Several weeks ago, the intrepid reportage of yougotdropped unearthed this photo of one of our riders:
We scrambled to explain how it happened that a bike race led to the exposing of a single ass cheek, pure and pristine as clotted cream. No road rash. No evidence of impact. That and a pansy-type pose, appropriate for an Oxford grad with a towering intellect, true class and a Gandhian dose of humanity, but in America somewhat suspicious. Especially with the small child in the background.
To explain the picture, we told stories about flying bikes thrown from grassy knolls, about gluteal muscles exploding Hulk-purple-pants-like, about an "epic" pre-race refried beans session, about women driven to madness and violence by the sight of DVR-garbed ass.
How many kits do we go through at DVR, you ask?
It does get tiring, all the times the ladies (and men, yes) rip the kits off our supple bodies.
It's time we fessed up. We shouldn't be ashamed of who we are, or what we do (aside from crashing a lot and wearing jorts and frightening women and children). No, this unfortunate incident requires explanation and unearthing.
In the spirit of free inquiry and justice, I give you a true explanation of what occurred that unfortunate day, causing our man to expose a cheek: a Booty Pop malfunction.
As much as we hope to admired for our riding, our not wrecking, our team spirit, and our hearts of gold, the truth is that we're insecure. Particularly about the shape of our posteriors.
Well, no longer. Behold our new USAC-sanctioned race team:
District Velocity Racing p/b The Bike Rack and made sexier by Booty Pop