01.9.2012 | 7:01 am
Beehive Nursing Home, Salt Lake City (Fat Cyclist Fake News Service) – The cycling world was rocked today when a sweeping, all-encompassing lawsuit was lodged against every cycling body in the world. Further, every single individual cyclist — both road and mountain, with the exception of dedicated single speeders — was also named in the the suit, making this the widest-ranging, most comprehensive, and freakishly thorough suits ever lodged.
Said Derek J Vanderwood, lead attorney for the plaintiffs, “Our clients have extensive resources, long memories, and — frankly — plenty of time to pursue this case.”
“Besides,” said Vanderwood, “I find it completely impossible to say ‘no’ to them.”
The Case
According to spokesperson Lisa “The Hammer” Nelson, a local grandmother and well-known hardcore cyclist who could basically kick your trash from here to Albuquerque, “We, the grandmothers of the world, are sick to death of the lowest gear on bicycles being called ‘the granny gear.’ We find the stereotype insulting, not to mention inaccurate.”
Continued the grandmother to one, “You think I got my nickname by using the small ring? Join me for a quick hundred-mile ride sometime, road or dirt. Flats or mountains. We’ll see who goes to the small ring first.”
Then, noting the averted eyes and apologetic mumbling of the assembled press corp, Nelson said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Come here and let me give you a hug.”
A grandmother protesting the usage of the term “granny gear,” as well as the general boniness of many cyclists.
Kellene Mortensen, grandmother and multiple-time finisher of the weeklong “Ride the Rockies” ride, famous for its grueling multi-mountain-pass stages, added, “I usually ride with women my age because the men can’t keep up. How about calling it the ‘grandpa gear?’”
Alternate Names Considered
Gary Holcombe, assistant attorney on the case, said that in addition to damages, the lawsuit against all agencies, companies and cyclists who have used — and especially those who continue to use — the term “granny gear,” will henceforth be required to use one of the following alternate terms:
- Easy gear
- Old man gear
- Gear formerly known as granny
“Or,” said Grandma Hammer, “you could give it an adorable pet name, like ‘The Fatty Gear.’”
Cycling Industry Responds
Cycling industry representatives were uncharacteristically available and willing to respond to this suit. “Let me be the first to apologize,” said Chuck Ibis. “I would never intentionally hurt a grandma’s feelings. I’ll never do it again, Grandma.”
“Also,” continued Ibis, “I really like those socks you knitted me for Christmas, and I wear them every single day.”
Added beloved and award-winning cycling blogger Elden ‘Fatty’ Nelson, “My mom’s a grandma like a million times over at this point. I would never hurt her feelings. Sorry, mom. I’ll never call say ‘granny gear’ again.”
“Oh,” continued Fatty, “And also The Hammer’s a grandma. Holy smokes, that cracks me up every time I say it.”
Fatty then began laughing convulsively for approximately ninety seconds, then tried his darnedest to put on a sober face and said, “Sorry, Lisa.”
Laird Knight, owner of the endurance race promotion company formerly known as “Granny Gear Productions,” best known for its 24 Hours of Moab event, likewise issued an apology. “For years, our signature race has been in decline. It has recently come to light that this is quite likely due to grandmothers across the United States offering oblique statements of disapproval of our name, saying things like, ‘Oh, are you really sure that doing that race is such a good idea?’”
“To all grandmothers, I offer my sincere apologies and the assurance that neither I nor anyone in my employ shall ever use the term ‘granny gear’ ever again. Now please, tell your grandkids it’s OK to come race again. I’m begging here.”
Upon hearing the virtual stampede of cycling luminaries falling over themselves to apologize and reingratiate themselves with their grandmothers, Margaret Abernathy, a grandmother and track cyclist from Ohio, responded on behalf of other grandmothers. “Oh, it’s fine, really,” said Abernathy. “Don’t make such a fuss.”
Concluded Abernathy, “Why don’t you all come over this weekend? I made applesauce.”
Comments (37)
01.6.2012 | 4:00 am
Welcome to Part II of How to Patch a Tube (Part I is here). I am sure that you are as thrilled — and surprised — as I am to discover that this topic requires multiple entries.
In part I of How to Patch a Tube, you learned everything leading up to how to patch tubes, but not how to patch the tube itself. Which makes Part I quite possibly the longest-winded intro I have ever written, in the nearly-seven-year history of a blog known for extraordinarily long-winded, self-indulgent introductions.
