Le Sigh the France

Ok, folks. Let's - for a minute - forget that cycling enjoys the same societal acceptance as two-armed outdoor onanism at the moment and that some psychopathic Texan just took an explosive crap all over the sport, while the man supposed to run it doesn't realized that he's also completely full of it. Let that all be little details to worry about later, because:

The ASO has presented next years Tour de France. Hosianna!

Now let's for a moment assume that cycling will not have sunken so deep that next year's Tour will be broadcast on the Porn Channel with an X-rate and we all have to pay for it in shady roadside Motels. Let's just assume it will return on Eurosport or any other channel in countries where pro-cycling hasn't  been outlawed or throughly bumfucked yet.

Let's have a look at it, shall we? Let's start with the good things.

1. The profile

While this year's tour was tailor made for Sky's poster boy Mr. Ridiculous Sideburns, next year's tour will most likely see Froome in the team leader's position (assuming he hasn't confessed to some chemichal misdeeds by then). The time triallists will be utterly disappointed with it. There are three time trials, but they could be won by just about anyone who has good legs that day.
The first one is a team event and it's only 25km long, although I'm not sure the word 'long' is really applicable here. So at least it won't be wreaking havoc in the GC as earlier such events have done in Tours past.
The second one is 33km long and will probably be just about long enough to favour the big engines - Sideburns, Froome, Spartacus or Martin (if he somehow manages to stay on his bloody bike next year)
The third one is a humdinger. 32km mountain timetrial. 12km of climbing in it. If any of the Schlecks, Froome or Contador should still be unbanned by the time, one of them will nick that one. Just think about it - a Schleck could actually not suck donkeyballs in a time trial. That alone is worth my time.

Sorry mate, have run out of good things to make up so there be a RANT.

What in the name of all that's holy were Prudhomme and his cronies smoking? They nail it spot on with reducing timetrial distance and then completely fuck it up by placing them in all the wrong places. Why isn't the team time trial the opening stage? The way they have constructed the route, the bloody jersey will go directly to a sprinter sissy - most likely to Mark Horseteeth, because he's psychopathic enough to simply wreck the others, like he did in last years Tour de Suisse.
The first week of a Tour has always been utter boredom to begin with: Some poor idiots waste a perfectly usable day of their life out in the wind, while we see a mad dash at the end between 7 guys trying to kill each other even harder than the day before. It's called a sprint stage and bores the raw shit out of me. But at least we always had a bit of entertaining watching if one of the sprinter ladies would manage to claw back enough time on the prologue winner to be in yellow for a day before it went to a man, who's name has been stricken from existence lately. Next year it will go to the lady boy right away. *sigh*

Then there be the third, the mountain time trial, which one would expect on the penultimate day, setting up an epic showdown between whoever hasn't confessed to or been busted for doping yet. But, no, that would make entirely too much sense. There are thee more mountain finishes to follow it. Monsieur Prudhomme, if that what thee smoked this morning art legal, send me some of that shit.
In one foul swoop, he shafts viewers and barroudeurs alike. The users, because the GC contenders will ride half-arsed to avoid being burnt out on the last three finishes. And the barroudeurs (that be folks like Jens Voigt, the one hundred eleventy year old V8 engine from Berlin), because they don't get a chance to grab a stage in the last week.

Seriously ASO, you guys suck donkeyballs.

And now for something completely different...

I've been a cycling nut all my life. I've learned to ride a bike when I was just old enough to stop crapping my diapers - ok, my mother brutalizing the raw crap out of me when I failed the first time might have sped up my progress a bit. But anyways. Even now at age 38, weighing more than Belgium, I still love a good bike ride.
And I love watching the Tour de France on TV. Lovely Landschaft, epic mountain stages, the lot. But there was this pissy arrogant Yank who took a crap all over the race.
I was fairly neutral towards Armstrong until that 2004 stage where he buttfucked poor Simeoni in plain view of the camera. At that point I started to hate the shithead with a passion. I fucking hate bullies. Me getting perpetually getting beat up at school by playground bullies might have contributed to it. It's just such a soothing feeling. After the bully beat the raw crap out of you at school, you arrive at home and your mother goes apeshit and beats you up with just about anything she can lift high enough - Iron pans were our lucky days back at the time.
Don't think I'm doing the drama queen here - it happened and I have 4 months in a psychiatric clinic, being treated for depression, to show it. Little household hint - if you find yourself in the loonie bin, make sure the doc doesn't tick the 'suicidal' checkbox on your patient form. It's no fun tying to have a wee with someone else looking over your shoulder to make sure you don't off yourself with the chain on the fucking toilet flush!

I digress...

Anyway. Five years ago It came to light that Team Terrorkom and Jan Ullrich were serial cheats and cycling in Germany was truly and thoroughly fucked. Admitting to a cycling enthusiasm since then was just about the same as telling people 'I like to fuck sheep. Push them to the edge of the cliff, They'll push back.' And just as you think that things are starting to return to normal, Armstrongs monumentally drugged up arse appears on the horizon and shits the fuck all over the place.

So what did we learn since Oct. 10th? Armstrong cheated, blackmailed team mates into doping, physically assaulted Tyler Hamiton, bribed Phat Mcquid and the UCI, applied psychoterror to Levy Leipheimers wife, slandered Franky Andreu's wife. Sweet Jebus on a Pogo stick - I thought I was messed up!! This guy is a certifiable psychopath!

What do the media do? Well they're diddling the family jewels and apart from that they're doing diddly squat! Bribery McQuid had a jolly funny press conference, threw Armstrong under the bus and said everything's fine in UCI-land. Whae'Aye Man. Ever heard of Comical Ali? You make the dude look like Hemingway you idiot! Seriously, the day Phat pat is thrown to the wolves will be the day I relieve myself all over my keyboard. And you know what? He's doing it all by himself. He wouldn't know common sense if it danced stark-naked in front of him, so sooner or later that Irish idiot will make himself obsolete.

Cycling will have have a wild party that day, punk!