...showed up in Jersey City with my rusty green Huffy, easily the crappiest bike at the whole event...yeah shitty bikes, represent! Matt Ryan got nailed by another racer, but being the courier soldier he is, got up, completed the mandatory flat, and finished. Back at the hotel he was too sore to leave, so Harper(!), Nick Dale, a low blood sugar ADD DC courier called Soda and I headed out to Lower East Side for festivities. Wow, a bar full of messengers, imagine that...at 1:30 we headed out accross the W'burg bridge to Bklyn, kept on keepin on till abot 4 or so, back accross the bridge and found a diner in Manhattan. Ate and then back on the train to Jersey City- DEEP Jersey City, got back about 7. Slow wakin up to BBQKing doin gravity bong hits. We find out that in our absence MadMatt has been on the roof deck being told there's lots of airline stewardesses that will do him, give quick sex, blow him, dome, etc. Then he goes to the local bar where the bartender starts buyin him Genesee (my hometown beeer!). Sounds like MR has the JC hook up! We make it to see the end of the competition. The highlight? Never seen someone puke like Tim Mason did after the race. Mr. Pink and the Messman come in DFL in the cargo race, but win by a mile in style points. I got to wash my hair in the cascade. Big group foto at the end- 1500 people maybe? Matt Ryan loses points for not letting me in the picture cuz I ain't a messenger, I threaten to take his colors.Massive group ride is next, we decide to go DEEP in to JC for the last hurrah and the stewardess kegger BBQKing has inside info about. Guess what? No kegger. Harper and I conclude MattR had been talking to his hand puppet, who had promised him dome. Lonely, lonely Matt. BBq and I venutre out in to the urban landscape that just don't exist on the Left coast and in to Matt's home bar. The barkeep recognizes his ol' pal Matt Ryan and sets us up with 2 Gennys. Apparently BBQ did not notice the rainbow guiutar in the front window. Promised quick sex by his hand on the roof and finding the Puerto Rican gay bar. Mad Matt is havin problems. Next am we need to check out so we head up to the roof for one last beer. 8 stewardesses are tanning on the roof. Maybe Matt isn't crazy after all. Actually, he kinda is, as we find out the woman promsing dome ended up puking in her bed that nite. No matter we end up finishing off a 12 pack as Harper is told he looks like Brad Pitt and Matt should be a male model. I am not a courier, I am nothing. Stewardess report: one kept dangling her cans for us, the 50 year old in her thong undies that were see-thru in the front were on full disply. And yes she shaved. We carried Nick D's bag back to Manhattan, said bye to him, we went to drink in Manhattan, after 5 or 6 Matt left. Harper and I went to see the fireworks from a roof top, said good bye.

In conclusion, CMWC NYC "05 was fantastic- how can you go wrong in NYC? And thisschool teacher mashed his rustyass Huffy all over the city hangin with the fixies.

                                              -Ovalizer