The Legend of Lance Armstrong's Balls
(I understand that this post must be sealing my fate and ensuring my swift transport straight to Hell. But hey, you go to Heaven for the weather; you go to Hell for the company. This post is also dedicated to Adrian, for whom I will be most impressed with if he still manages to make it to work today with his soul intact after reading this blastphemy with his morning "cough-ee".)
You know who I’m beginning to develop a serious hate-on for – Lance-fucking-Armstrong, that’s who! It’s all “Lance this…” and “Lance that…” – his name is literally on everybody’s lips these days...like iced decaf mocachinos.
Lance Armstrong has almost successfully reached an immortal status by today’s cultural standards. It’s getting harder to separate the man from the myth at this point. I mean, what hasn’t this guy got going for himself? He’s currently competing for his 7th straight Tour de France victory; has conquered testicular cancer after it spread to his brain and lungs in 1996; he started a popular fashion trend nationwide with his fucking yellow silicon rubber bracelet thingees; he bikes around with Robin Williams in Central Park; and he’s banging, arguably, the hottest woman in Rock n’ Roll - Sheryl Crow.
This guy has seemingly got it fucking all! Here’s a guy that could seduce the Statue of Liberty. He’s like Superman without that limp dick Clark Kent alias. You'd think I'd be eager to jump on the whole Lance Armstrong band wagon dealie, wouldn't you? But you, dear readers, know me better than that - there is an indescribable urge to have this numbnut chain-whipped by a gang of Cambodian midgets gnashing in the back of my head.
I'm just sick and tired of hearing about the exploits of this Lance Armstrong guy. I'm developing the same kind of homocidal urges that I also experience with the Darkness, men who knock fists, and kittens rolling in toilet paper.
For those of you who do not follow the hype, let me bring you up to speed. There is further speculation that Lance Armstrong single-handedly built the pyramids at Giza, the temples at Chichen Itza, and the complex of Angkor Wat in six days using only an ice pick and sandpaper. In fact, those gigantic carved circles in the remote coastline mountains of Peru aren’t really ancient flying saucer landing pads, but actually the huge circular impressions of Lance Armstrong’s balls when he sat down briefly to rest on the seventh day. Lance Armstrong can walk on water, not because he is Jesus; but because the normal force as described by Newton in his modern law of physics does not apply to him – the guy is simply that fucking amazing! Shit, I bet you could bottle his piss and make millions marketing it as a cure for herpes.
It just never ends.
But lets stick to what we know to be true. By all rights, nobody should even know who Lance Armstrong is! Who EVER watches international cycling besides that hairy gimp Robin Williams? Let’s face it, it’s a boring fucking spectator sport. You spend all day by the side of the road in the middle of remote French countryside waiting for the moment a gaggle of pedalling riders in tight shorts race by at 80 mph only to disappear again over the horizon a few moments later. I'd rather watch Jessica Tandy trim her pubic hair. How can you get excited over, what, 30 seconds of action just to cheer “Pedal, le bitches, pedal!”
Americans are only interested in cycling just so long Lance Armstrong is still kicking some boney European ass and taking names. After he retires from the sport, the Tour de France will inevitably just lapse once again to the same obscurity level of popularity as the ‘World Lesbian Bocce Championships’.
But regardless, it’s the fact that Lance Armstrong accomplished all these incredible feats in cycling after he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. Holy shit, cancer of the balls? I will admit that it takes a special breed of human being to get over that kind of medical trauma to bounce back and win six straight Tour de France "maillot jaune" * - but this would have most of us guys trying to work our big toes into the trigger of a 12-gauge shotgun while leveling the barrel into our jaw plates; but not Lance, he just goes on to become a sporting phenomenon and a rumor starts that he has a fully functional light saber as a penis or something. Sure this is all worthy of my respect, but I’m getting sick and tired of hearing about Lance Armstrong’s Charlie Brown’s! Call me old fashioned, but that’s more information than I really need to know about about cycling!
In doing this, Lance Armstrong unwittingly started a coast-to-coast fashion trend by wearing a yellow silicon rubber bracelet with 'Live Strong' emblazoned on it to show his support for cancer research. Now every motherfucker on the planet is wearing one of these blasted things! The whole thing reminds me of high school when rebelious teenagers would color code their Doc Martin shoelaces as a means of identifying themselves. Shit, I were to ever wear yellow shoelaces while walking down the halls of Merritton High School back in '93 I would have run the risk of having my ass kicked for being a 'Militant Homosexual White Supremist', or something just as insignificant and stupid.
