Archive for July 27th, 2006

Much like every other cyclist who anyone’s ever heard of, Floyd Landis is in a little bit of pee-pee trouble. He tested positive for an unusual amount of testosterone, and… you know what, I just don’t care.

And it’s not because I don’t care about cycling, or that I hate the Tour de France, in fact, I actively followed Floyd’s pursuit of the yellow jersey, and I found his story to be pretty damn inspirational. And I mean inspirational in the sense that it really might have inspired someone other than me who cared more about cycling or had any kind of ambition.

Rather, here’s the reason I can’t make myself care about this: cycling is so tainted, so drug-infested, that I think you’ve just got to accept it as part of the deal. How many of the top riders were banned from this race right before it began? It just the way things are. And I’m not pointing a finger at cycling, I know other sports have their problems, with in recent cycling history, hey, the needle is there. Doping is to cycling, as ground balls are to baseball, the nickel defense is to football, or super-absorbent maxi-pads are to the WNBA. For better or for worse, it’s a part of it.

My opinion of Floyd Landis hasn’t lowered a bit. I mean, I hope he didn’t do it, but even if he did, he certainly wasn’t the only one in the field, he still beat everyone else, and he still did it with a hip that’s mangled worse than the Knicks salary cap. I’m not saying that I assumed he was dirty beforehand, but I didn’t assume he was clean, either. All I assumed was that he was a cyclist, and thus, under the cloud of “maybe/maybe not, but let’s just see who’s the fastest anyway.” It was Floyd, his comeback was still manly as hell, no matter what turns up in his urine, he’s still a bad-ass.

Maybe that’s a bit too skeptical of me, and maybe it’s not fair to put all cyclists in that same category. And hey, I’d like to believe that purity is possible in cycling, and maybe someday, that’ll be the case. But for right now, to me, believing with 100% certainty that any pro cyclist is clean is about the same as believe that Mark McGwire was clean, too.

Hi everyone! My name is Snugglicious J. Snuggleton! But YOU can call me SNUGGLES! I LOVE it when people call me Snuggles. It means we’re friends! And you can never have too many friends!

Let me tell you about another friend of mine. His name is Alonzo Mourning, but he lets ME call him ‘ZO! Do you know why he lets me call him that? Well, I’ll tell you why. Because we’re FRIENDS! And I know it might seem strange to some people that a big strong basketball player like ‘Zo and a cute cuddly little guy like myself could be friends, but I don’t think it’s weird at all!

Would it be OK if I told you a story? GOOD! I love stories! I used to be friends with a little girl in Toronto named Emily! She was SOOOOO nice! She would hug me every night when she got home from school, and we’d hang out all evening until it was bedtime. But one day Emily saw on the news that a big strong basketball player was really sick. And even though she didn’t know who he was, she felt bad for him, and she thought it would make him feel better if she sent him a cute teddy bear to cheer him up. So she did! And that teddy bear was ME!

It was a little bit strange at first. Zo was really sick, and lots of people were sending him things, but he took one look at me and noticed that the package came from Toronto, and he threw me on the ground and said, “Toronto? Screw Toronto.” And that made me said. But then ‘Zo got better and we became really close friends!

And I got to be friends with some of ‘Zo’s friends, too! One time, ‘Zo had a party, and Antoine Walker drank a whole bunch of Smirnoff Ice and he fell asleep in Alonzo’s bedroom! And he woke up in the middle of the night, and he was crying because he said that “no one understands the mindset of a volume shooter,” and then he picked up ‘Zo’s razor and pretended like he was going to kill himself, but then he hugged me and cried for a little while longer, and everything was OK! He does this twice a week!

But sometimes, I’m not sure if ‘Zo needs me to love him, because he loves himself SOOOOOOOO much! He doesn’t let me sleep in his bed the way Emily used to. Most of the time, I’m just stuffed in box in the bottom of his closet. And there’s a note attached to me that reads, “From a little girl who worships me. Emily. Toronto. Call her in 12 years.”

I do see some crazy things sometimes! In ‘Zo’s bedroom, there are eight different framed MOURNING jerseys all over the wells, and a recording of the Miami Heat announcer saying Zo’s name on a continuous loop. It’s weird!

And sometimes when Alonzo leaves the closet door open, and I can see all the way down into his private gym where he works out! His muscles sure are big! I think it’s strange that all the walls in that room are mirrors, and he always works out naked! And when he goes in there, the first thing he does is grab a bottle of oil and start rubbing it on himself until he’s all shiny. Then sometimes he stands in front of the mirror and he does curls without any clothes on, and he says, “Oh, that’s it, ‘Zo. Look at you. God DAMN you look good, bicep. Mmmm.” And then his thingie gets hard! That’s REALLY weird! I miss Emily when he does that.

But he does LOTS of weird stuff like that! He’s an unusual guy, but we all are, in our own ways! When People Magazine named him one of their 50 Most Beautiful People, he bought 4,000 copies! He wanted to wallpaper the entire house with them, but his wife wouldn’t let him. But once or twice a week, he gets out one of those magazines and then he takes his clothes off and gets like he does when he’s doing nude curls, and, well, let’s just say there’s a reason I have this raincoat on! I REALLY miss Emily when he does that!

I should go now. Have a great day everyone! TTYL! CYA!

Remember on the 72nd hole of the U.S. British Open, there were some bizarre purple splotches on the green? The vandals responsible for them were apprehended and yesterday, sentenced. One of the guys will be spending eight weeks in jail, and the other earned five weeks of unpaid community service.

They represented a group called “Real Fathers 4 Justice,” an organization that advocates for better treatment of Shawn Kemp. Okay, no they don’t. They advocate for father’s rights in child custody cases. And what better way to prove that you’re mature enough to be a good father than throwing paint bombs on the green at the British Open.

I’m sure that the British legal system was very impressed by your efforts, and they’re ready to consider letting you see your kids now, because you set such a great example. Way to think it through, dickheads. Earl Woods would’ve been proud of your paternal instincts.

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