Danilo Di Luca Feels the Love; Froome Feels the Burn; and Hey BMC, Hire Samu'!

If "Scumbag," "!@#hole," and "Bastard" Are Terms of Endearment, That Is: yep, the peloton's sure taken kindly to Danilo Di Luca coming clean about doping in the sport, with Andrew Talansky in the early lead for Tweet-o'-the-Year for sayin' he feels "genuine hatred" for him and he's a "worthless lying scumbag" who is clearly "delusional," damned-by-implication defending Giro champ Vincenzo Nibali kindly suggesting he's perhaps "a bit brain-damaged," and his few defenders--Dr. Eufemiano Fuentes and assorted miscreants who think it's a good thing to break omerta again apparently among them--getting blocked, unfollowed, dope-smacked, turbo-noogied and generally humiliated in the ihateyourgutsosphere. Who *is* gettin' the love outta this fiasco? That's right, 2008 CERA disgrace Riccardo Ricco', whose ever-loyal fans, as the Cobra's own proud retweets indicate, figure if what Danilo is saying is halfway true, Ricco' should be able to come back and join his equally dirty peers in the races right this very minute. Me, I think anyone who damn near kills himself with a bag o' blood left to sour in the fridge next to the week-old pizza leftovers oughta be banned for life just for stupidity, but if they're gonna ease up on that whole no-doping thing, well so be it. Just check the expiration dates on that !@#$ before you use it this season, moron!

It's a Glamour "Don't"!: oh sure, those Sky 'n' Trek mesh skinsuits were hot'n'sexy (well, actually just plain creepy) in theory, but in practice, they're a slather-you-in-hot-sauce-n'-throw-you-on-the-barbecue disaster, as reigning Tour de France king/fashion faux-pas lab-rat Chris Froome apparently had a baaaaaaaad experience with the scorching sun at the Tour de San Luis today. Now fix this mess before you take we love Cancellara out--and like Andy Schleck's not a crybaby enough *already*, now you wanna turn the poor kid into a piece o' toast?

Horner My !@#: and fine, Lampre's still all game to have Horner sign on, but have you fair-weather freaks forgotten about dear Euskaltel's we love Samuel Sanchez? Well, I haven't, and here's my solution--if Oleg Tinkov didn't love Alberto Contador enough to take 'im on, I see BMC's recently got a big hole in its roster and budget now that it's fired poor ozone-doper Alessandro Ballan. Wah, wah, you got Cadel for the Giro and Tejay for the Tour, but who better to shine for you at the beautiful Vuelta than Samu? And it's not like Lampre don't already have too many cooks in the kitchen, either--c'mon, BMC, take out that checkbook and Give Samu a Ride!

"Tattoo Tom" Comes Along: finally, nice to see Tom Boonen threatening some 2012-era form already at the Tour de San Luis today, and, according to the swooning local press, he's got some bangin' new ink to boot. Watch out, Pippo--dashing new bike-short tats or no, Tommeke's catching up with you!

Now *That's* a Gnarly Doping Control; the Season Takes Off; and, Carnage Report!

If You Have an Erection Lasting Longer Than Four Hours, Tell Your Team Doctor He !@#$ed You Up: so, thought you'd mercifully heard the last of serial eejit/banned for life ex-cyclist Danilo DiLuca? Nope, he's back honey, and--with the exception of having enough politesse, or at least self-preservation, not to name names--ready to squawk about doping in the peloton. First up: 90% of the peloton is doping, as are all the top 10 finishers in the Giro d'Italia, so quit pickin' on him you meanies! Second, as an EPO aficionado--and an inept one at that--he's completely calling bull!@#$ on the idea that you can ingest that stuff unintentionally, particularly (and he does make sense here) if the best way to take it is to stick a needle in your !@#. As for other designer drugs? Well, Viagra, as a vasodilator, is apparently useful when it's cold out, but *he* sure as hell wouldn't take it--I mean, the guy has standards! Uh, am I the only one feeling exceedingly sorry for the poor bastard asked to check for evidence of Viagra ingestion at the post-race doping control? I swear, they can't pay those guys enough...

And We're Off!: Before we get to actual results, let's all howl at the top of our lungs how a peloton without our dear orange-and-black Euskaltel completely sucks eggs, shall we? There! But still, the season's finally kicked off, and while Saxo boss Oleg Tinkov can pity impoverished Garmin impresario Jonathan Vaughters all he wants, he sure oughta envy his results: approximately ten minutes into the season, Vaughters protege Phil Gaimon has already bagged his first win with the big boys in the Tour de San Luis. Well done, whippersnapper! And has anyone yet explained how Simon Gerrans--brilliant a rider as he is--actually kicked Andre "the Gorilla" Greipel to the curb in a sprint at the Tour Down Under? Here, the San Luis recap, with a great beat to boot: Welcome back peloton--it's been a loooooooong off-season!