But I promise, in today’s post you will learn everything you need to know (and much much more!) in order to patch a tube.
Step 3: Find the Leak
It’s time to put on your detective hat, because you need to find where the hole in the tube is. Now, the best way to do that is to pump the tube full of air and then submerge it in still water, watching for bubbles.
Because of this, it is very important that you always ride your bike near a large body of water. Or carry enough water and a large enough container to submerge a bike tube in.
If necessary, you may also demand other riders in the group give you their water.
Unfortunately, water can sometimes be scarce, due to some riders inconsiderately and shortsightedly drinking it.
That’s why, as a backup, when riding you should always carry a small container — no more than a quart will be necessary — full of dishwashing liquid. Simply pump the tube up, then quickly smear some dishwashing liquid on the part of the tube you think may be the culprit. If it is in fact the part of the tube that has a hole in it, the dishwashing soap will begin to bubble.
More likely, though, you will have been wrong, so it’s a good thing you brought plenty of that dishwashing liquid. Smear some more on another part of the tube. Then wait. Breathlessly. Watch the tube with fierce concentration, looking for any sign of bubbles.
Nope, that part of the tube seems fine too.
Well, obviously you’re never going to find the hole by smearing soap over a tiny bit at a time like this, so now’s a good time to pump the tube up full of air again, then go ahead and smear soap over the whole darn thing.
You should now find bubbles appearing at some point on the tube. Or, more likely, at between six and eleven points on the tube.
Go ahead and deflate the tube now that you’ve discovered where the hole (or holes) is (or are).
Now go get about six gallons of water to rinse all that soap off the tube. So hopefully you brought both a lot of water and dish soap.
Now go ahead and re-inflate and soap the darn tube, because you’ve almost certainly lost track of where the hole (holes) is (are).
This time, mark where the holes (even if there appeared to be only one hole at the beginning of this project, there is certainly a new hole by now).
Step 4: Repair the Leak
Congratulations, you’re now past the discovery period and are ready to apply the patches. Luckily for you, patch kits have advanced tremendously in the past few years, and are now extremely simple to apply, effective at sealing punctures, and reliable at keeping them sealed.
Just kidding.
Patch kits are actually exactly the same as they were when you had to fix a flat in order to get some kind of cub scout / brownie scout merit badge thirty years ago. In fact, patch kits are interesting primarily because they represent the single thing in the whole world that has not changed or advanced — in spite of huge advancments in both adhesive and material technologies — in the past eighty years. I mean, firewood has had more technological advancements than bike tube patch kits.
But hey, if it works, don’t fix it. Right?
So first, rough up the area around the hole, using the tiny little cheese grater that comes with the patch kit. I’m not sure why you’re supposed to do this, but you are. Be enthusiastic about your roughing, but not so enthusiastic that your rough your way clean through the tube.
Now, clean the area you’ll be applying the patch to. This shouldn’t too big of a problem, since you recently applied so much dishwashing liquid to the tube that it should be ready for the operating room.
Next, apply a small amount — you’re on your own for deciding what “small amount” means — of the patch glue to the tube. Keep some in reserve for sniffing later; you’re going to want something to help even your mood out.
Oh, sorry. As it turns out, that tube of rubber cement that came with the patch kit has been all dried out since 1968. Sorry! Well, I’m sure it wasn’t really very necessary anyway. Let’s continue as if everything’s going juuuuussst fine.
Or if, by some miracle, your patch glue isn’t all dried out in the first place, let the glue on the tube dry slightly, for just a minute. So it’s nice and tacky. The time window of rubber cement tackiness between “too wet” and “too dry” lasts approximately one-quarter second, so be ready with that patch.
Peel the backing off the patch. Hopefully, you have had the foresight to have grown long, bladelike fingernails during the past several months, or there is no way in God’s green earth that you are going to be able to peel that backing off.
Press and hold the patch in place firmly until you are sure it is set — approximately seven hours.
Congratulations, you’ve patched the tube! Now you need to get it back on the wheel.
Step 5: Put the Tube Back on the Wheel
It’s very easy to get the tube back onto the rim. Just stuff the sucker back in there. Although you’ll probably have better results if you take the trouble to at least push the valve stem through the hole in the rim.
