Video Killed the Roadie-o Star; and, Cadel and Samuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! #cycling

Ready, Aim, Siiiiiiiiiiing!: yep, not content with being (1) retired (2) obscenely wealthy despite screwing an entire sport into eternal ignominy or (3) yappin' to BBC how he'd dope again anyway, fallen hero Lance Armstrong is yet again ho-ing himself for the limelight, now appearing in a close rocker friend's hi-larious new video, including, according to the fine folks at cyclingnews, a voice mail message in which he cautions the listener to "step the !@#$ off, Lance." !@#$, he's threatening poor Tyler Hamilton *again*? Anyhoo, here, Lance sings his eponymous hit single:

BMC, They're Totally Cool Again: and, in Team BMC's continued redemption from having hosed we love Thor, Philippe, *and* Samuel Sanchez the last couple seasons, the squad is bringing its A-game to Cadel Evans' official farewell to the peloton in his Cadel Evans Great Ocean Road Race, including, of course, Cadel and new re-sign Samu. Now bow to him at the Grand Tours BMC and you'll *really* have earned your keep already this season!

It Pays to Beat Mark Cavendish: finally, congrats to youngster Fernando Gaviria, who recently beat Mark Cavendish in a sprint at the Tour de San Luis, because thanks to his win over a most formidable opponent, he's reportedly now considering offers from both a Belgian and a French World Tour squad. Belgian, huh?--so *that's* what Cav's gonna do, absorb the boy into his 2015 lead-out train at Quick Step! Fast *and* smart, that Manx Missile is...

When *I* Was A Youngster, We Rode Up Alpe d'Huez on Wooden Wheels, and We *Liked* It!

Damn Whippersnappers!: yep, the generational war is on: legendary cycling god Bernard "You !@#$ With My Podium, I Land On You Like Bricks!" Hinault has weighed in on the sport's doping scandals, saying that while cycling *is* being way picked on, he still wouldn't even hock a lougie on that sport-destroying systemic-scarfin' dirtbag Lance Armstrong to help put a raging fire out on his head. Hell, I can respect that! The problem: guys like former drug-stoked pro Jorg "Did Not! Did Not! Okay, Maybe I Did" Jaksche are calling bull!@#$, saying not only has doping been around since the early days when cyclists famously smoked to "open their lungs," but Hinault--uh, his generation--itself consumed enough speed to turn a bunch of nacho-stuffed football-watchin' couch-spud nut-scratchers into Flash Gordon supersonic superstars, so who is *he* to complain, the disgusting hypocrite? Well !@#dammit, if these coddled futuristic EPO-eating blood-gorging vampire weaklings hadn't had access to such advanced obvious supercharged rocketfuel !@#$ no-one'd ever've gotten busted in the first place! Oh, Bernard, you were all *so* ripped off with the primitive drugs around in your day....

Don't Worry Your Pretty Little Heads: meantime, newish UCI prez Brian "I Heart Women's Cycling" Cookson has explained his opposition to a minimum wage for women's (though of course not men's) cycling: forget all that crap with the thousands of fans lining the roadside for women's races in recent years, if you make the sponsors pay the riders enough for the women to not have to fence stolen goods outta the back of a truck for a living, they'll all lose incredible piles of money and bail outta the sport, and *then* whose fault would it be? I tells ya, give those petty high-maintenance pampered princesses an inch and they'll start demanding bathroom breaks once a day! And water to drink! And, like, equipment from the 21st century and stuff! !@#$, they'll be whining for those incredibly expensive energy drinks, the *men's* teams might be down one for their towel guys! And who'll offer me fries with that if the cyclists don't have to get a second job at McDonald's to survive? The horror, the horror...

Puritoooooooooooooo!: finally, watch out Valverde--at least--we love Purito Rodriguez is coming for your podium spots, as, while you're knockin' yerself out herding Nairo Quintana up the high passes playing superdomestique, he's decided to ride both the Tour de France and the Vuelta. Odds of you having at least one race-destroying catastrophic meltdown day in either Grand Tour--well, pretty freakin' high, let's be honest. Odds of Purito kicking your !@# up and down the mountains at a steady pace with intermittent streaks of intimidating speed--pretty darn sweet. Allez allez Purito--the Vuelta at least is yours--is so either people, bite me you haters!

The Hell With the Giro-Tour-Vuelta Triple, I Don't Even Wanna Ride the Tour de France Single!

Somewhere, Alejandro Valverde Is Crying In His Beer: yep, the 2015 Tour de France is out, and, without just gackin' up the details you already read, it is, as it should always be, a climber's delight--so much so that the Tour organizers' orgasmic dream of an Alberto/Nairo/Froomey/Nibali Tour is already wrecked, with a, well, unconfident Chris Froome bailing rather'n face a rather-comfy-lookin' Alberto Contador in the heights. Wah, wah, he's already gonna be tired from Tinkov flagellating 'im all Giro anyway, what are you afraid of you big baby?! Meantime, Valverde, already sworn to sacrificing himself for wee jailbait phenom Quintana next year, has reportedly been careening around the streets in a sobbing drunken haze cornering disinterested strangers and drooling on 'em, "it coulda been me next year! it coulda been me!" Luckily, leaving aside one hopes the nasty hand of fate in 2015's coming battle, Alberto's still got Nibs and Nairo to amuse himself against next year--if Nibs still has any domestiques left by the time the narcs are done crackin' down!

Nightmare on Hincapie Street: back on our side of the pond, yet another shameful scandal has erupted on the US cycling scene--highly regarded and beloved 7 time Tour de France victor Lance Armstrong was first allegedly allowed, and now is for no good reason whatsoever not allowed, to ride ex-teammate/partner in dope George Hincapie's upcoming Gran Fondo. !@#damn right it's an outrage--Lance is a hero! He's never tested positive once! He's a sterling example to young riders everywhere! He's proven you can come back from a two-year retirement and kick total !@# on jailbait upstarts at the To--oh wait, what year is this again?

