It's the 2014 Giro d'Italia, Beeyotches! All's Forgiven, You Wanker! and, Money Troubles of People Who Can Bite Me

Rosa Is the New Bad-!@#: yes, fellow Giro junkies, the "humane" 2014 corsa is officially out, with enough sprints (8, too !@#$in' many for me, but then I don't have to ride it) to seduce Mark Cavendish, enough "medium mountains" stages to give false hope to the breakaway artists, enough high mountain stages packed into the final week to guarantee GC suspense, and, after last year's violent protests, enough transfer time that they don't have to rappel some poor sap like Scarponi down from a helicopter to get 'im to the next stage in time and risk whackin' 'im into the rock face of the Passo Stelvio. Best of all--though it makes no actual sense from a race perspective--we start in my ancestral stomping grounds of fair Ireland. Road trip! Here, yer official promo: FORZA, FORZA, FORZAAAAAAAAAAAAA--oh, c'mon, Nibali, a Giro-Tour double can't be *that* hard, right?!

Redemption Song: and, huge congrats to Purito Rodriguez on his season-soothing--and second consecutive!--Giro di Lombardia win, and for then graciously deciding to simply agree to disagree with mortal enemy/Worlds-screwing teammie Alejandro Valverde as to both gentlemen's view of the prior weekend's race tactics, at least until Purito has the opportunity next year to jam a bidon into Valverde's chain ring flap a musette into his face on a plummeting descent drop 'im in a violent cross-wind and accidentally squirt an espresso gel onto his glasses on a twitchy corner. Jeez, of all the perfectly solid 'nother reasons to want Piti's !@# outta the peloton, and *this* is what's pissing Spain off? Perspective, people!

No Scrubs: meantime, while Alberto Contador's getting just glowing press for cutting his salary by like two million euros to save Bjarne Riis' de-Tinkov'd Saxo Bank--which has, for !@#$'s sake, saved-Alberto's-butt-and-shoulda-podiumed-instead-himself Roman Kreuziger, who alone makes the team worth saving--the rest of the peloton isn't faring quite so well in the wage-crushing scramble for the last few pro spots, so desperate high-class rabble Thomas de Gendt, for example, has taken an 80% pay cut to just to ride at all and be some GC snot's water boy, which means he's probably earning like what the best women earn now, which means he better start training on that McDonald's Fryolator but quick. Am I the only one not quite crying a river that Alberto, adorable as he is, is only gonna make like five million euros in salary and endorsements to possibly choke at next year's Tour? On the other hand, that cute little "pistolero" thing--aw, I'd pay gazillions of dollars for that too!