What’s tricky is getting the tire bead back on the rim. Especially on mountain bikes. But with some patience, you can do it. Just carefully ease the bead onto the rim, working your way carefully around the circumference of the wheel.
After you’ve been around the wheel about five times, you’ll realize that as you put one part of the bead on the rim, another part is coming off. Maybe if you chase it faster, you’ll catch it.
Nope, I guess not.
So instead, use the tire lever to force the bead onto the rim, holding the part you’ve already got on the rim in place with your hand. If you do everything correctly, as you get to the end there should be just a little piece of tube poking out between the rim and the tire bead, with no easy way to get it into the tire. Push it in with a screwdriver or something. Then, with all your might, lever the final tiny bit of the bead over the lip of the rim.
You’ve done it!
Now pump up the tire and put the wheel back on the bike; you’re ready to go!
Ha ha! Just kidding! Still! Because of course the tire won’t hold air.
Step 6: Fix the Patch
You now need to take the tire off the rim again and pull out the tube. Then fish around in the tire until you find the patch, which will have peeled off the tube. Get another patch and repeat Steps 4 and 5. Again. Because they will certainly go better this time, now that you’ve had practice.
Try inflating the tire again. It won’t. Take the tube out again. That’s weird; the patch seems to have held this time. Better get out the soap and look for new problems.
Yep, there it is: the new hole from when you pinched the tube between the rim and the tire. You’re going to need a couple of patches to fix that.
Step 7: Fix the Problem
Finally, you’ve done it! You’ve patched the old holes, as well as the new holes! You’re all set to ride again! Huzzah!
You should be able to ride for roughly two minutes before your tire goes flat again. Repeat all steps, except this time be confused when you discover a brand new hole in the tube.
Oh. Waitasec. Maybe it would have been a good idea to feel along the inside of the tire, to see if there’s something sharp stuck in there.
After rubbing your fingers along in the tube for a minute or two, you should discover the sharp thorn / piece of glass / rattlesnake fang protruding through the tire. The thing that caused the flat in the first place. And by “discover,” I of course mean, “discover by the means of that sharp object puncturing and lodging itself in your thumb.
Now you just need to work that out of the tire, which should be no problem if you happened to bring a set of extra-pointy needle-nose pliers as part of your tube-repair kit. Otherwise, you’re going to get to discover exactly what the inside of a tire tastes like as you try to bite and pull the offending sharp object out using your front teeth.
Then, go through Steps 4 – 6 as many times as necessary. Which, I regret to inform you, is probably more times than you have patches
Then get a new tube out and use that instead.
Comments (41)
01.5.2012 | 5:15 am
As you are no doubt aware, bikes are cool. Through some weird magic some like to call “physics,” bikes can make you go faster than you otherwise could go, while expending less energy than you otherwise would expend. Meanwhile, you’re having fun while exercising, which is even more magical than the whole further-faster-easier mindbender.
And bikes look great, too. Especially my bikes.
The thing is, though, bikes are not perfect. I mean, consider the number of moving parts. No, on second thought, don’t consider the number of moving parts, because the number is far to great. Especially when you consider the number of moving parts in a bike chain alone. We’re talking about ten moving parts per inch.
The mind boggles.
There are cables and derailleurs and spokes. And hubs. And pedals. And handlebars. and shifters and brakes.
Oh my.
But really, you shouldn’t worry about any of those things. Why? Because if any of those things break in the middle of the ride, nobody really expects you to be able to fix them and then continue on your way. (Except maybe the chain, and even that’s a kinda-sorta thing).
But if you get a flat tire during your ride, the folks you are riding with are going to expect you to repair the flat and continue on.
Luckily for you, I am an expert not only at riding bicycles, but at repairing them as well. So today, I shall teach you how to patch a bike tire.
Step 0: Get the Futile Attempt Out of the Way First
Of course, before you try to patch a tube, you should try to pump it back up. Just to see if that leak is a one-time thing. Because hey, why wouldn’t it be? Maybe the tube was just playing a little prank there for a few moments, and now it’s going to reliably hold air.
It could happen.
Step 0.5: Look Around Hopefully
Once you have verified that the flat you’ve got is in fact not one of those rare-but-awesome self-healing ones, you’re all set to begin the work of repairing your tube.
