So Does This Mean Lance Isn't Gonna Corner Guys Outside the Toilet Anymore?

Lance Speaks: well, I guess Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton can hit up McDonald's for a Happy Meal in peace from now on without Lance Armstrong screaming they're lying sacks of crap and threatening to shove them face-first into the sizzling fry basket: when it comes to any future investigations into doping, lying, and general scumbaggery, he just ain't gonna challenge 'em anymore, even if it means losing his Tours de France. As a special bonus, we won't have to listen to endless repeat loops of that robotic "I've never been proven to dope" from now on, and more, you can all go !@#$ yourselves, 'cause he doesn't care what you think. Whoa, wait a minute Lance, you mean to suggest you actually *allow* other people around you to think? Too bad for your domestiques you didn't tell 'em that 10 years ago--look what you did to the ones who actually tried it!

Ulle Right Already: in other repentant doper news, Jan Ullrich's thankfully emerging from his post Op Puerto pit o' despair, unlike some sadder counterparts in similar scandals, coming out into the world again actually enjoying his bike and conceding that, well, maybe, he "made some mistakes." Y'know, dope-slap Jan all you want--I certainly have--but I forgive 'im now for crushing my trusting innocent soul, and before I get called on the carpet for being some doper-enabler puppy-kicking devil-sympathizer, *tell* me you liars that you don't prefer his old-school one-lie, retreat-into-silence omerta (or the open screw-you defiance of a Vino) over all that crying whining self-serving bawl-for-the-cameras I'm-so-sorry-(I was busted) jailbird-for-Jeezus bull!@#$ of--uh, certain riders who were welcomed back to the peloton. Either don't do it, or do it, take yer lumps, and shut the hell up--anyway, glad your depression is behind you Jan, now let's go eat!

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin', Rawhide!: and, the smashing Giro d'Italia has finally started to turn uphill, not enough to bust apart the GC just yet but certainly enough to (1) bonk or crash most of the sprinters out of the race, despite Cav's controversial under-the-wire squeak thru the stage-6 time limit and (2) let the hardworking unsung roleurs get their day in pink on the breakaways. Bravo, little worker bees--remember, it's the meek who shall inherit the earth, or at least someone else's maglia rosa when it gets stripped off 'em from a doping poz!

So Long, Farewell, Auf Weidersehn, Goo--Holy !@#$!: finally, best wishes to onetime prodigy ohn-Lee Augustyn, retiring from the pros due to ongoing injury to open a bike shop in South Africa. If you'll recall, the youngster was on a hell of a run at the 2008 Tour de France before a most impressive flyer off a steep descent and a tenacious scramble back to the uplands: Good luck John-Lee--and remember, you'll *never* be as bad a descender as the Schlecks!