[ Frequently Asked Questions for Zero Per Gallon (ZPG) ]
Q: What’s with the goats?
A: I hate them.
Q: Can you be friends with people who have goats?
A: Nope. I mean, can you be partly vegetarian? Or just a little bit celibate? When it comes to goats, there’s no room for moral lassitude. My life is goatless, and I like it that way. The evidence shows that the world would be better without goats.
Q: What evidence? Why would the world be better off?
A: Goats embody evil. They need to be stopped.
Q: What if you were throwing a costume party, and one of your friends dressed up like a goat?
A: Fake goats are fine. Real goats are the problem. Some would say our biggest problem. But really, what friend of mine would dress up like a goat? That’s a risky move amigo.
Q: What would you do if someone sent you goat photos or drawings?
A: I’d make an example out of that person on my blog, then incinerate the offensive documents.
Q: How about this: what if a goat ordered some ZPG stickers and patches?
A: No dice. I screen my buyers very strictly, and only sell ZPG products to humans and bicycles. Besides, goats are so stupid they can’t even use the internet.
Q: What if someone, say, at a crazy petting zoo, like, um, taught a goat how to ride a bike, you know, like for the circus or whatever, and wanted to get a ZPG sticker – what then?
A: Nope, sorry. 100% goatless means absolutely no goats. Hats off to that petting zoo trainer, though, for smacking some sense into that dumbass goat. Teaching a goat how to ride a bike is like teaching a rock how to microwave a pizza.
Q: Do you think the goats of the world are, as we speak, creating some sort of counter-attack strategy? Like, do you think they’re discussing the idea of being 100% Jonny5less?
A: No way. Goats are notoriously bad at critical thinking.
Q: Did you ever experience any sort of traumatic emotional event involving a goat?
A: No comment.
Q: How long have you hated goats?
A: Since middle school. That’s when I got into politics. I served for a few weeks as the JAAMCMRLLLSMAFF (Junior Assistant Associate Manager of the Committee to Make Recess Less Lame and Less Short and More Awesome and Fun-Filled), and then I started thinking, goats or no goats? I sensed danger lurking, you know? So I founded FGCA (Future Goatless Crusaders of America). It’s been a wild ride since then.
Q: So do you eat goat cheese?
A: Sure, as long as it’s not coming straight out of a live goat.
Q: What about llamas?
A: What do you mean, what about llamas? Llamas are fine. I have a friend who grew up on a llama farm. Her llamas are awesome and she’s awesome.
Q: So what’s so bad about goats?
A: I hate them, and they need to be stopped. Next question.
Q: Do you have a policy on returns/exchanges of ZPG products?
A: Of course – I have a policy on everything! As is written on page 187 of the ZPG manual, I guarantee all ZPG products to be 100% goatless, or your money back.
Q: How do you guarantee that your products are goatless?
A: Via a thorough screening process that I call Look In The Fucking Envelope To Make Sure No Goats Snuck In There While I Was Busy Checking Out Crazy Shit On The Internet.
Q: Sounds robust and foolproof.
A: It is.
Q: Has the system ever failed?
A: Nope. I’m batting 1000 over here.
Q: Will I instantly be more cool if I purchase a ZPG sticker or patch?
A: Yes, absolutely. You’ll be a bicycle rockstar.
Q: What do you mean, a bicycle rockstar?
A: Are you kidding? Until recently, riding a bike was dorky. People would laugh at you. Now it’s hip and trendy. Biking is making a comeback. Besides, driving everywhere is just idiotic, and people are tired of it. Show some friggin pride – it’s the velorution.
Q: If my name is George Saunders, and I ride a bike, can I have a free sticker?
A: Fuck yeah. If your name is George Saunders, I’ve read all of your books and stories, and you’re one funny dude.
Q: What if my name is George Saunders, and I ride a bike, but I also own a few goats?
A: For you, George, I’ll make an exception.
Q: I’ve noticed that Mike’s Bikes, of San Francisco, has a logo similar to yours — are you two affiliated?
A: Absolutely not. I came up with the $0.00 slogan first, and they stole it. Bastards.
Q: Why don’t you trademark the $0.00 thing?
A: I can’t. It’s just a number. I mean, come on, you can’t trademark, like, the number 7. Good idea, though – I’d be a rich man if I had all the rights to the number 7.
Q: Who designed your website?
A: Evander Skowlifield created the original design. I have modified it.
Q: Modified it?
A: Yeah, I invented a new font specifically for the site, called Sans Goat. The kerning is slightly tighter than in other typefaces. That way, no goats can squeeze between the letters.
Q: OK, I wanna know about you. You were born in a blizzard…
A: Yeah, it was fucking snowy.
Q: Are you related to Jonny5, the robot, from Short Circuit?
A: You could say he’s a father figure, sure. Or maybe an inspiration. But come on — just because I listen to Duran Duran doesn’t mean I’m still living in the 80’s.
Q: You were the youngest person ever to win the WVC (World Velcro Championships) — why’d you give it up? What happened?
