Internet potpourri (Part 2)






Sometimes I think that credit cards should come with a "douchebag protection program" so that if you tried to buy a gold crucifix, a Mapei kit, Mapei glasses, Mapei hat, Mapei Colnago, a baby blue Ipod shuffle, a girdle, and two bike computers in one day, it would automatically cut you off.



"Jesus Danilo, put the gun down. I didn't say you were a euro serial date-rapist. I merely said you looked like one."




Mounting a tire and not having its logo line up with the valve stem is not a huge deal. But fast forward three years, and you'll be the gender-less creature riding down the street with your Nana's dress on. Just sayin', it all starts somewhere.




Dude, I know you have the same right to wear that costume as the rest of us...but could you please go home, unload two of the four Rabobank bottles and change clothes please? We're laughing so hard, that we're getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.





Man, I thought closeted goth kids in high school were the only ones who creepily hung out at cemeteries while they cried. I guess being a third rate pro is just as hard as being a closeted goth kid in high school. Awww.




Caption 1:
If you need a gay mariachi to perform at your kid's birthday party, tell me. I know a guy.

Caption 2:
"Seriously, next year I'm finally gonna' tell Riis to fuck off. I'm skipping the Vuelta and going to Burning Man to hang with my fellow elegant gothic aristocrats."





When your whole existence consists of posing for pictures with douchebags who tuck their Loony-Toons t-shirts into their sweatpants, I can see how having to kiss Lance Armstrong's ball/s in public really seems like a minimal nuisance in comparison.




Tom! Watch out! Two of the animals from the petting zoo got out!






My brother just designed a new kit for the Ashley Schaffer BMW cycling team. Nice huh? Don't know who Ashley Schaffer is? Watch this video and learn. Also remember, my brother has a podcast. New episode is up now.



Pellizotti says:
"Sir, how dare you challenge my title of biggest euro-dochebag by driving your white Lamborghini while I'm in town. How dare you! Repent now, or face the fury of my day-glo kit."



Will this picture finally settle the whole Merckx vs. Armstrong* argument? Check Merckx out, tempting cancer like "What'd you say bitch? Come here and say it to my face!" Seriously, those rumors that were flying around last week about Merckx having had caner were partially true. I mean, cancer tried...but Eddy ate its face. Smokestrong.

*To my knowledge no such argument exists, but it made the caption work better.





Right now, in a hotel room somewhere, Hincapie and Cadel Evans are trading stories about how they were forced to "eat shit" when they were in other teams. Suddenly, Evans begins to cry uncontrollably and announces "No, no. I don't think you don't understand. I'm not saying I had to 'eat shit' as a figure of speech. In Silence Lotto, they made me eat actual human shit before races."