Get this man a towel.
Yellow band bracelet fans, smug suburban fathers who cut me off in traffic, and Cancer crusaders are going to be putting Bailey’s in their cereal this morning. Lance Armstrong, national treasure and hero to millions, just got stripped of his glorious Tour de France victories.
The United States Anti-Doping Agency has been sweating Lance’s accomplishments for years. They charged that he was the ringleader of a massive doping scandal. After fighting their accusations for the better part of a decade, Lance announced that he will no longer contest the claims. He’s not admitting he doped, but he’s not gonna fight to clear his name either. The sanctions were swift and devastating: Basically everything Lance won from 1998-on, has been struck from the books. He loses all titles, the olympic medal he won in 2000, and any prize money.
Look, I’m not one to be tellin’ tales out of school, oh who am I kidding!? I love sharing dirt and dish! Anysteroids, word on the street bike lane is that Lance Armstrong is a raging douche. He’s allegedly a cocky, a-hole scumbag who cheats on the ladies like he’s Wesley Snipes doing taxes.
Of course all of this is hearsay, but I’d like to think it’s true. It’s far more hilarious to imagine NATIONAL HERO AND TREASURE(!) Lance Armstrong as a jerk, cutting a wide swath of slutty conquests.
The facts are:
1.The dude beat some wicked cancer and odds.
2. He started a cancer foundation that has raised millions and a kick-azz website for fitness. (My personal go-to health spot, livestrong.com)
3. He’s got like, 5 kids off of one testicle.
Illegal enhancement drug-user or not, those are all great accomplishments.
Lancey, look at it this way: YOU’RE STILL PAID! And you’re bros with the TEXAS T-REX!
Dope!
I’d like to take this moment to tell my favorite “Lance Armstong-related” story.
In College, my baby bro was a drunk frat boy living in a frat house. I know, it’s shocking to picture someone with a stand-up big sister like me as a role-model, drunk as a skunk, but he was.
Anykegstands, one day he was out in the frat house front yard when a fat old man on a ten-speed and a yellow cycling jersey slowly rode by on the street.
“HEY, Slow down Lance!” My baby bro hilariously yelled.
“F*CK YOU, A**HOLE!” Fat Lance Armstrong screamed back.
“Live Strong!” Baby bro perfectly retorted.
And in a move that no one saw coming, or can explain to this very day, fat Lance Armstrong pulled down his bike shorts and mooned my brother, all while still on the bike.
The End.
Happy Friday, you dopey skanks! Sad Lance fans?
Here’s footage of the world’s tiniest bike being ridden! It’s sure to bring a smile to your face!
)
I was there for fat Lance! I think he mooned him because as soon as everyone heard and recognized his COMEDY GOLD, everyone else started shouting things like “Wait for me, Lance!” and “You’re going too fast!” so he decided to moon the drunken pack o’ skanks on the porch and it was definitely a full moon on the bayou that morning.
Hey….just a little off topic, but my friend Katherine probably had one of the best House Parties ever in Nowhereland, Abilene.
We had a black midget (named John, funny guy, by the way) doing a kegstand. I mean, is there anything cooler at a party?
A midget wearing a sombrero that doubled as a chips & salsa tray walked around a party at the very same frat house this post mentions. I believe that wins. Sorry.
tell the story where lance escorted sheryl to her limo buck naked in front of his house. I like that one. go lance go
By your email addy, I can tell that we are gonna be friends.
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Ya know… After awhile, I’d get tired of “fighting the claims” by a non-governmental agency, too. 100 years from now, no one is going to remember that he was “stripped of his titles”… They’ll remember that he was a *BADASS*. Pete Rose. Remember him? What was he banned from baseball *forever* for? GAMBLING. And no one *really* remembers that. Pete Rose was a badass baseball player, and that’s what folks remember. This PSA brought to you by Ketel One vodka and green olives. Dirty olives.
It’s a witch hunt. He’s a badass regardless. Besides, the International Cycling poobahs have the final word. F*ck the USADA! Mmmmm Dirty martinis- my faves!