Unless, of course, you can get someone else to do it for you.
Now, most people won’t automatically volunteer to fix a flat for you; as it turns out, most people are every bit as incompetent as you. However, if you fumble around long enough and badly enough, there’s an excellent chance someone you’re riding with will get so exasperated that they will finally offer to fix your flat for you.
In order to make this happen, the first thing you should do is ask to borrow a wrench (unless you have a bike that requires a wrench to remove the wheel, in which case ask for a handsaw). Be as unspecific about which kind of wrench as possible. When asked why you would want a wrench, say, “So I can remove the saddle, so it won’t get dirty when I turn the bike upside down.”
Then say, “I think I’m going to need a chain breaker, too.”
Finally, shrug your shoulders and confess, “Honestly, guys, I’ve never done this before. In fact, I’m a little bit shocked to learn that these tires are full of air. I always imagined they were solid rubber or something.”
I would put your chances at someone pushing you aside and getting to work at approximately 84%. Which is pretty good odds, really.
Step 1: Remove the Wheel
OK, suppose the “get someone else to do it” gambit didn’t work, either because you’re a poor actor, or you’re riding alone. For whatever reason, you’re going to have to patch the tube yourself.
There is nothing quite so disheartening when one is riding a bicycle as the discovery of a flat tire. Actually, that’s not entirely correct. It’s even more disheartening to discover one’s femur poking out throught one’s skin.
But a flat tire is still pretty darn bad.
So, after coasting to a stop — it’s very important to not try to change the tire until you have come to a complete stop — you need to remove the tire from the wheel.
Which means you first must remove the wheel from the bike. And don’t go thinking you can skip this step, because you’ll look foolish if you do. Trust me, I know.
If it’s the front tire that’s gone flat, you’re in luck. Well, not really in luck, because if you were really in luck you wouldn’t have gotten a flat in the first place. But you’re at least not in as bad of luck as if you had gotten a flat tire in the back. A flat in the back adds a whole extra layer of suck frosting to the cake of suck that you’re already going to have to eat.
So anyway, if it’s a front flat, you just pull down the quick release lever, and pop the wheel off.
But if it’s a rear flat, well, you may first want to shift all the way to the smallest ring on your cassette — this will make things easier when (and, let’s face it, if) you eventually get the repaired wheel back on the bike. Then drop the chain off the front chainring, to give you a little extra play with the chain.
Now loosen the quick release (if you’re using bolts instead of quick releases, well, you’re on your own), pull back the rear derailleur, and pull the rear wheel out of the labyrinthine mess that is your bike chain path.
Now take a good look at the path of the chain and take a moment to consider the fact that you aren’t really exactly sure where in that tangle of metal you’re supposed to put the wheel back when (if) you get the flat fixed.
Oh well, nothing you can do about it now. May as well get to removing the tire.
Step 2: Remove the Tire
Congratulations, you’ve made it to the easiest part of the process: removing the tire and tube. Here, just insert a tire lever between the rim and the tire, then force it under the bead of the tire. Kind of like you would with a coat hanger between a car door sill and window when you lock your keys in the car. For really old cars I mean.
Once you’ve got the lever under the tire bead, pry it up and over the rim. Then run the lever around the circumference of the rim, easily bringing the bead of the tire off the rim.
Now grasp the tube — because it suits our purposes to pretend that everyone still uses tires with tubes, even though that’s a really terrible idea — and pull it off the wheel.
There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? And the good news is that actually getting that tire bead back onto the rim is only 10,000,000,000.9 times more difficult.
And you will learn how to do that (and much much more!) in Part II of How to Patch a Tube.
Comments (39)
01.3.2012 | 10:40 am
Let it be known: there is such a thing as feeling too good. I have proof, which I shall present, in the form of an anecdote.
This anecdote is true, by the way.
It’s been such a strange December here in Utah — the driest on record, according to the weatherman. This means that at least the low trails in the mountain bike parks close to home are dry. Or on the cold days, even the higher ones are frozen. And in either case, there’s often no snow whatsoever on the trail.
Which means this has been the most mountain bikey December on record. As in, I’m getting out three or four times per week.
So, last Saturday afternoon — New Year’s Eve, for crying out loud — The Hammer and I headed out to Lambert Park for a couple hours on the trails.
