Team B.O.

As plenty Devs and Appliconts knows, it's not easy to get the elusive B.O. status. Not only are the five golden rules near impossible to achieve for a normal human being, the Seniles are stingy in awarding B.O. points. Some just continues to develop and apply but never seemed to get anywhere. Well, not for this Dev Number we don't even know or care, we just know her as Punda's Dev. Anyway, she decided to be aggressive, to be a go getter, and she submitted a race report! Let's have a LOOKie... Dev Some Nommer started by describing where they will be racing the Threesome. "It was a fine bushveld day as the start-that-burns-gingers rose with ferocity over the horizon." she said... Punda: (crap) Oh no you did not... BObbie: (hungry) Burns gingers? If you turn down the ferocity level maybe you won't burn it? Goatie: (stating) LOOK, I might be there, but I am not IN there... BOditor: (trying to make sense of it) LOOK, I think she is describing

As the winter weather fades, as the sun shines warmly on your body and as spring closes... 2785 faithful, loyal and rabid fans: (disapprovingly) BObbie you put that mini pump back in your pocket!!! Yep, them B.O.'s are rubbing their eye lids and crawling out of their caves, slowly but surely. Pops and Chicken being the dedicated ones heads to Sin City for the first race of the season well prepared, except the curse of the BObbie also comes alive when he rolled out of his bed... Pops' dream of a dream start to the season ends with a pop on his brand spanking new ride. Poor Pops walked 30km to the finish, with blisters... Back in Johannesburg, a farm rooster who last week was having a nice trot on a beautiful morning in the Cradle was almost KFC when he barely escaped boiling water after double run down attempted by the Whale and BObbie was seen quietly standing alone in his pen, shivering... It's not so chilly in the morning no more, Lani is caught without wint

Eating is essential, eating is what keeps us cyclists going. AT team B.O. a meal is treated as a celebration of life. It is less of an necessity but more of a sacred vow to honour your body. It's well, damn important if you know what BObbie means... All right, so BObbie's views are not a correct representation of Team B.O., or a normal human being... So on a chilly winter night, somewhere not so luxurious as the famed Sandton and deep in the West where some spike for a brand remains a premium choice, the Goat and the BObbie, two premium eaters of Team B.O., shaken off the muds off their furs and rocked into a house with a sign of a big cock and expected nothing but a shafting. I mean, this place just don't resemble anything of a choice restaurant, you know, none of those fancy lightings, parking attendants, manager at the entrance who refuses entries to guys who dressed like the Goat, patrons who show up in cars you see only on Top Gear and dresses comes off magazine sh