the nearest millimeter increments. . . )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coworker: "dude, have you ever &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;built&lt;/span&gt; a wheel before?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "no, but i've thought about it quite extensively for some time now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "look.  this is whats gonna happen.  even if we could somehow figure out some wacky spoke length for this build, you're gonna try and it won't work out because there are multiple ways to build a crows foot pattern and its really hard, especially for your first wheelbuild.  then you're gonna come back to us pissed, and blame us for giving you the wrong length spokes, and we're not gonna take them back.  in theory, if you had US build a wheel, we would just recut spokes till we got it right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kid: "well what do you charge for a wheelbuild?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "fifty bucks.  but i don't think we're gonna take on this ridiculous project for you at any cost."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2313070599467332204?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2313070599467332204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2313070599467332204' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2313070599467332204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2313070599467332204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/idiots.html' title='idiots'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-8303309045678969687</id><published>2008-06-04T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T09:22:12.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"asianly"</title><content type='html'>this is a new word that clare coined yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: "was he raised &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;asianly&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;K: "what?!  i dunno. . . was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; raised &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;asianly&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-8303309045678969687?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8303309045678969687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=8303309045678969687' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8303309045678969687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/8303309045678969687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/asianly.html' title='&quot;asianly&quot;'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-1123825808497036621</id><published>2008-05-30T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T22:38:44.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>crystal springs reservoir</title><content type='html'>we went on a fun ass road ride today.  waaaay south into san mateo county, then took a train part of the way back.  total distance = over 30 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6927.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6927.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6933.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6933.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6939.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6939.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6930.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6930.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6936.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6936.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6941.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d37/k3nho/IMG_6941.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-1123825808497036621?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1123825808497036621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=1123825808497036621' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1123825808497036621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/1123825808497036621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/crystal-springs-reservoir.html' title='crystal springs reservoir'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403116206270559495.post-2127647378864441804</id><published>2008-05-26T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T11:06:44.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bike rap</title><content type='html'>kinda cheesy, but cute.  i watched the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i found true freedom, i was riding my bike"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tbc1TiOGfyY"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tbc1TiOGfyY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3403116206270559495-2127647378864441804?l=insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2127647378864441804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3403116206270559495&amp;postID=2127647378864441804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2127647378864441804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3403116206270559495/posts/default/2127647378864441804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insearchofthequietlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/bike-rap.html' title='bike rap'/><author><name>k3nho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02456821972161585232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NCMEr1rj2Zc/SAXDXhzJG3I/AAAAAAAAAAU/-rSN9pbbiGc/S220/IMG_1526.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