Carnage Report!: sadly, with the start of the season comes also the start of the destruction, with poor Tommy "the Grimace" Voeckler crashed out before he even leaves team camp with a crap re-break of his just-healed collarbone, philosophical Movistar good-guy Giovanni Visconti mourning the lonely 5-week road back from a snapped tibia, and both valued Cav lead-out Ale-jet Petacchi and inevitable-future-Tour-winner Nairo Quintana both whacked with stomach ailments at San Luis. Hey, I thought you only got a "stomach ailment" when you were about to test poz for something! Well, better to hear it's just some lousy bug, if it has to be anything, I guess...anyway, get well soon boys, and Alessandro, with Cav's beloved Renshaw back in his train, you sure don't want him getting too used to your absence!

Like That Disgusting Goo-Covered Thing That Pops Outta That Guy's Guts and Skitters Away In "Alien," But More Painful

Quotes That Rip My Guts Out: yep, even as EX-EUSKALTEL-EUSKADI rider Benat Intxausti, who those vulturous poaching carcass-pickers over at Movistar grabbed a coupla seasons back, takes a mountain stage at the Tour-of-Who-Gives-A-Crap-Except-It's-Dear-Euskaltel's-Last-WorldTour-Race-Ever!, our actual beloved Euskies continue to honor their carrot jerseys with characteristically hard work, but for my money, it's the quotes o' resigned doom coming outta the mouths of our boys in orange that's breaking my heart the most. The latest from team captain Samuel Sanchez, tentatively thought though clearly now not going to joining besieged and recently key-domestiqueless Alberto Contador at Saxo Bank: "Time goes by, and even if I do not want to end my career, I'm getting used to the idea of retirement." Arrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu (or however you write an agonized howl), arrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! Well *I'm* not used to it !@#dammit, what the !@#$ is with you cheapskate soulless assface sport directeurs, hire Samu' already, *look* at some of the goons you've got on your squads who could be added to or replaced! Oh, bad enough young sprinter (a sprinter! Euskaltel's got a sprinter!) Lobato has no home, erratic yet worthy Igor Anton is finally conceding “As things stand I’ve got nothing, or at least nothing concrete,” and half the team are tweeting rueful farewell pics of their final team kits, now this--arrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

On the Catwalk/On the Catwalk, Yeah/I Shake My Little Tush On the Catwalk: meantime, to no-one's shock, startlingly incompetent doper/Byblos runway man-candy Danilo "Low T" DiLuca's is finally facing a largely-too-late-but-at-least-symbolic life-time ban from his own deeply annoyed cycling fed. I gotta say, I almost get why guys like Jan Ullrich and poor ol' Strawberry Shortcake here are so aggravated at the utter arbitrariness at who still gets singled out for scorn--or all-embracing, prodigal-son forgiveness--in the peloton. Ah well, Danilo, at least your buds can keep you in style with free clothes!

If You Experience Performance-Enhancing Symptoms, Call Your Team Doctor Immediately to Get More: and, many thanks to USADA for their warning today about a popular weight-loss and "focus-enhancing" nutritional supplement that apparently acts on the body like meth, because apparently, that lovely opioidtramadol crap the new, clean generation's currently taking as a pain-reliever (pain-relief being, well, useful to athletes who painfully *ride* six freakin' hours a day)isn't even banned yet. It's under review though! Whew, I'm *so* glad things have completely changed...hey, if you guys aren't gonna use your resources to combat this, maybe you could use the spare energy (and dough) to help Samu get a new contract instead?

Danilo Wants a Do-Over; Lance Chimes In; and, Last Chance to Call the Podium and Win!