And it was wonderful, for any number of reasons, including (but not limited to) the following:
- It was so warm outside that tights, a long-sleeve jersey, and some midweight gloves were all you needed to ride comfortably. This meant my biggest grievance with winter riding — that you feel all insulated, isolated, and constricted — wasn’t much of a factor.
- The trails were amazing. They had been wet earlier in the week, but — and this is so freaky — they had actually dried out during the week, and were now nice and tacky.
- I was loving my new bike. I know I ‘m a total bike magpie (i.e., easily distracted by the newest shiny object), but the Specialized Stumpjumper Carbon 29 Singlespeed I’ve built up and have been riding lately is such an incredibly great bike. It is so light. So fast. So — and I’m kind of reaching for a word to describe what I’m feeling here, so bear with me — communicative. (Note to SS guys: 34×19. Note to weight weenies: 17.2lbs. Note to people who like to know specs: click the photo to see a larger version and you should be able to tell what everything is.)
So The Hammer and I are riding in Lambert Park. The only deadline we have is darkness, since we’ve already got the New Year’s festivities with the kids planned (dinner, homemade doughnuts, Guesstures).
So with time on our hands and a beautiful day to ride, we’re playing the game we usually do when we ride Lambert: Design the Ride. Over the course of this past few weeks, we’ve made a point of understanding the snarl of trails in this park, and can now make up and call out the next part of the ride he or she wants to do, like a square dance caller.
“Wildcat to corkscrew to Zig to ZPC to Poppy to Ruin to Luge to Spring to Rodeo!”
“Rodeo up to Middle Spring to Spring to River!”
“River to Zag to Indian to Brown Dog to Corkscrew to Zig!”
We were — and I’m reiterating here for the sake of emphasis — having a great time. Not training, not trying to get in a certain number of miles or hours or intensity or anything.
We were having fun. And I was feeling good.
Too good.
Brakes Work Best When You Use Them
So the light’s gone a little flat and we figure it’s time to head back home. We’re at the top of Zig, named so because of the fun way it has been constructed, taking advantage of the ravines and contours in the park — banking and swooping in the high desert singletrack.
I’m out front, because I like descending faster than The Hammer does.
I come to a banked sweeping corner. Usually I put a little bit of brake on for it, but I usually don’t feel quite so on-top-of-the-world. At this moment, I am absolutely positively sure that without braking at all I will successfully fly through this corner.
I am wrong.
About halfway through the sweeping left corner, my front wheel washes out right. I go down on my left side, at full speed, still clipped in, bumping and sliding in the dirt, brush, and rocks.
Eventually, I slide to a stop.
I begin yelling.
Now, I should note that my post-crash yelling is somewhat famous, thanks in equal parts to the volume, intensity and duration of this yell. It has even been given a name: “The Elden Scream.” I would suggest, however, that this yell (please, let’s not call it a scream) serves a number of valuable purposes:
- It is cathartic. Yelling at the top of your lungs when you’re hurt helps you feel better. Really. Try it the next time you get a sliver or break a leg or something.
- It is expressive of how I feel about the situation.
- It alerts others to my situation and the likelihood that I am going to need someone to call an ambulance or LifeFlight or a shaman or something. And also that I am lying in the middle of the trail and that I would really appreciate it if anyone behind me would please slow down and also not run me over, thanks.
So while I was yelling (i.e., not screaming) in this case somewhat for reasons #1 and #2, I was really yelling mostly for reason #3: I didn’t want The Hammer to run me over.
At least that’s what I choose to claim.
As it turns out, that needn’t have been a concern, because I had come to rest (though I hardly found my state restful) to the side of the trail.
Tangled up with my bike. On my back, staring at the sky. My head pointing downhill, my bike uphill from me.
Still clipped in.
So, yes, I was yelling. But let us put that aside for a moment. Because quite apart from my visceral shouting (not screaming), There was a monologue going through my mind.
I shall now share it with you.
“I should get up. When The Hammer gets here, it would be better if I were standing up.”
“Nope, I can’t stand up. I can’t sit up, either. In fact, I can’t even unclip. How weird is it that a seventeen pound bike can so effectively pin me to the ground like this.”
