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A hormonally depraved rant about Le Tour 2009...so far

 


Stuff002220620081222190742_medium This is just totally self indulgent of me!

It's Tuesday morning for me in Adelaide. I woke up after a storm disturbed Rest-Day sleep catch-up slumber to find enough hail-stones to make snowballs to torment the dogs with. It's so cold I've just ordered a Huggie online and I'm searching out the old Mavic GP4's dressed with Continental Super Canoes for any prospective ride today...looks like the drought's broken! I was going to have an early night but Flight of The Concords and a moonlight mountain bike ride along the river track  on the old Klein Adroit (gotta love that paint-job) put paid to that, so I'm not quite recovered enough for tonight's stage yet. I've also got a buttock full of hormones so i keep pulling that Floyd Landis face at the dogs when i beat them to the back door...they hate that.

Despite being what one could be described as 'not being at one's best to provide social and sporting commentary to the masses' here are my  top ten deranged views of the Tour so far.

Number one natural high for me has to be that absolutely gorgeous road from Barcelona up towards Andorra.  I was taking every turn with them...I would have been the one 'whoop whooping' in the tunnels just to get a buzz out of the echo. A song called 'Close To The Edge' by Yes was on my random playlist...must remember that for when I go there and ride it. And how was sitting a foot in front of the big screen and doing Spartacus's chase through the support crews after he flatted...awesome.

Number two has been the funny shit that people have been discussing.  Is he? Are they? Will they? Should they? Haven't had this much of a laugh since Melrose Place!! I wonder what the media would say? (NB...am on self imposed media ban apart from visual images and soundless Advertising)

Number three is the sizes of the noses of some of the riders this year  Surely this has to be an unfair physiological advantage...like a friggin turbo charger for the lungs when fully flared.  Jen Grey only lost the stage by a nose but tactically she really had to get her nose in front around that last corner, and as soon as Fedrigo got a sniff of victory it was over.  There has been an improvement in the standard of Dental standards though!

Number four was Monaco.  I wonder if they're looking for partially deaf Paramedics that don't speak fluent French and if they provide accomodation?

Number five is that no one's talking drugs and that the caffeine is working for me. I've only fallen asleep once so far and only for a couple of minutes, but I did miss Moncoutie riding on the front apparently..bugger!

Number six is Bradley Bloody Wiggins...i've been watching him perform a faultless performance thus far.  OK, he like many of the others missed that break on stage three but that was a roll of the dice man!  And this is an Aussie speaking of a pom...more guts than his weak livered cricket team!

Number Seven has been this advertisement we have on Aussie TV during the tour for a television that has something that you can turn back time on called a hard drive or something (must get me one of those when I make the time).  It has this wanky ponce putting (hmmm is thwere a better term for the small golf stroke?) a golf ball on his lush back lawn in front of his McMansion.  A man in a Spanish looking Lycra suit pushing his  2008 Trek Madone 6.5 Pro similar to the ones that I myself and Miss Pendleton have ridden walks up to the man and says

"Matt...the peleton are ready to begin stage ten" in a ridiculous French accent.

Images_mediumvia tbn2.google.com

 Some dialogue goes on between them and it seems as if the wanky putter wants the guys in the peleton who are now standing outside this guys house to rewind to Stage seven, the mountain stage because he nodded off while watching it on the TV!! It's totally understandable for the man impersonating Tom Steels to chuck the bottle at him it's a ridiculous concept!  Wouldn't make me want to buy one!

Number eight has been the fact that even after fourteenth months off work through being a deaf old bastard I still have the guile to wangle my three week 'Self directed learning' block of my return to work programme for a certain three weeks in July...I still got it!!  Not only that, i can now hear the whirring of the wheels and the clicking of the gears with my new fangled ear. But until I can get an eliminate banal chatter and commentary fuck ups programme on the implant i'll make do with a little Radiohead!!

Number nine has been Lance....he just seems to be enjoying himself to me and it's a pleasure to watch someone who is able to just switch off the pressures of the world and enjoy riding a bike...a true inspiration.

Finally it's just been the fact that it's Tour time and no amount of personal shit, sleep deprivation, hormonal battles, bad weather, flat tires or wankers with radical views are gonna bring me down from my annual pilgrimage to bike heaven. 

Adios Mr Morose!!!!

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