So Are We Pissed 'Cause He Doped, Or Pissed 'Cause He Just Doped Stupid?: yes, the Giro d'Italia stage was canceled but the drama went on: Danilo "Strawberry Shortcake" Di Luca, previously busted for using so much masking agent he topped out with lower testosterone levels than a Ken doll, was nailed yet again for EPO. Danilo's take? He's optimistically--if delusionally--waiting for the B sample before he talks. Peloton reaction was, natch--and surely on the iron-fisted advice of their PR folks--swift. My fave tweet: Movistar's recent stage winner Benat Inxtausti telling Di Luca discreetly, in Italian, to shove it up his !@#. Hey, you ever suggest that to yer incredibly clean teammate Alejandro "Bloodbag" Valverde? Thought not! Lance Armstrong, of course, got all the attention, calling Di Luca a "f___ing idiot," but apparently just for getting nailed, not the actual cheating. Geez Lance, if Danilo had your power, your sponsorship dough, your expensively stoked-to-the-gills domestiques to fuel your astonishing palmares, *and* yer machiavellian mastermind Johan Bruyneel in his pocket, maybe *he* could have afforded the obscenely huge $$$ to be as "smart" as you too! Friendly note to nearly-deadly-inept drug-stuffing life-banned mountains freak Riccardo Ricco': coincidental timing or not, tweeting a pic of you and Danilo riding together is *not* doing the boy any favors. you're *not* doing Danilo Di Luca any favors tweeting a pic of the two of you riding together. !@#$, just post photos of the two of you with syringes in your rumps giving the camera a big thumbs-up whydontcha?

It's the Mountain o' Truth, Baby!: finally, while Cav sits tight awaiting his inevitable win on Sunday, there's now just one truncated day left for the podium fighters to make their cases, so I, for one, am expecting a full-on attackfest brawl between Cadel, Rigoberto, Michele and (for the stage win--shut up! will too!) Samuel Sanchez. So enter here, brownnose me about the superior fabulousness of Euskaltel, grab eternal glory, and win yourself a cycling cap! The profile (so far this evening): Forza, forza Cadel and Samu--and watch out for those neon snakes at Lampre!

You Do It! No, *You* Do It! No, YOU Do It!

How Do You Say "Weasel" In Spanish, Again?: yes, in an exceedingly early win for the Master Evasion Move of 2011 Award, as the Spaniards invite WADA and UCI to essentially rule on Contador first to head off being kicked, stomped, thwapped, beaten and set on fire by outraged Spanish tifosi should they actually be forced to dope-ban a national icon, and UCI huffs hysterically that they can't do anything on "procedural grounds" to avoid being forced to dope-ban a photogenic international cash-cow, all parties have now managed to punt this hot little potato by Pat "Dick" McQuaid's claiming the thing's suddenly so damn complex they don't know *when* there's gonna be a ruling and, as a result--oops!--poor little Alberto may not be at the Tour by--not by any of our actions, you understand--mere default. Nice try, you spineless wussmeisters--if the Second Coming goes down, everyone's still gonna blame you anyway! Ah, I *love* the smell of napal--um, hypocrisy in the morning!

It's the 2011 Vuelta a Espana, Baby!: in far more important news, of course, the route for the 2011 Vuelta has been announced, and if you can't climb like a monkey, honey, you might as well stay home and cry like Mark Cavendish after a, well, win. Even better, the race is taking us into the Basque country, which means that screaming orange-and-black clad fans will be there to whack Nibali off his--that is, vociferously encourage we love Igor Anton and Samu Sanchez onto their inevitable and cleanly-earned podium perches. Aupa Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllll!

Dirty Deeds and They're Done Dirt Cheap: over in the Italian peloton, meantime, odious bottom-dweller Riccardo Ricco' is claiming that it's possible to win the perfect Giro without cheating--which it possibly is, except for him--and Danilo "Il Killer" DiLuca, who recently redeemed himself by smashingly calling in an actual priest and confessing his sins to a room full of actual schoolchildren, has scored a possibly-free gig with Team Katusha, who are still apparently a bit iffy on risking a Giro invite over 'im but will allow him to desecrate the holy Vuelta instead. Oh yeah, forget that weak, old-school "kissing babies" Ivan Basso crap--call in the exorcists and first guy whose head spins around projectile vomiting while tied to a bedstead gets forgiveness for Satan's unwanted actions and a spectacular Grant Tour return! Look, here's poor sweet Danilo just last week:

UCI See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

Heaven Can Wait (And Wait, And Wait, And...): yep, those of us with an actual "doping bad" philosophy can get our collective panties out of their bunch--after those party-poopers at WADA ripped UCI for their Tour de France performance for (1) failing to carry out enough doping controls on certain favor--I mean, suspicious riders and (2) timing the controls so cyclists could flush the drugs out of their systems and (3) stomping through team-hotel lobbies with an oompah band to give the riders plenty o' time to hide their stashes yank the IVs out of their arms and snort a pile o' masking agents, UCI, in an unprecedent attack on the scourge of dangerous, traitorous doping in the peloton, has sworn to--yes, *study* the situation! Geez, you cowardly clowns, why not just give up the pretense and have Pat "Dick" McQuaid walk down the start line every morning with a musette full o' syringes whammin' 'em into each rider's !@#? Sure beats all this cloak-and-dagger fuss--and hey, who *doesn't* want a level playing field clearly guaranteed?