In fact, this whole rubber awareness bracelet trend has just exploded out lately with the force equitable to that of the first ‘Big Bang’ that gave birth to this crazy solar system. Now, besides the initial yellow 'Live Strong' ones, we also have to contend with a whole spectrum of other colored wristbands as well. Everything from anti-smoking, cystic fibrosis, AIDS, racism, tsunami relief, poverty, supporting overseas troops, Autism **, even the fucking Discovery Channel has one available for it’s loyal couch potato academics. It’s like every charitable organization in the whole wide world has a new color-coded bracelet to brand their supporters with. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if there are little denim blue ones with ‘Just Say No to Pants’ for those whom may be avid about not wearing pants. No charity or cause is too stupid or too insignificant it seems - somehow, the little silicon rubber bracelet legitimacizes the charity as a valid concern among the socially conscious members of society.
Big-fucking-whoop!
Which brings us full circle to his current girlfriend Sheryl Crow. Apparently, Sheryl found what makes her happy when she hooked up with ‘ol Lance baby. Everyday may be a winding road, but I bet her days and nights are filled with intense multiple orgasm straightaway's thanks to Lance’s miraculously healed super cajones.
Hell, I'd fuck the guy.
Yep, Lance Armstrong has it all – and I hate him for it. The only persona still alive in this galaxy that may even be even contend with Lance Armstrong for ultimate superiority in this lifetime would be Jack Lalanne. Now THAT would be a battle of epic proportions that would make Gilgamesh’s battle with the Bull of Heaven seem like a preschool hissy fit.
Ultimately, the safe bet is still on Lance Armstrong though. He'll carve his name into Lalanne's belly with a bicycle spoke and defeat him by judgement of Thunderdome!
* That means "yellow jersey", you schmuck.
** AUTISM is a fucking charity - since when? Those squirrely little fuckers can probably count an entire box of spilled toothpicks in a split second; that's not a disability!
You know who I’m beginning to develop a serious hate-on for – Lance-fucking-Armstrong, that’s who! It’s all “Lance this…” and “Lance that…” – his name is literally on everybody’s lips these days...like iced decaf mocachinos.
Lance Armstrong has almost successfully reached an immortal status by today’s cultural standards. It’s getting harder to separate the man from the myth at this point. I mean, what hasn’t this guy got going for himself? He’s currently competing for his 7th straight Tour de France victory; has conquered testicular cancer after it spread to his brain and lungs in 1996; he started a popular fashion trend nationwide with his fucking yellow silicon rubber bracelet thingees; he bikes around with Robin Williams in Central Park; and he’s banging, arguably, the hottest woman in Rock n’ Roll - Sheryl Crow.
This guy has seemingly got it fucking all! Here’s a guy that could seduce the Statue of Liberty. He’s like Superman without that limp dick Clark Kent alias. You'd think I'd be eager to jump on the whole Lance Armstrong band wagon dealie, wouldn't you? But you, dear readers, know me better than that - there is an indescribable urge to have this numbnut chain-whipped by a gang of Cambodian midgets gnashing in the back of my head.
I'm just sick and tired of hearing about the exploits of this Lance Armstrong guy. I'm developing the same kind of homocidal urges that I also experience with the Darkness, men who knock fists, and kittens rolling in toilet paper.
For those of you who do not follow the hype, let me bring you up to speed. There is further speculation that Lance Armstrong single-handedly built the pyramids at Giza, the temples at Chichen Itza, and the complex of Angkor Wat in six days using only an ice pick and sandpaper. In fact, those gigantic carved circles in the remote coastline mountains of Peru aren’t really ancient flying saucer landing pads, but actually the huge circular impressions of Lance Armstrong’s balls when he sat down briefly to rest on the seventh day. Lance Armstrong can walk on water, not because he is Jesus; but because the normal force as described by Newton in his modern law of physics does not apply to him – the guy is simply that fucking amazing! Shit, I bet you could bottle his piss and make millions marketing it as a cure for herpes.
It just never ends.