“You know what would be an awesome, money-making invention? If there were some way to have a camera always rolling about three feet above an to the side of you, so you could see exactly what caused your crashes, and whether crashes look as spectacular as you hope they do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen video of me having a really good crash.”
“How come The Hammer isn’t here yet? Am I still screaming yelling? I am? OK.”
“Where do I hurt, anyway? Right thumb, left hip. Those are the biggies. Back hurts a little, too. Left butt cheek feels like it’s pretty scraped up. I’ve had worse crashes.”
“How come, if I went down on my left side, it’s my right thumb that hurts? It seems like with every crash, there’s at least one injury that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why did I think I could take this corner without braking? That was totally stupid.”
“I’m staring at the sky, so I’m on my back. But what direction is my body facing? Oh, I can see up the trail. So I spun 180 degrees when I landed.”
“Maybe I should try to get free of the bike. No, The Hammer will get here in a second. Wow, I really wish The Hammer would get here and get this bike off me. “
“Oh good. There she is. I should probably try to stop yelling now.”
All of this happens in the space of probably five seconds, after which The Hammer discovered me, and asks, as she untangles me from the bike, “How come you’re facing backwards?”
“I think I kept spinning after I landed,” I replied, no longer yelling.
“OK,” The Hammer replies. “You’ve got quite a pair of lungs, by the way. I’ve never heard such loud screaming.”
Comments (50)
12.27.2011 | 8:46 am
This is my last post for the year. I’m going to leave it up for a week or so, because it’s got a nice piece of news and a very interesting question.
Let’s start with the question.
Imagine a World…
I woke up last night with the strangest question running through my mind. I don’t remember whether the question came from a dream — I don’t remember having a dream.
But if that question did come from a dream, what a nightmare.
Anyway, here’s the question:
How would your life be different if there were no such thing as bicycles?
Take a minute to think about this question, then answer in the comments section. And no sneakily trying to worm your way around the substance of the question by answering something like, “I’d invent the bicycle.”
Also, no ridiculous drama, like, “I’d kill myself.” Because you wouldn’t. Just like you haven’t killed yourself over the lack of other amazing, life-improving things that somehow haven’t been invented (I’m looking at the empty space you should be occupying, metabolism-increasing pill).
So, just think about the question and consider what a universe without bicycles would mean to you personally.
I’ll look forward to reading your answer (and later in the day, I’ll post one of my own).
Comedian Mastermind: Post-Christmas / End-of-Year Sale
Maybe you were hoping to get a copy of my book, Comedian Mastermind: The Best of FatCyclist.com, for Christmas. Or maybe it just seemed too expensive. Or maybe you were waiting for some other reason.
In any case, there are literally billions of people on this earth who have not yet purchased a copy of my book. And that just breaks my heart.
So, for those of you who are on the fence, in spite of the (surprisingly?) good reviews and feedback this book has received, I’m having a sale on this book ’til the end of the year, both for the Kindle and paperback version:
Why am I doing this? Well, for a few reasons.
- I’m experimenting. Honestly, I don’t know much about publishing, price points, sales, and stuff like that. I’m trying different things and learning as I go. Hopefully, some things will work out well; I’ll do those things again.
- I want to sell a lot of books. For the past few days, the Kindle version of my book has been the top-selling Cycling e-book at Amazon.com. I’ve done a screenshot to prove it and everything:
That is pretty awesome (especially considering the other books in the list). However, in the overall Cycling Top-10 list (not just e-books), I haven’t been able to quite make it to the top:
Yeah, I guess that’s what I get for helping promote Dr. Lim’s book, eh? Anyway, I’d like to see my book in the number 1 spot on both lists, just so I can make that claim. So, if you’ve been thinking of getting a copy of my book and just haven’t pulled the trigger, now would be a great time to do it.
- I think you’ll like it. Seriously, I’m really proud of this book, and I’m excited at how much people who have read it like it. And I have a hunch that if I give you a good deal on this book, then you buy it and read it, you’ll tell a couple friends, and maybe they’ll buy copies too.
And then I’ll be one step further along in my big plan. And you’ll have helped me get there.
So thanks. Now go buy either the Kindle or Paperback version of my book. Now.
PS: Just in case you don’t come back before next week: Happy New Year! And thanks for being a part of this blog.
PPS: At least for an hour, early on Wednesday, December 28, Comedian Mastermind was at the top.
Comments (104)
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