Watch Out Sagan, He's a'Comin For Ya!: last (but never least), Peter Sagan better watch his back at next year's Tour de France--Mark Cavendish all better from his disastrous Tour-ending crash, he's tired of everyone else taking the spotlight, and he is ready to stomp Marcel Kittel Andre Greipel (like he even has to) and not-even-a-sprinter Peter Sagan for stage-win glory in July. Oh well, Peter, at least he's not going for the green jersey--I'm sure the patient and sensitive Oleg Tinkov won't mind that for a consolation prize if you don't take any stages next year!

Get the Hell Outta There, Alberto! Wiggo Plays Nice! Lance Plays Dirty! and, It's the Strade Bianche, Baby!

Ole' Ole', Ole' Oleg!: Okay, Alberto, you greedy little prima donna, you've got wingnut team boss Oleg Tinkov's cool approval for now: he ain't makin' any calls about your performance in the Tour de France, he *is* optimistic for yer chances at Tirreno-Adriatico. Take what you can get at this point, honey! Unfortunately, despite the outraged denials of a certain rider's agent, and Luca Paolini's descriptive emoji twit-dismissal of recent rumor-mongering, Tinkov seems a lot hotter on 4 million euro prospect Peter Sagan, which means if he *is* gonna pony up to break all kindsa contractual hoo-ha, you can effectively call your team supremacy--hell, relevance--at Tinkoff goodbye. If you can't pound Froomey at the Tour Alberto, you better get out while the getting's good--and perhaps be ready to get out after Tirreno!

Wiggo Plays Nice: well, nice-ish, anyway, as admits to some post-Tour discombobulation and vows to "help" Chris Froome all he can this year. Uh, I don't know if you remember, Froomey, but if Brad is going by *your* definition of "help" during *his* winning year, I think you're pretty well !@#$ed. Unless attacking your own team leader, openly deriding him in the press, and generally acting like a total impatient backstabbing wanker are "helpful"--well, don't say you weren't warned!

Ugh, Lance, *Again*: yep, even besides the usual charges of disgusting cheating 'n' extreme toolishness which have surrounded our hero of late, there's even more scandal a-risin' with the latest wave of Lance Armstrong books, with good-guy Wheelmen author/intrepid journalist Reed Albergotti reportedly saying that Lance or his minions contacted his bosses at the Wall Street Journal to try to get his !@# fired, apparently over some bothersome "truth" that got in the way of Lance's image and, even worse, his own dazzling self-worship. !@#$, Armstrong, where's your class--you coulda just gone to the WSJ offices and personally cornered 'im outside the toilet like you did with ol' Tyler Hamilton!

It's the Strade Bianche, Woo-hoo!: and finally, there's lots of actual racing going on this weekend, with the beautiful Strade Bianche and the beginning of unsung super-domestique-but-leader-in-his-own-right Richie Porte's defense of Paris Nice. What to see on the white roads in Italy: not freakin' much, thanks to the damn (yet hallowed) dust, but it'll be a bangin' race, with we love BMC's (omigod! BMC???) Samuel Sanchez, Cadel, Sagan, Wiggo, Cav, Valverde, Cancellara, and defending champ Moreno Moser all on hand. Me, I'm actually just stoked to Samu' back in action again, especially since I'm traumatized enough as it is by wishful thinking every time I see Wiggle-Honda's Euskaltelian orange-and-black team kit. Good luck gents--and Peter, you can start proving yourself and your salary demands to Tinkov now!

99 Luftballons (And One Colossal Freakin' Paycheck); and, News From the Department of PR and Bodily Safety Disasters

War! Huh! Good God, Y'All! What Is It Good For? Uh, His Wallet: uh-huh, just as Lance Armstrong gets all righteous at everyone throwing him under the bus--because, y'know, he didn't benefit more'n anyone else from his 7 Tour wins, ginormous cult of personality, thuggish omerta enforcement, and constant slavering planetary hero-worshiping butt-kissing from legions of adoring fans and journalists--and accuses then-UCI prez Hein Verbruggen of covering up a 1999 cortisone poz (and frankly, I think he's just ticked UCI apparently tried to cover up ol' Astana nemesis/next-gen-superstar kingship-thieving twerp Alberto Contador's doping poz, too) here comes that stinging wasp-on-wheels/demonic ex-teammate Floyd Landis, using a law apparently developed for wartime use to try to extend the time (and coincidentally, by truly humungous buckets, money) he can go back and dig outta outta Armstrong for his Postal-era nefarious weaseldry. Bet you'll think twice *next* time you wanna make a rude gesture to someone on Brasstown Bald, Lancey-boy!

Rider to Vino: Break My Kneecaps: well, *that* was a short-lived career: refreshingly outspoken--if perhaps not, well, brainiac--2nd-year American Astana protege Evan Huffman has just openly criticized erratic'n'ornery team boss Alexandre Vinokourov for his post-bio-passport-ban hiring of Franco-of-the-Euromullet Pellizotti. Oh well, kid, it's not like you needed those "unbroken bones" of yours anyhow--I'm sure Vino's goons won't put too much of a wrench into yer season! Now, upside yer *head* they might try to whack one...

!@#dammit Hire Samu' Already!: finally, as a truly galling number of cheating dirtwads continue to find gigs for 2014, most of dear departed Euskaltel-Euskadi continues to be hopelessly jacked for next season, including we love Samuel Sanchez, still trying to get a gig with Team Colombia or even Wanty but even allegedly considering a move to an advisory role with the growing world-o-cycling in Dubai. !@#$in' hell, World Tour, Horner I get but Sanchez? He's a spring chicken by comparison! And scandal-less! And--dag nabit, just hire 'im already! Look, look, remember when he was King o' the Mountains? Glory shall be yours, I tells ya!

