This is Eric, he won the Hanford Criterium.

This is me racing, with a broken back.
Yeah, I said it, broken back.
Got eighth and Eric 'the future' Riggs won. He doesn't have a broken back.

This is Keith...

This is Keith trying to figure out what the hell chicks talk about after a race.

Man, what a week. All hopped up on pain meds, finally decide to go out and ride and I get taken out by two kids in a black BMW! Unreal.
They look at me, say something, I thought I knew them, so I ask, "What?" I mean they were going so slow I thought they were asking me directions, next thing I know the driver of the car, who is all but 19 and whiter than white rice, calls me a 'cocksucker', pulls the steering wheel hard to the right, hits me with his car and I go flying off into the gutter! WTF? I lay there, in the gutter just astonished that this just happened to me. Witnesses all around but not one digit off this guys' plate. Standard.
Long story short: go to Stanford, nothings wrong but thye CT scanned me to be sure, cause my back is killing me now, and they find two transverse process fractures on my L1 and L2 vertebraes. But they are about a week old, the doc tells me.
Ah, thank you BMC rider from Merced, you're quite the douche for causing that crash at McLane!

This is Marco on his Treo. This is like everyday, all day, come rain or shine. 

This is Senor Hudak's painting, which is now giving me issues. Too much bridge? I think so. It's coming along though, and I'm excited to finish it- if only the weather would cooperate. 

Been pounding the Vicodin for the last couple of days due to a severe kidney bruise that I got at McLane Pacific Criterium. Ouch. Can't hardly bend anyway at all. It's starting to be really annoying. I'll explain on how I got into this predicament:
I was racing round in circles, like I do almost ever weekend and I felt kind of frisky, so I moved on up into the front end of the pack. It was here that I rode next to a BMC rider who was starting to develop some interesting turning skills and then tried to ride under my bottom bracket, but first decided it'd be good to tackle me. So I went down like a sack of rocks, then got plowed from behind by a footballer on wheels, who rammed into my back, flipped over the bars and compound fractured his scapula. A massive pile up with 2 to go in the race. Where we were all going to make a little cash, now we were all going to go to the emergency room. I felt as though Mike Tyson had punched me in the kidney and flet like I was going to hurl. Was it the ribs, or internal? Only X rays would tell, so off we went to the hospital for another set of films (my second this week).
The doctor looked at them and said 'Nothing broken, but we'll give you some morphine for the pain.' So off I went into la la land for a while. She gave me a scrip for Vicodin and I've been on that now for a couple of days and it's all been real fuzzy. I think I went to work yesterday and I'm pretty sure I worked on some bikes, but it might be a good idea for Bruno to keep an eye on me and make sure I tighten all the bolts.
So, I'm out of commission for a bit and will most likely skip this weekend in Fresno since I can't lift my left leg over the bike. Maybe I'll go see a movie that almost won an Oscar.