But lets stick to what we know to be true. By all rights, nobody should even know who Lance Armstrong is! Who EVER watches international cycling besides that hairy gimp Robin Williams? Let’s face it, it’s a boring fucking spectator sport. You spend all day by the side of the road in the middle of remote French countryside waiting for the moment a gaggle of pedalling riders in tight shorts race by at 80 mph only to disappear again over the horizon a few moments later. I'd rather watch Jessica Tandy trim her pubic hair. How can you get excited over, what, 30 seconds of action just to cheer “Pedal, le bitches, pedal!”
Americans are only interested in cycling just so long Lance Armstrong is still kicking some boney European ass and taking names. After he retires from the sport, the Tour de France will inevitably just lapse once again to the same obscurity level of popularity as the ‘World Lesbian Bocce Championships’.
But regardless, it’s the fact that Lance Armstrong accomplished all these incredible feats in cycling after he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. Holy shit, cancer of the balls? I will admit that it takes a special breed of human being to get over that kind of medical trauma to bounce back and win six straight Tour de France "maillot jaune" * - but this would have most of us guys trying to work our big toes into the trigger of a 12-gauge shotgun while leveling the barrel into our jaw plates; but not Lance, he just goes on to become a sporting phenomenon and a rumor starts that he has a fully functional light saber as a penis or something. Sure this is all worthy of my respect, but I’m getting sick and tired of hearing about Lance Armstrong’s Charlie Brown’s! Call me old fashioned, but that’s more information than I really need to know about about cycling!
In doing this, Lance Armstrong unwittingly started a coast-to-coast fashion trend by wearing a yellow silicon rubber bracelet with 'Live Strong' emblazoned on it to show his support for cancer research. Now every motherfucker on the planet is wearing one of these blasted things! The whole thing reminds me of high school when rebelious teenagers would color code their Doc Martin shoelaces as a means of identifying themselves. Shit, I were to ever wear yellow shoelaces while walking down the halls of Merritton High School back in '93 I would have run the risk of having my ass kicked for being a 'Militant Homosexual White Supremist', or something just as insignificant and stupid.
In fact, this whole rubber awareness bracelet trend has just exploded out lately with the force equitable to that of the first ‘Big Bang’ that gave birth to this crazy solar system. Now, besides the initial yellow 'Live Strong' ones, we also have to contend with a whole spectrum of other colored wristbands as well. Everything from anti-smoking, cystic fibrosis, AIDS, racism, tsunami relief, poverty, supporting overseas troops, Autism **, even the fucking Discovery Channel has one available for it’s loyal couch potato academics. It’s like every charitable organization in the whole wide world has a new color-coded bracelet to brand their supporters with. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if there are little denim blue ones with ‘Just Say No to Pants’ for those whom may be avid about not wearing pants. No charity or cause is too stupid or too insignificant it seems - somehow, the little silicon rubber bracelet legitimacizes the charity as a valid concern among the socially conscious members of society.
Big-fucking-whoop!
Which brings us full circle to his current girlfriend Sheryl Crow. Apparently, Sheryl found what makes her happy when she hooked up with ‘ol Lance baby. Everyday may be a winding road, but I bet her days and nights are filled with intense multiple orgasm straightaway's thanks to Lance’s miraculously healed super cajones.
Hell, I'd fuck the guy.
Yep, Lance Armstrong has it all – and I hate him for it. The only persona still alive in this galaxy that may even be even contend with Lance Armstrong for ultimate superiority in this lifetime would be Jack Lalanne. Now THAT would be a battle of epic proportions that would make Gilgamesh’s battle with the Bull of Heaven seem like a preschool hissy fit.
Ultimately, the safe bet is still on Lance Armstrong though. He'll carve his name into Lalanne's belly with a bicycle spoke and defeat him by judgement of Thunderdome!
* That means "yellow jersey", you schmuck.
** AUTISM is a fucking charity - since when? Those squirrely little fuckers can probably count an entire box of spilled toothpicks in a split second; that's not a disability!
3 Comments:
I think my soul is still intact but I think it will be going to Hell along with yours...See you there!
What a great post! I really needed a good laugh, and you have provided it.
I haven't been around in a long time because I have very limited computer access. Glad you're still writing, though.
Lance will always be considered "a great human being". His appearance in Dodgeball and his countless Letterman appearances (though he looked a little fat there) has guaranteed him a spot next to Michael Jordan and Judge Ito.
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