Good News: The Vuelta's Clean! Bad News: You Still Can't Ride It!; and, Alberto Steps It Up

Dodgin' the (Green) Bullet: yes, we--even, say, Alejandro "Balaverde" Valverde--can all relax now: the Vuelta doping results are out, and the race was 100% no-holds-barred bucket-o'-integrity cutting-edge-testing clean. Woo-hoo! Does this mean everyone's suspicions are allayed and Chris Horner gets a million-euro contract now? Uh-huh, I thought I heard crickets chirping! Anyway, peloton, don't let this all go to your pretty little heads--if you're a female racer, you can apparently wait til you're older'n Horner is before there's a Vuelta a Espana with your name on it. Pigs! Oh well, at least we still got the Giro Donne--forza Italia, as usual!

I'm Sorry/So Sorry (For Me): and, Lance's regret for how he destroyed cycl--holy crap, he really *does* mean "regret for how mean and unfair everyone's been to me"--continues to warm the hearts of other sincere faux-repentants, as not only does he persist in claiming he's ready and willing to open up completely so long as he's in total control and gets exactly what he wants in every way--which hey, seems reasonable to me if I HAD A FRIGGIN' GOD COMPLEX--but he also claims he's delighted to accept any punishment, including the sport's "death penalty", as long as the dirty cowardly rats who helped him win 7 Tours de France bazillions of dollars worldwide adoration and ('til he dissed Floyd Landis once too often) the worlds' best-ever cycling omerta' are held to the exact same standard. Y'know, I do think most of those guys got off way too lightly, but really? You don't see any difference whatsoever in terms of who you were vs. who they were to the sport? No, I guess it's genuinely hard to see beyond the retina-scarring solar glare of one's own boundless ego...

Talkin' 'Bout My Generation: finally, if you thought Alberto Contador was finito after his disastrous 2013, you're wrong, baby--make room at the grownup's table again, Froomey, because he's already completely revamped his training regimen, gotten ready to hit the wind tunnel, and put in some high-altitude miles in Rio. As to those other headliners-of-yesteryear, the Schleck brothers? Well, I can't speak for Andy--though Frank certainly can--but big bro at least is ready to channel the anger and disappointment of 2013 into 2014 victories and is truly hungry to ride. If only you could reawaken the passion and confidence of your wee brother Andy once again, too...well, Alberto Froome & Nibali'd still kick his !@#, but it'd be nice to see some gumption back, anyway!

Oh, Like You Don't Miss Him Too: The Grimy, Thrilling Pleasure of Jan Ullrich

Look, before I get a ton of crap from, well, both my faithful readers, let me reiterate--*again*--that doping is bad. Really, really bad. It was bad when early-1900s Tour riders were smoking cigarettes to "clear their lungs," it was midcentury bad when guys were popping amphetamines like tic-tacs, it was wicked bad--and deeply disgusting to boot--when boys like Tyler Hamilton and Riccardo Ricco' were whizzing black and damn near exploding their livers with botched transfusions, and it still ain't sporting today. But if you can still say with a pure heart that Jan Ullrich on a bike wasn't the most just plain fun to see on a bike since, well, that unctuous filthy mastermind Alexandre Vinokourov, honey, you are either so noble that a caffeinated energy gel is the food of the devil or you are Pat "Dick" McQuaid on an implausible-deniability post-Lance-sycophant faux-ingratiating total-bull!@#$-artist last-ditch-o'-glory-desperate-UCI-presidency-seeking-shameless-power-whoring-campaignfest. Yes, after breaking years of post-downward-spiral silence--on freakin' Lance's doping, for heck's sake--the gun-shy Jan has finally spoken out on his own. Sure, it's that same cheap level-playing-field just-business-ma'am self-congratulatory rationalization that's egregiously failed everyone else and screwed generations of riders unwilling to put their health or integrity at risk--but let's review Jan on a bike, shall we?

He was erratic. He was uncontrolled. He insisted in grinding away in some ridiculous gear on the most inappropriate terrain because he could. He was a bratwurst-snarfing self-hosing bon vivant in the offseason, padding his gut outta contention til way later in the season than he should've been. He was a killer-instinct in motion without remotely the self-discipline he needed to actually back it up. He was a screeching brakeless train on a half-!@#ed bridge just waiting for a derailment. And he was way, waaaay, waaaaay more entertaining than that damn joyless robot and his perfectly-pharmaceutically-tuned tick-tock domestiques who beat his !@# every year like clockwork.

So what's he doing now, after what must have surely been an agonizing--if hardly sympathetic--Floydian several years watching equally-drugged-up compatriots complete--hell, even evade entirely--some penny-ante wrist-slap ban and return to loving accolades lucrative careers and a completely whitewashed place in history while he almost alone freakishly bore the blame for an entire generation's destruction of his sport? He's teaching little kids cycling, without a single carnival-quack Millaresque self-serving camera-slut wah-wah that's so bizarrely succeeded in rehabbing other guys just as stupid to get caught to save himself. Mr. Ullrich, you were a very bad boy indeed, and there's no justifying how you cheated the good intentions and honest regimens of--hell, certainly *somebody*. And yep, having opened the door on the obvious years after the party's broke up and gone home, it's probably better--and clearly more comfortable--for everyone, except of course the still-wildly-adored-but-more-promptly-shameful dopers that still make a handsome living off of DSing the clean new stars, if you just chill back into obscurity after this. But having so loved it back then, it'd be even more hypocritical to rewrite our own complicit history now. !@#$, Jan, you were fun to watch!

Holy moly, is this a dirty dirty parade of crooks in this clip: Enjoy--even if you won't admit it!

