Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen!

Lance Armstrong, Real American: as Postal/Discovery riders keep ratting out Lance Armstrong left and right for (1) doing drugs and/or (2) encouraging drug use amongst his lab-monkey teammates, it's refreshing to know that Lance is playing clean in response: he's having his legal team denounce the federal investigation into his activities an "un-American" sham. Why? Because the easiest way shut down any sort of reasoned discourse in this great country is to suggest that you're a Che Guevara-lovin' Fidel Castro-uniform-wearin' democracy-dissin' wine-sniffin' beer-hatin' ivory-tower-elitist Prius-drivin' socialist atheist COMMIE! In fact, ya probably eat "FRENCH" FRIES! and HATE YER MAMA AND APPLE PIE! and DON'T WEAR AMERICAN FLAG PINS! and SERVE SOME WUSSY EFFETE "BRIE" CRAP INSTEAD OF KRAFT AMERICAN SINGLES at barbecues! Keep takin' the high road, Lance--I'm so proud!

Look, Up in the Sky--Is That Pigs Flying?: yes folks, the darn-near unthinkable has happened: the scumwadly enabler-hypocrites at UCI, so dedicated to stamping out doping they've never bothered a top rider they liked, turn out to have been--oh my word--*ignoring* five other cyclists whose bio-passport blood levels suggest they've been taking more !@#$ in a single season than Valverde Ricco' Landis Kohl Ullrich and Ar--um, nobody, have collectively imbibed in a lifetime. Names? Not yet, and probably never will be--but as long as we're nailing a couple of first-year Continental domestiques no-one's ever heard of but their mamas, honey, we morally virtuous bad-!@#es are cleaning this sport *up*!

Aw, *Rats*!: in the worst run of luck ever since, say, Cadel Evans's tried to find a team that can actually help 'im, we sorely miss Tom Boonen, kept out of the Tour and still recovering from knee surgery, is now out of the Vuelta and likely the Worlds as well. Am I the only thinking that, despite the admirable efforts of Tyler Thor and Alessandro, the sprints this season have distinctly been lacking a key element of joie d'vivre? Clearly, this is one case where sober, responsible living and humble rededication to training have absolutely not paid off. Here, a frankly disturbing techno tribute to Tom and his wilder days (you'll note such moving lyrics as "Tommeke, Tommeke...don't !@#$ with me...cocaine, cocaine"): Someone, get this boy a Lamborghini, a troupe of ill-intentioned cocktail-pushing hangers-on and a giant bucket of the white stuff, fast!

Transfer News: yep, cheers indeed from Mark Cavendish as teammate/antagonist Andre "Shit-Race" Greipel signs with Omega Pharma-Lotto, and with Cav even more likely to dope-smack a non-teammate in the press than someone he's actually supposed to fake supporting, I predict a long, wanky, and hugely entertaining series of cowardly press-attacks next season. Or, you could just have your own lead-out man shove a stick into his spokes ten yards from the line. Beats Andre yappin' at your heels all the time, right? Meantime, dog-loyal Samuel Sanchez has, despite lucrative offers from other squads, decided to stay with smashing climbers (and nowadays, even pretty creditable sprinters!)o'-the-gods Euskaltel-Euskadi. Woo-hoo Samu'--and Menchov, watch your scrawny little butt next year!

Lance's Sad New Gig: finally, it's with a mix of joy and pity that I report that Lance Armstrong, with his cycling career over, his reputation in disarray, and his charitable works disrupted by dull and irksome meetings with lawyers, more lawyers, PR hacks, and narcs, has in desperation turned to the only gig remaining for him in this cold, cruel world--rapper:You go, Lan--I mean, Vanilla Ice!