Lance Armstrong Is Still An !@@hole

That's Still *Seven*, You Jealous Weakling Mother!@#$ers!: yes, Lance may've been disgraced, exposed as a thuggish two-wheeled low-life, and publicly reviled basically everywhere on earth besides the USA, but he's still one happy boy--just 'cause some winky cycling mecca took his yellow jerseys down from *their* display don't mean *he's* gonna do it, and in fact, he is just a-chillin' right in his man-cave with his seven maillots jaune on his Unshakable Wall o' Ego above his head. Classy! So Lance--you gonna frame yer old syringes that you won 'em with on up there, too?


Playing Chicken: meanwhile, fellow (alleged!) miscreant Michael Rasmussen is still beyond ticked he was cheated out of the 2007 Tour de France win by Rabobank of all hypocrite squads yankin' him out of the race virtually within view of the Champs-Elysees, when natch they new perfectly well he'd lied about his whereabouts months earlier when he accidentally skipped a doping control, so, having won in court once, he's going back for even more dough. Michael, I feel your pain. But it still doesn't excuse this, from your Dancing with the Stars stint!

Tom Boonen Means Business: okay, he's had a week off to play, but comeback studmachine Tom Boonen is ready to get back to work, aiming to repeat his spectacular 2012 Classics season and telling new teammate/best bud Mark Cavendish he's not too interested in the Tour de France this year so Cav can, in the hunt for the green jersey derailed by Chris Fro--uh, Brad Wiggins' incredible performance this year over at Sky, stuff it in terms of his help at least. Here, Tom gives Quick Step a heart attack by testing out a new Ferrari in the rain: Forza 2013, Tommeke--just for god's sake try to save the speed for the bike!

That's It, He's Innocent!

The Documents Don't Lie, Baby: yes indeed, if a virtual barked-out order from the head of Alberto Contador's cycling fed that he doesn't want the child found guilty weren't enough to guarantee he's getting off, now Alberto's even got actual printed proof on his side: the team's miraculously found the receipt for the dirty Basque steak that Contador unwittingly consumed that fateful evening in July. Contador, of course, who swears every two minutes he's done commenting on this bull!@#$ farce that's severely hurting his feelings, has--um--commented to the press he's both delighted and confident he'll come out unscathed. Now, I don't want to be a spoil-sport here, but it seems to me that this receipt proves, at best, two things: (1) someone bought a steak to cook, and (2) because as we all know it's a sin to waste perfectly good food, particularly as two weeks into the Tour you're probably gonna beat the crap out of the next schmo who serves you carbs just from sheer ennui, someone connected with the purchaser probably ate it. O ho, case closed, UCI! Now, show me the rancher's veterinarian's medical records proving Bessie was diagnosed and treated with clenbuterol for her tragic, chronic asthma, and the chain of custody leading from pasture to team bus, and a wacky contemporaneous team-bus cell-phone photo snapping Alberto and domestiques with forkfuls of steak held aloft, and *then* we're talkin'... Wait, folks, I think we got it--take that, UCI, you meanies!

The Chicken Returns (He Hopes): meanwhile, should this whole silly thing nonetheless throw a wrench into Bjarne's increasingly-jeopardized plans not to completely suck eggs for next season, luckily, he's still got options: the narcs aren't gonna challenge aging ballroom dancer/ex-basically-Tour-winner Michael Rasmussen's participation in the Tour next year. Let's just be glad this Tour ain't exactly stuffed with time-trial miles, shall we? Good luck, Bjarne--you guys are gonna need it!