Johan Bruyneel's Lament: Lance's Right-Hand Man Speaks Out (Sorta)

So lemme get this straight: if Lance hadn't had the desperate adoration-slut black-hole life-suckin' vortex-o-ego to come back outta retirement, *and* Johan had had the common sense to offer a bitter broke-!@# Floyd Landis a contract when he asked for one, *none* of this USPostalDiscoveryAstana doping'd've come to light? But I thought all these guys came forward solely outta personal regret and pure love of the sport! Damn, I *hate* being fooled. Anyway, it just goes to show, (1) hell hath no fury like a loogie-covered fall guy watching his equally-dirty ex-teammates still rakin' in the dough and fan-love and (2) Johan'd still have a pretty sweet job in this business if he'd only been a loooooooooot nicer to Alberto Contador. Live'n'learn! In further "woe is me" news, Johan is deeply--*deeply*--hurt by the allegations he endangered his riders' health with a coercive doping regime. You think he's some cloak-n-dagger back-alley-buyer home-fridge beer-cooler amateur? He bought those guys the best !@#$ money can buy, you !@#$ers! Oh, and he's not a "demon." He's a sasquatch. But aside from that, he can't say anything else for legal reasons. Uh, Johan, haven't you already said *enough*? Keep it comin' though, I say!

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!

It's the Lance/Oprah Interview Racejunkie Awards!

Yes folks, I usually don't throw a huge glitzy Oscar-esque awards show just for a one-off (well, two-off) event, but this slutfest debacle was so very special it more'n deserves one of its own. Prizes: seven dirt-black swill-covered jerseys, and Lance gets twenty minutes alone and defenseless in a dark room with Frankie, Betsy, Emma, Floyd, Tyler, Simeoni, and...damn, who *doesn't* this goon deserves twenty minutes with? Anyhoo, here they are....

Understatement o' the Century: "I am an arrogant prick." Even better than "I am not the most credible guy in the world right now!"

What the !@#$...Hey, Why Me?! Award: *really*? All the people he coulda thrown under the bus, and he calls Christian Vande Velde a liar for saying he was pressured to dope? I mean, okay, CVV cheated and profited handsomely by it, the guy's no saint, but geez, throw the freakin' Easter Bunny under the bus whydontcha?

I Am the World's Most Colossal !@#hole Award: I destroyed so many people for telling the truth about me I don't even *remember* 'em anymore--ha ha! Gee, Lance, I bet Emma--y'know, the one you basically called a drunken whore whose entire life you wrecked--remembers it pretty well! *What* a wanker...

Corollary Sensitive New Age Guy Statuette: sure, I called Betsy Andreu a crazy, lying bitch--but hey, at least I didn't say she was fat! Oh, Lance, the hits just keep on comin'...

My Handlers Went Over This Veeeery Thoroughly With Me Prize: I did not dope or perjure myself within the statute of limitations. I did not dope or perjure myself within the statute of limitations. I did not dope or perjure myself within the statute of limitations. Because spending 3 tranquillo years outta the peloton just about guarantees a guy a Tour podium, you weasel!

Holy Crap, the Poor Boy is Delusional Award: All the !@#$ you did and you still think you were on a "level playing field" with the other dimwit hotel-fridge internet-supplement dope fiends? See, Jan, forget the power, the money, the payoffs, the team of superhuman minions, the cutting edge technology, the warnings about doping controls...he'd'a beat you all along anyway...

Is That Violins Playing? Prize: Wah, wah, wah. So how come every child of a single mom isn't a ruthless lying cheating scumwad?

Weren't You Listening, You Morons?! Award: that was *UCI* I bought off, not USADA! Learn your acronyms you ignorant twits...

Let Them Eat Cake Clueless Whine o' the Interview: oh, he's sorry all right--sorry he lost a sweet $75 mil, that is. Phew, good thing he can still afford to sprinkle diamonds on his Wheaties for breakfast!

And the Moral Of the Story Is Smarmy Wrap-Up o' 2013: the truth shall set you free, baby. And I *still* ain't saying the half of it--suckers!

Well, dear readers, them's mine, and if I missed any awards he should've gotten, I hope you'll award 'em for me. Now let's all take a loooooooooooooooong hot shower 'til we finally feel clean again, remember why we still all love this sordid sport, and get ready for the Tour Down Under, baby!

It's He-eeeeeere--the Lance/Oprah Interview Transcript!

Voice-Over: Cancer survivor. Icon. Inspiration to millions. Seven-time winner of the Tour de France. And now, shadowed by controversy. Today, my candid, no-holds-barred interview with the one and only Lance Armstrong.

Oprah Winfrey: Lance, I understand you had a difficult childhood. Tell us what that was like.

Lance Armstrong: It was awful. (Tries to cry; rubs chili pepper in corner of eye instead)

OW: Mine, too. And like you, I triumphed over terrible adversity. Tell us what that was like.

LA: Well, I found solace in sports. And I triumphed over terrible adversity.

OW: That's so inspiring. What happened next?

LA: I found out that I was good at cycling.

OW: Now, "cycling," what is that?

LA: It's when a bunch of snotty Europeans with foreign accents wear stupid spandex outfits and stuff themselves with illegal drugs biking all over socialist countries for money.

OW: That sounds terrible.

LA: It is. Then, I discovered I was sick.

OW: And thankfully, you triumphed over that.

LA: Yes. And I set out to become an even better cyclist than I had been.

OW: That's so inspiring. And how did you do that?

LA: Well, I worked hard, which is the American way. Also, I did what I had to do, but only because a guy named Johan Bruyneel made me do it.

OW: That name sounds European. It must have been very difficult for you.

LA: It was. And I told my teammates that if they didn't do what I had do too, I would crush them like vermin and they would be consigned to the dustbin of history.

OW: That must have been so inspiring for them. Then what?

LA: Well, I donated a bunch of money to organizations who could bust me for just trying to compete equally with everyone else. Just so they could buy nice new lab equipment though.

