Good morning. I'd like to thank all of you for coming here today at my insistence despite the fact that I hate the press, despise publicity, complain at any acknowledgement of my existence, and want all you vultures to just leave me alone. HEY--YOU AT THE BACK GETTING THE DONUT--PAY ATTENTION OR I'LL HAVE BRAILSFORD KICK YOUR !@#!
We're here to address the controversy surrounding my agonizing decision not to defend my 2012 title at this year's Tour de France, which as you know I never even wanted to do at all in the first place, even before I saw I'd completely choke on this year's course, that nutwhacking little !@#$ Froome was gonna steal my thunder *again*, and the race organizers inexplicably turned down my 50,000 euro "incentive" to substitute the mountaintop finish at Alpe d'Huez with a 300 kilometer perfectly flat time trial. HEY, LADY IN THE SECOND ROW NURSING THE BABY--ITS EYES FOCUS *HERE*! (jabs fingers towards his own face) Instead, I was fully committed to riding as my very first choice the noble and beautiful Giro d'Italia, which I proved by telling the press continuously throughout the race that what I really wanted to do was ride and win this year's Tour again. Luckily, I was able to get outta *that* one just in time to keep yet another one of my superdomestiques from embarrassing me with an overall win!
Next, in light of my catastrophic and previously-unannounced knee injury, which also has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Froome, Rodriguez, Contador, and even that erratic whackjob Valverde would crush me like a cochroach in July, I'd like to make it absolutely clear that I throw the entire weight of my prestige, power, and warm support behind my great friend and worthy Grand Tour team leader Chris Froome. BLUE SHIRT WALKING OUT THE DOOR--NEXT WEAKLING WHO GETS UP TO USE THE 'BATHROOM' WHILE I'M TALKING CAN !@#DAMN USE HIS PANTS! Accordingly, any instances of the chamois being ripped outta his bike shorts, tranquilizers being put in his water bottle, custom bikes mysteriously falling into the hotel woodchipper, and/or Muzak blasting into his earphone from the team car instead of instructions from the DS during key strategic moments is purely accidental.
As for the repulsive and slanderous rumours circulating in the peloton about Team Sky's unimpeachable training methods and firm anti-doping stance, I'd like to say not only that if you think Lance came down on anybody who crossed him, you haven't haven't halfway seen the destruction *I'm* capable of wreaking, and frankly, if there's anybody you oughta be looking at, it's F--uh, France! Finally, as for my plans for the rest of season, I'm really looking forward to undermining my hardworking loyal helpmate Henao at the Vuelta a Espana, even though its brutal heat and sadistically steep climbs are totally unsuited to my strengths and beautifully suited to his. As for the World Championships, I--YOU WHISPERING AT THE BACK, ONE MORE PEEP WHILE I'M UP HERE AND I'LL RIP YOUR VOCAL CORDS OUTTA YER THROAT!
I will now take questions I find complimentary and pleasing, accept adulation from commoners, and pose for photographs wearing a full set of knightly armor and hoisting a javeli--HOW DARE YOU GET UP TO LEAVE EARLY, I'M ABOUT TO PLAY "STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN" ON MY GUITAR, I'LL HAVE YOUR JOBS YOU !@#ERS! Thank you.
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