Riis' (In) Pieces: as if losing the Schlecks, Fabian, Jens, and Stuey weren't already crap news enough for one season--not to mention vague rumors about some obscure rider named "Contador" or something--poor Bjarne Riis was apparently kicked in his works yet again when he unsuccessfully tried to salvage next season by signing on reliable Tour de France stage winner/general Classics strongman we love Thor Hushovd. Damn, I know he was a complete tool to Sastre and won his own Tour de France drugged up like Keith Richards and all, but even I'm starting to feel a little twinge of mercy for this guy. I mean, freakin' Johan Bruyneel gets a two-month vacation with a special exception for the Tour Down Armstrong next season and *Bjarne* gets tossed into the deep-fryer for the whole year? Tylenol, take me away!

Live (Dope) Free or Die: finally, erstwhile dopemeister Danilo "Strawberry Shortcake" DiLuca's return to the peloton appears to be a bit on the rocks, as the Giro director expresses reluctance to take our reformed boy back into the race, and the Italian squads seem even to be more squicked out by Danilo than that odious little snakeling Riccardo Ricco'. Geez, it's not like Danilo hasn't done the Ivan Basso pin-up thing--he's posed on a zebra-striped throne in his birthday suit and walked the runway for Dolce & Gabbana, right?--I *told* you to copy the guy's entire playbook and start kissing babies for charity too, DiLuca you blockhead!

Me, Myself, and I

Taylor *Who*?: sure, he may be (along with shock new US Champ Ben King) the future of American cycling, but if his name's not Lance Armstrong, Lance "Why the !@#$ Should I Fake Like I Care if I'm Not Even Riding Anymore?" Armstrong's predictably uninterested: hot in the middle of discussing Taylor's contract situation (and the squad's future, which prospects might be improved with the building of an actual, y'know, team of riders) with Team RadioSkank, Lance gets a call from a future Senator subordinate and hocks Taylor Phinney like a stale day-old tobacco-juice lougie square in the middle of the phone call. Classy! Needless to say, the boy's decided to ride for BMC, which just goes to show that George Hincapie has not only managed to be a genuine star in his own right despite being inhaled by the enormous galaxy-sucking black hole that is Lance's ego, but has still maintained enough of an awareness of and interest in the world outside himself to actually mentor a stellar and deserving young talent. So now that imminent-President Lance is apparently already the point-man on US policy with North Korea, anyone else guessing who's the front-runner for the 2010 Racejunkie Wanker of the Year Awa--um, Nobel Peace Prize?

The Man of Steel is a Wussy: ah, "Jens Voigt." Have any two words ever struck such fear into a helpless breakaway, simpering stage-win wannabe, or simply any cyclist who might have the gross misfortune to get insta-burned-to-a-cinder by the blazing rocket fuel blasting from the legs of a passing Jens? Nope, which is why it's so delightful to report that this frustrating, glorious cesspool of a sporting endeavor is being graced--and destroyed--by Jens' holy presence for one more year. Every stomp on his pedals is a gift to cycling's beautiful history; every "!@#$" from his lips is a revelation. Complete, bad-!@# perfection, thy name is Jens Voigt!

The Best Hallowween Costume Ever!: yep, with any luck, disgraced Italian icon Danilo "Strawberry Shortcake" DiLuca will be showing up at your doorstep with a plastic orange pumpkin dressed up like a clean cyclist--ha! clever boy!--as the narcs get ready to decide the appeal of his latest ban ending in summer 2011. For my money, what Danilo could really use more'n even a half-melted mini-Almond Joy-- besides more half-nekkid photos of him reposing on a leopard-skin throne on Google--is a straight-out miracle. Trick or Treat--can Danilo you trade some Sweet-Tarts for an exoneration from the anti-doping authorities?

Less Than Zero: meantime, rumors continue to link Michael Rasmussen to Bjarne Riis's new whatsisface squad, with the interesting possibility that the Chicken's so desperate to get back in the ProTour that he'd be willing to work for nothing. Damn, Bjarne, if you're makin' Fabian Cancellara give you 3 million euro just to buy out the rest of his contract, you can't even spare a few bucks a day to pay Rasmussen in decent espressos?

Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnssss!: finally, let's once more reflect on the master that is Jens: Aw, Jens, just *one* more year?--what the heck is wrong with *ten*?!