OW: That's so generous of you. So what happened next?

LA: Well, I kept on beating Europeans. And I'm American. So that's, like, better.

OW: So you inspired millions of young Americans to become cyclists. That's so inspiring. Now, there's something you're not telling us.

LA: Well, I didn't want to make a big deal out of it...

OW: That's so humble of you. But you started an incredibly successful organization dedicating to fighting cancer that inspired millions of people, didn't you?

LA: Well, yes. And I used that to shut up my critics. Who were Europeans, and a bunch of European-lovers, who also wear stupid spandex clothes, ride their bikes on the roads where there are supposed to be pickup trucks, and eat, like, these ridiculous tiny "energy gels" instead of barbecue.

OW: I love my yellow bracelet. But while you were inspiring millions, something was terribly wrong, wasn't it?

LA: Yes. Some of my teammates tried to have their own careers. With Europeans.

OW: That must have been heartbreaking.

LA: Yes (rubs chili pepper into eye again). Then, a bunch of other guys got busted for doping.

OW: Now, "doping," what is that?

LA: It's what I did better than anyone else. Because I'm American.

OW: That's fantastic. So why was that bad?

LA: Well, a bunch of bitter has-beens were out to get me. Just because I tried to destroy their lives for telling the truth about me.

OW: That must have been horrible for you.

LA: Yes. And then, I called Floyd Landis, Tyler Hamilton and Greg LeMond to apologize even though I hadn't done anything wrong, and they were totally mean to me.

OW: Who?

LA: Well, they're--

OW: So you apologize for nothing to some people we've never heard of, and they were mean to you. How selfish and uncaring of them.

LA: It was.

OW: And yet you triumphed over that pain. That's so inspiring. Lance, let's lay it on the line for all the world to hear: is there anything else you want to tell us?

LA: Yes. I did this all for me. Me, ME, M--(Rolex-clad forearm appears from off-camera, whacks Lance upside the head)--my children. And my fans. And for America.

OW: Lance, thank you for sharing your story with us. It's very inspiring. And if you look under your chair, you'll find the keys to a BRAND NEW PRIUS!

LA: (Shrieks with delight and jumps up and down clapping his hands as credits roll)

Holy Crap This Isn't a Joke: Lance is Yappin' on Oprah

Which can only mean one thing, dear reader(s): he's going for the I-couldn't-help-it-everyone-else-was-doing-it-I-was-just-trying-to-inspire-others-after-a-terrifying-illness-and-remarkable-comeback-so-now-you-can't-criticize-me-without-looking-like-a-colossal-!@#$wad-tearjerker-martyr-hero-gullible-fanboy-who-doesn't-give-a-rat's-!@#-about-cycling sympathy vote. Am I the only one who's just about two seconds and a strong personal sense of ladylike restraint away from hurling right now? Thought not! Still, it's gotta be tough faking your first human emotions, especially for the cameras, so in order to help Lance connect with the intended audience, I think he could use a few tips:

1. "I had a tough childhood." Who doesn't love kids?

2. "I discovered something I was good at." Self-esteem blossoms!

3. "Someone else believed in me." Validation!

4. "I worked really hard." He's grateful!

5. "I started winning, like, out of nowhere." Success!

6. "I hit the lowest of low points." Yes, and everyone, even everyone who hates you, is genuinely glad you're okay.

7. "I had to prove to myself I could do it." Yes, and everyone, even everyone who hates you, is genuinely glad you could.

8. "But I found out it wasn't so easy." Obstacles!

9. "Everyone else was doing it." Amoral European socialists!

10. "I trusted Johan." Vulnerability!

11. "He guided me." Lack of personal responsibility!

12. "It was the only way for a level playing field." Justification!

13. "I still beat them anyway." Proof you deserved it!

14. "I am so, so deeply sorry." Remorse!

15. "I've learned a precious lesson." Self-awareness!

16. "I hope to start anew." Redemption!

17. "For my family, for my fans, and all of cycling." Selflessness!

Well, Lance, that oughta tide you over, unless someone actually asks you to explain your years of vindictiveness, how it could possibly have been a level playing field with all your money power influence and doped-up superdomestiques, and your totally callous exploitation of others' sympathy for personal gain. And as you've surely considered carefully, that ain't gonna happen on Oprah. 'Til then, try not calling anyone a "liar" or a "whore," keep that $250,000 you offered to USADA in the bank, and you'll do juuuuuuuuuuuuust fine!

UCI: Hypocritically Hosing Bitchin' New Teams Since 2013

You suck, UCI!: as if there weren't already enough reasons to loathe narc-supremos UCI, woo-hoo! now, there's even more, as UCI gives a pointless and gigantic hosing to cool new South African Pro Continental squad MTN-Qhubeka, which helps give bikes to children in rural areas in return for work done to help their environment and their communities. How'd UCI screw 'em? Well, if UCI don't sanction races, a Pro Conti squad can't race in anything but its own national championships, and that just really sticks it to a squad. Y'know, I get--heck, I downright admire--UCI's wholesome rule on refusing to ok races sponsored by organizations promoting cigs, porno, or beverages with an alcohol-by-volume percentage over 15. So it might almost make sense, in the interests of protecting grown-up human beings from the nefarious, nay, near-criminal influence of South Africa's Tour of Richelieu--named for, and sponsored by, a brandy company--for UCI not let it be a UCI-sanctioned gig. Until you think o' this: why, then, do you schmoes sanction the Amgen "EPO" Tour o' California every year? No doubt, Amgen is a fine and noble company, and EPO, used for its intended purposes, has greatly helped the lives of many people. But the very same UCI rule also prohibits sponsorships promoting "any other products that might damage the image of UCI or the sport of cycling in general." Uh, I don't know if y'all at UCI have heard, but illicit use of EPO has actually been linked to some preeeeeeeeeeettttty major damage to the sport (and you clowns, too) of late. I guess the devil liquor is the real danger to the sport, all right! Next up: UCI sanctions the Dr. Michele Ferrari "Dope Your Blood Up" Tour o' Chem Labs. You suck, UCI--free MTN-Qhubeka!