A: I wanted to retire at the peak of my game. This was back in 1985, when I was 7 years old. Once I made up my mind, I was like, fuck velcro. I burned every last velcro product I had, then went out and bought a pair of red lace-up Converse All-Stars. I gave up velcro cold turkey — haven’t touched it since.
Q: You’re such a talented wordsmith — where’d that come from?
A: I went to a Spanish-immersion school, and had great teachers. By age 6, I had mastered the basic curse words shit, fuck, bitch, and ass; by age 7 I had mastered pinche, chinga, mierda, pendejo, and puta. With that foundation, the rest came naturally.
Q: What’s with all the Mcsweeney’s pieces reposted on your blog?
A: What can I say? I heart Mcsweeney’s. The guys there are great writers. Their pirate supply store in SF, and superhero supply store in NYC are also some funny shit.
Q: What ever happened to Awesome the cat? Is he, notwithstanding his emasculation, doing OK?
A: Awesome is doing awesomely. He’s still roaming around the same ‘hood in DC, under the occasional care of my fantastic former neighbors. Last time I caught up with Awesome, in November, he had caught a few mice and grown some pretty sweet cat dreadlocks. He’s totally rockin’ out in the cat world.
Q: Do you own a car?
A: Nope. I ride my bike everywhere — to work every day, to parties, to the supermarket, to yoga. Just kidding. I don’t do yoga. I did own a car until recently, though. I bought it in Colorado in 2004 for $1. The car’s name was Buck. Buck had a shit-ton of miles on him, and slowly disintegrated as I drove him. He and I only went places on weekends. When I sold him, he had a cracked windshield, windows that didn’t roll down, a door that didn’t open from the inside, a broken heating system, a dysfunctional clock, a clunky speedometer, and no front blinkers. I spent more money on bikes in 2005 than I did on my car.
Q: Have you ever been hit by a car?
A: Yep, thrice.
*Incident #1: In Cambridge, MA, back in 2001, I was riding home from work, and had stopped at a red light when a poor old woman just barely nudged me over from my left side. She was pulling out of a driveway. She looked left, then right, and then took her foot off the brake, and idled into me really really slowly. It was actually pathetic how slow she was going — maybe 1mph. I banged on her hood as she slowly knocked me over. The result: only my pedals got fucked up, and she reimbursed me for a new pair. Everything else was OK.
*Incident #2: In Cambridge, MA, that same year, a dude blew through a stop sign on my right on his way out of a movie theater, and T-boned me with the front of his car. He was probably going 15 or 20mph. I remember the first thing I noticed as I fishboned and skidded to a stop: an awful sound of metal grating against pavement. It happened so fast that I wasn’t sure what was wrong; I knew I’d been hit hard, and figured I was probably injured, but mostly it sounded like my trusty Trek had either split in two or maybe just exploded into pieces. When I stopped (I didn’t even fall over), I looked back, and saw that the guy’s front license plate was in the road — he had hit my back wheel square on with the front of his car, and that’s what had been making the noise. Of course, while I was processing all of this, I was screaming obscenities at him, and nearly threw my bike into his windshield. That asshole. He apologized, then handed me a $20 and offered me a ride home. Amazing, the only damage was a flat tire and a bent rear wheel. He reimbursed me for the damage, and a few months later I rode that bike across the country.
*Incident #3: In Washington, DC, last winter, I was riding to work down 23rd, and had just entered Washington Circle. An idiotic driver with Virginia plates merged into the circle from K St., and cut right in front of me, then came to a complete stop in the middle of the intersection. I considered swerving left or right into other lanes of traffic, but didn’t want to risk it, since I didn’t know what other cars were coming up. So I kept my hands on the bars and slammed square on, right into her bumper, literally kissing her trunk in the process. I suffered a bloody lip, and a damaged ego, and bent the frame of my beautiful Gios, named Iago. RIP, Iago.
Q: Have you ever been hit by a goat?
A: No comment.
Q: Do you have a real job?
A: What, is ZPG not real enough for you? Whatever. I work at an awesome non-profit in Sausalito, CA.
Q: Are you a single guy?
A: Yup. I’m an eligible bachelor.
Q: Oh really? Describe yourself…
A: 6′ tall. Green eyes. Brown hair. Scruffy. Athletic. Tattoo-less. Piercing-less. Goatless. Well-read. Well-traveled. Outdoorsy. Adventurous. Elitist. Hipster.
Q: You ride a fixed-gear, don’t you?
A: Did you not see the words “elitist” and “hipster?” I also ride a regular road bike, and often sport the associated lycra acoutrements. Hot, no?
Q: Is there any chance that you’re the descendant of goatherders? You know, centuries ago, back in the European hinterland, a lot of folks herded goats.
A: Not a chance. Science has proven that a goatless disposition is genetic. If my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents had had the internet back then, you bet they too would have been spouting off about being 100% goatless. It’s just one of those family traits.
Q: Have you ever heard of a snurge?
A: Yeah, I looked it up at work one day. A snurge is someone who gets off smelling bike seats.
Q: That’s nasty.
A: Yeah, I know. The internet is great, isn’t it?