The gift of shit, in relation to bikes and friends, can take on many, many forms. There's shit-giving about one's bike, which can be applied in either direction: "Too bad you're riding that shit pile of a bike, Bob. Something better and you might be able to keep up today " Or, "Y'know, Bob, all that money you spent on that fancy new bike isn't going to make you any faster or more coordinated. You are still a clumsy fatass " This very same approach can be easily applied to all material and physical aspects-clothing, haircuts, shaving, dietary habits with equal effectiveness. However... note that in this instance the giving of shit is applied condescendingly. This is crucial. It is impossible to give shit ascendingly. If someone just tromped you into the dust on a ride, while wearing cutoff surplus camo and riding a Free Spirit road bike w;'h the drop bars ghetto-rolled upward, you cannot give that person shit. But, that person can give you shit, and lots of it. Yes indeedy. This, the order of condescension, could possibly be the first rule of shit-giving. Shit flows downhill, as they like to say at the sewage pumping station. However, the order of condescension is just one step in a long and complex dookie chain. For instance, I can handle my friend and former co-worker Mike Cushionbury calling me a pile of fat squeezed into ugly Lycra because he is a much faster rider than I, the order of condescension is in effect.

I. in turn, can exercise several options to maintain the flow of shit (so to speak). I can change the nature of the Shit Gift, and make fun of the way he runs because of some bone defonnity in his right leg, or I can tease him about his hair, which always pisses him off. This proves that the Shit Gift can be cyclical in nature. Or, should I choose to, I can reapply the order of condescension and give someone else further down my personal totem pole some shit about their riding ability or body weight. They, in turn, could lash back at me (cyclical), or find someone else below them to shit on (condescension), thus maintaining the velocity of the Shit Gift. There is no end to the potential distance and nature of the Shit Gift once it starts to flow. Hence the "neverending" tag line applied at the top of the column. This brings us to another very important rule regarding the gift of shit. The inevitable cumulative effect. When the ever present velocity of shit (which is naturally governed by how much of it you personally choose to dish out) is coupled with the naturally cyclical nature of the gift, almost-violent eddies and backflushes sometimes occur at some way, it really is proof of that bond. The source of anyone river of the stuff. Sometimes it can be immediate, where what at first appears to be a fine piece of shit-giving backfires right away when the victim retaliates by going straight for your jugular in front of a large crowd. (Say, for example, you good-heartedly make a jab about which point one has to try very hard to your teammate's climbing inability on a particular race day, and he, in turn, runs up and pulls your pants down around your ankles just as you are holding your arms aloft on the podium-an excellent tactical retaliation, I might add. )

And sometimes, it can take years. A fine Shit Gift is not often forgotten, and can fester forever in someone's psyche, while spurring a myriad of little Shit Gifts in its wake.  Ultimately, the order of condescension gets tangled up with the cyclical nature of things, and inevitably the stinking crows of karma come home to roost, right back where the gift was originally squeezed out. The potential scenarios for this defy description, but the main danger here lies in the increase of magnitude that the repercussive Shit Gift can accrue in comparison to the size of the original gift. A ball bearing dropped into a seat-tube can morph years later into a very convincing imitation of an IRS audit, at which point one has to try very hard to remember that these bastards turning your hair gray really are your friends. Really. Friends whose necks would feel good with your hands wrapped firmly around them about now. Breathe.....The Neverending Shit Gift. It's what friends do. Go show your friends how much you love them today.

By Mike Ferrentino - From an article in Bike Magazine