Oh, and Lance is reportedly considering admitting to his doping. Because he feels guil--uh, because he wants to be able to compete in triathlons again. Glad to see his "conscience" is kickin' in!

It's Yer 2012 Year in Review!

Yes, beloved reader(s), scarily, there's still a good two weeks left for the peloton to top even the disgusting ridiculous and downright pervy excesses of this year, but, in a preemptive nod to the brilliant work the lads and ladesses have already done, it's time to honor 'em all with our 2012 Year In Review!

January: he's baaaaa-aacccck--Valverde returns from doping ban, disconcertingly expects startling improvement in time-trial; Chloe Hoskins calls Pat "Dick" McQuaid a !@#$; Andre Greipel whomps at Tour Down Under.

February: Andy Schleck sez he'll win the Tour--yep, for sure!; Franco Pellizotti brings his golden locks back to work; Contador gets "two-year"-but-actually-six-months doping ban, Lance celebrates his twerp-nemesis' downfall--enjoy it while you can, buddy!

March: Tommeke out of funk, takes Harelbeke and Gent-Wevelgem--game on, baby!; Cav demands bidon-tossing crash-causing peloton "dickhead" "get a license"; Grand Tour-hopeful carnage at Volta a Catalunya. Allez Allez guys--if you can recover in time!

April: Thor's season in toilet; Cancellara crashes out of Flanders; Boonen bags Roubaix in thrilling breakaway; Samuel Sanchez gets Tour of Basque Country; Schlecks in Suckville, panic at RadioSkank!

May: Holy crap Ryder Hesjedal wins the Giro! back-bacon futures soar; Liquigas controls the peloton to no useful effect; Roberto Ferrari takes out half the sprinters with punk-!@# move, issues snarling !@#$-you non-apology; Schleck crashes as Purito gets his wings.

June: It's the Road to the Tour, honey! Ex-Lance-domestiques Dave Z, Hincapie, Vande Velde "don't feel like" doing Olympics--hmmm, that don't seem good; Horner kisses Johan Bruyneel's butt, gains RadioSkank team leadership; Wiggo strong at Dauphine'; Alberto thanks Bjarne with long-term contract. Now just get that boy some backup!

July: What else? Roadside assclown takes out tearful Samu'; psycho strews tacks on course, Cadel on rampage; Frank Schleck out, and positive for dope!; Chris Froome--uh, Bradley Wiggins wins the Tour; holy crap Vos and Vino take the gold!

August: it's the fabulous Vuelta a Espana, baby!; Lance officially down in flames, millions of delusional fan-boys continue support; Phil Liggett flips out (shut up! bite me! we still love him anyway!).

September: Contador rips Vuelta from Purito with One Great Day; Vaughters outs Dave Z, Vande Velde, Tommy D as dopers, and that ain't the half of it; Gilbert redeems blown season with smashing World Champ win; is there *any* race Vos can't grab when she wants to?

October: Swiss court rules Floyd Landis can't call UCI's Pat McQuaid and Hein Verbruggen "terrorists" "full of !@#$" or "Muammar Gaddafi", but *can* call 'em every other foul name you can think of; scathing USADA report is out, but Lance sez his "conscience is clear"--easy when you ain't got one, I guess; Julich out at Sky as squad demands (1) lie about your doping history or (2) you're fired. And you thought omerta' was out of style!

November: ex-doper and harborer-of-dopers Vaughters is clean cycling's hero-darling, Johan Bruyneel in bunker mode; team camps send riders to special-ops boot camp and underground salt mines; smug Armstrong poses with Tour jerseys in man-cave; disgraced UCI takes the high road as chief enabler McQuaid excoriates Landis and Hamilton as "scumbags." Well, sure beats "wanker," Pat!

December: Greg LeMond saves the sport; Euskaltel, Giro Donne screwed *again*; Tour champ/press-hater Wiggo is British Sports Personality of the Year; Katusha sues for ProTour license. Like they've got any worse morals than Astana, for heck's sake?

Well, my dears, that's it for the year so far--let's hope they don't screw up any worse before New Year's!

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!

Yer Handy Guide to the Brave New World o' Cycling--In Ten Easy Steps!

Well folks, the implications of the Armstrong scandal are finally starting to sink in to the teams, the managers, and the peloton, and since it's clearly a whole new world out there--and by "new," I include whatever "new" doping methods are already outwitting the bio passport and bypassing the doping control--it's time we all review the ground-rules, avoid any future screw-ups, and get the hell with the program. Ergo, I bring you:

1. If you doped years ago, never tested positive, and lied by omission, you are (1) a hero and (2) a victim.

2. If you doped years ago, tested positive, and lied by speaking, you are (1) a scumbag and (2) a perp.

3. If you doped years ago, and lie about it, you're hired. But you are *so* in the doghouse if you get busted 10 years from now, buddy!

4. If you doped years ago, and actually 'fess up to it, you're fired.

5. If you doped years ago, actually 'fess up to it, and are a devoted mentor to young riders, you are still fired. Or you get to run Garmin.

6. If you doped recently, didn't 'fess up, and are still riding, you're on Movistar, Lampre, or Saxo Bank.

7. If you prosecute dopers after a thorough and careful investigation, you are an evil, joyless witch-hunter who has destroyed the sport.

8. If you enable dopers through sustained incompetence, sporadic ennui, or outright complicity, you are head of a major international sporting union.

9. If you're Johan Bruyneel, you're pretty well !@#$ed.

10. If you perpetrated the worst sporting fraud in history, and kept it quiet through threats, intimidation, and hiding behind your charity work, you are still, and always will be, a multi, multi, multimillionaire. Ha ha!

