Is it just me or is Lance Armstrong a big old honkin’ snooze-fest?
I know the man went up against impossible odds to beat a deadly form of cancer, and then went on to break the Tour De France record for number of wins… that’s really incredible stuff. Really… I want to like him, I do. I want to care, but I’m just so totally not interested at all.
I mean, the guy goes on and on about his psychic love affair with his team (and there’s no “i” in team) and how he’s “still talking every day” with his crew even though he’s officially retired, and while not out raising money for cancer research, raising awareness about cancer in general, bicycle racing, or the Tour de France, Lance is considering going into politics. Also, his heart is five times the size of an ordinary human being, he has two children, and lives in Austin Texas (speaking of texas, did you hear that Bo Bice broke his foot at a concert recently, but decided to continue on with the tour? Awesome! Now there’s a real man. Forget this bicycle sissy crap! No, wait… Bo’s not from Texas… He’s from Alabama. Nevermind.)
Why do I know all this?
How did I get this information?
I don’t care…
He’s just another cracker from Texas… I’m getting really, very, totally, overly sick of anything that comes seeping up out of the ground from Texas these days… What with the spawn of Satan in the oval office and his creepy little twinkle when he looks up from the speech he’s reading (that he didn’t write) as if there were a team of fat bald men making silent clapping gestures toward him for reading so well… good boy! good boy!!! Frankly, I think we’ve had just about enough of the offspring of the Beverly Hillbillies for one lifetime, thank you very much. We don’t need a boring, close cropped, farmer-tanned, distraction (who may be using steroids I hear from those who have no idea what they’re talking about.)
Finally, as if the name “Lance” isn’t lame enough, the dude’s got the same last name as my short lived, but highly anticipated christmas hit of 1975: Stretch Armstrong.
1, 2, 3, tear…
tears…
“Oooh, cool, it’s orange inside.”
Neat-O!
5 Comments
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Do you realize that new Fantastic Four doll is just a poor Stretch Armstrong rip off? Do they think no one remembers?
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oh, poor lance!! yes, in the end, he did just ride a bicycle. but, truly, it’s no less valid than hitting a ball with a bat or, better yet, just smashing into another 300lb. guy!
it’s the texas part that gets me. we should have let that damn state go when we had the chance!!!
;)
love, m
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Sometimes I wonder if it isn’t actually better to have our nemesese as close to us as possible. I mean, imagine if the state’s motto was: No ensucie con Tejas…
We might have a much more vibrant, ongoing war on our hands… arguably we might not even be a 50 state, multi-territory nation. We potentially might have lost Kentucky, Alabama, New Mexico, and other precious additions to our great nation of burger munching fatties if we hadn’t had the verve and fire power to reclaim Tejas as our very own.
To be fair, No ensucie con Tejas translates back into English as “Don’t soil the roofing tiles”
But really, what could be more appropriate?
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i hear you. i really like lance, the concept, but lance, the man, is duller than reading a gum wrapper.
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Who cares if he is from Texas. He is the best in his field.
As an afficionado, I will miss his yearly quest in the tour de France. And without his team, he could never win, and he knows it.
Jack