All right, you two-wheeled speeding clowns, I've helped you all enough. Now crank up that Armstrong-in-effigy bonfire, toast up some marshmallows, and don't say I didn't warn you!

A Reality Check on the Great Doping Purge o' 2012; and, The Church Takes on Lance Armstrong

Out, Out, Damned Doper!: look, I'd love--*love*--to see anyone who ever took dope completely banned from the sport. And maybe that's the way it should be from today forward--one strike and you're out. And for my money, penalties should actually be stricter for (1) any dirtweasel, particularly a DS dirtweasel, aiding abetting and encouraging doping by any rider(s) and (2)that smug little hypocrite Millar. But realistically, you put these rules in place right this second like Sky, and you're not gonna have a DS or anyone else worth jack running the sport for a good 15 years. *Really*, De Jongh Yates and Julich are the *only* guys with skeletons in their (1998 for !@#$'s sake) closets? Frankly, I call bull!@#$--at best, they're ones who haven't kept lying about it and signed some dimwit pledge to keep their jobs. So if we do purge this sport--a laudable goal, considering the disgusting cesspool it's become--who the hell do we all expect to manage cycling, much less ride it, for the next decade, some soigneur's freakin' 5 year old? What's more, who *is* getting a pass right now from the fans and the governing bodies seems like total arbitrary crap, and as a loyal if deeply conflicted Heras Mayo and Ullrich fan, I should know from. I mean, I love Dave Z and all those guys too, but isn't it completely offensive that these guys are getting a pass for 'fessing up only when forced to and keeping utterly self-interestedly silent when Armstrong was character-assassinating guys like Landis and Hamilton for being lying pigs when they knew it wasn't true, as it pertained to Armstrong anyway? So if we're really all at peace with purging the sport of dopers completely, right now, that's cool--call me on board, so long as it applies to everyone. Just no whining when 2013 rolls around and there's like 3 guys left to ride and staff the races, you hear? Alternatively, we can do the whole truth-and-reconciliation thing, accept that a huge slew of skankwads will never be held accountable for their actions so long's they yap now, and start afresh with the zero-tolerance tomorrow. Anyone?

Okay, the Vatican It Ain't: but still, I see Lance has now managed to get all his yellow jerseys excommunicated from the Cappella Notre Dame des Cyclistes, visited by a cool 15,000 faithful a year and, though aware its action is merely symbolic, comforted by the knowledge that Lance Armstrong'll bur--uh, that it's the right and just thing to do. Oh well Lance--at least yer still a multimillionaire, what's a silly little soul in comparison?

Good News for Lance Armstrong, That Lying Sack of !@#$; And, In Defense of Bobby Julich

Fear No More, Desperate Lance Fanboys!: yep, dry your tears, o innocent (stupid, whatever) ones: your spotless hero's got good news today, straight from the rich-guy-analysts at the venerable New York Times--sure, Lance may've lost his 7 Tour de France wins, destroyed the lives of countless whistleblowers who were actually telling the truth about 'im, orchestrated one of the most repulsive and potentially physically dangerous doping schemes ever for himself and his totally-whipped teammate-beeyotches, and besmirched the name of the worthy cancer charity he founded, but he's still gonna be mother!@#$in' rich, baby! Now, that is just news to warm my frozen heart. Why? One, because I naturally root for underdogs, and who is more of an underdog than poor beseiged Lance, and why should *his* sainted name go down in infamy just 'cause T-Mobile and them couldn't systemically dope for !@#$? And two--and best of all--Tyler, Floyd, Frankie, Betsy, Greg, and especially Simeoni: *now* there's a point to suing his goon-thug concrete-shoe-makin' kneecap-busting !@#, 'cause he's clearly got the dough to pay your damages! Hey, maybe now Landis can start payin' back the people he ripped off with his "Fairness Fund"...

Owner of A Broken Heart: look, I'm getting !@#damn tired of defending everybody over their stupid doping confessions they only gave under subpoena, after they'd happily sucked in millions of bucks worth of contracts or sponsor deals, or when they got busted doping like a moron. But I'm gonna stretch my neck out one last time for dear Bobby Julich, and before I get any crap about he's no different than anyone else and it's grossly unfair to penalize someone just because they're not widely reviled throughout the peloton as a colossal d!@#, let me say this: when Bobby Julich strode right past me into a vineyard at the 2006 Giro d'Italia and I had to immediately avert my eyes in horror when it turned it he was goin' in for a wee, all I can say is, well, I didn't *see* nothin' suspicious. Of course, if I'd seen *anything*, I would have passed out flat on the roadside, as I am a delicate lady, but still, that's gotta count for something, right? One interesting note in his confession, in his defense of Bjarne Riis: how he says he didn't see any systemic doping in the CSC squad. So does that mean he observed it on an individual level? Oh, right, Frank Schleck was just running off to Switzerland during the Tour to track down his favorite Swiss beer, and Ivan only *attempted* to dope...

You Can't Make This Stuff Up: finally, congrats to the perfectly wisenheimer Italians, whose newly-unveiled 2013 Worlds mascot turns out to be the unforgettable Pinocchio. Am I the only one suspecting that no matter how clean the current peloton yells it's gonna be, his nose is *still* gonna gonna grow a good half-dozen times next Worlds? Oh, Geppetto, I thought you raised that boy better than that!

Yer What the !@#$ Are They Thinking? Peloton Roundup

Yes, we've most of us made it through the apocalypse, and the survivors are, predictably, wiggin' the hell out, so I'm thinkin' it's time for us to take a *wee* step back and consider things rationally:

1. Christian Prudhomme. So Lance's Tours "have no winners?" Sure they do--Joseba, Ullrich, and Iban. Euskaltel and T-Mobile didn't have half the dough to do that !@#$ as well as Postal, so a level playing field it wasn't. As a bonus, those riders are, while clearly imperfect, also not colossal witness-intimidating !@#holes. Oh, bite me you Puritans!

2. Pat "Dick" McQuaid, Tyler Hamilton, Bjarne Riis. Okay, I'll solve this stupid war: *none* of you has any place in cycling. Tyler: you benefited, you got busted, you talked. It's great you finally did, and I hope the sport changes, too. But can't the book just stand on its own by now? Pat "Dick": you enabled it, either actively or incompetently failed to confront it, or all three. *Go* already! Bjarne: how the heck is *this* guy any better than Bruyneel? Am I the only one who remembers CSC? Damn!

3. Pat "Dick" Again. "UCI would accept donations from riders in the future." What?! Okay, maybe Millar'd just donate because he's a sanctimonious pain in the works, but like no-one else'd just be expecting a wink and a nod next time? Look, *I'll* freakin' donate if you actually prosecute someone besides Franco Pellizotti and some dimwit neo-pro buying toxic unregulated scam-garbage off the internet, how's that instead?

4. Michele Ferrari. You look like a *massive* tool for saying to tuttobici you only provided your riders with "dietary strategies." What the hell kind of "diet" involves stickin' an IV full of drugs in your !@#? On the plus side, it's swell you're still friends with Lance!

5. Cadel Evans. On a related note, holy crap, he may well *be* the only man in cycling who got just "training advice" from Ferrari. We believe in you Cadel!

6. Jens and Samu. I will always love and 100% back Jens Voigt and Samuel Sanchez. However, on the Armstrong issue, they both appear to have been taken over by aliens. Please, can't someone get those pod people outta their brains?

7. Tom Boonen. No matter what anyone else says about your own history, we still love you Tommeke--'cause we don't think you took all that coke to improve your performance!

8. Rabobank. Hilarious. *Now* they're pissed?

9. Philippe Gilbert. Am I the only one the least bit skeptical that the "new generation" everyone's yappin' about is really way cleaner? Look at all the amateur pozes this year for heck's sake! Yep, just as after Festina there was Puerto, after Puerto there was the Great CERA Scourge of 2008-2010, after that there was this, 5 years from now there'll be some vomitous scandal again...

10. And Finally, Some Kind Advice: Alberto Contador, for your own good I beg you, not a word. NOT A SINGLE 'NOTHER WORD ON THIS ENTIRE SUBJECT, EVER, YOU UNDERSTAND ME? Dang, someone's gotta protect these boys from themselves!

Okay, on to 2013. Hey, it can't be any more of a trainwreck than 2012, right? I know, famous last words...

My Fantasy UCI/Pat "Dick" McQuaid Press Conference

Good morning. As you may know, I am Pat "Dick" McQuaid, proud president of UCI, the preeminent pro--uh, anti! anti!--doping organization in cycling. I apologize for the lousy audio feed, but as you can imagine, here in the unmapped rainforest in Borne--uh, I meant Brazil! I meant Brazil!--where I'm in hiding, there's not exactly primo cell phone coverage. So good luck tracking me down to face criminal charges, mother!@#$ers!

Anyway, I've called this press conference to address the very serious and upsetting USASA report on Lance Armstrong. First, I'd like to say what a privilege and pleasure it's been all these years of willfully blind slutty obsequiousness to ride to personal fame, glory, and untold wealth on Lance's golden-jersey anti-cancer-hero coattails. Now, of course, I'm gonna have to pull a Nike and completely throw his dirty doping !@# under the bus even though I absolutely knew--uh, heard! with shock and disbelief! through third-hand rumor and innuendo only!--he was a cheating scumwad the entire time. In that vein, I hereby blame everything on honorary UCI prez/former head honcho Hein Verbruggen, who, despite my personally grabbing Lance for a urine sample every six seconds which was then immediately tested in the half-million dollar testing machine that Lance bought for us and totally coincidentally very generously calibrated by hand himself prior to each test, totally thwarted my every sincere and noble effort to substitute pig urine for Lan--I mean, to catch that filthy druggy cheat every race. And naturally, we won't be appealing the decision on Lance to WADA, primarily because I won't be here to give a cra--uh, provide the in-depth commitment of time and analysis that a thorough pursuit of justice requires.

I next want to address the ridiculous allegations that UCI treated certain riders more favorably than others, which is not only offensive, but downright inaccurate. If you look carefully, you'll see that it's not the *riders* I treated unfairly, it's the *teams*. Look, did Tyler or Floyd or Heras ever come up positive while they were still riding for Lance? No! I only went after their sorry !@#es when Lance ordered me to after they left his service at USPostalDiscovery--I mean, when the testing protocols caught up to their nefarious actions! And that snotty little twerp Contador--when he was still smart enough to stay Lance's meek little beeyotch, uh, when he was just an innocent boy trying to navigate the treacherous roiling waters of the peloton, did I *ever* get on his case? Nyet again! Apropos of nothing, however, I think it's very interesting that a recent statistical analysis shows that Hein Verbruggen, by contrast, routinely nailed individual riders in direct proportion to their personal failure to provide him with piles of cocaine, conflict diamonds, spa weekends, and booze.

Despite the clear slanderousness of the unjust witch-hunt against me, and in order to protect the sanctity of my untraceable and ginormous Swiss bank account--uh, to spend more time with my friends and family! yeah, them!--I have decided to resign from my cherished position at UCI to accept a new gig as a DS-in-absentia for my fellow anti-doping advocates at Garmin-Sharp. Therefore, I hereby announce that my replacement at the reins of UCI will be Lance Armstrong himself. Just kidding!--it's Frank Schleck.

Well, I see this call is about to become traceable, so unfortunately, I won't be taking any questions. Thank you and goo--holy !@#$, is that a freakin' panther up there?!--(call ends with sounds of shrieks, chomping)