Armstrong blows

wait, or does he get blown? or was that Bill? and who had the stain, in the end? was it Monica? or Hilary? or… what? Lance’s kids? ah dammit, crankpunk’s all confused.


still, no need to worry  because in just about a decade the world’s favorite reptile-human hybrid will be Our President (and when i say Our i mean America’s, by which i mean The World’s, by which I mean, as i wrote in the first place, Our). or at least, i think that’s what he’s on about.

yesterday’s version of VeloNation had the report about LA comparing himself to Bill Clinton, spinning a slippery, silvery, deep throat thread between his decade plus of serious PED abuse and attacks on just about everyone’s character with Ol’ Bill’s ‘misdemeanour’ – as delivered by the lips of one Monica Lewinsky.

never in the history of man has a blowjob been quite so good and yet so ultimately harmful, one suspects, even though, again, ultimately, Ol’ Bill ‘Check Out My Election Pole’ Clinton managed to wiggle out of it, much as about 3.68 million of his sperm also did, over and down Monica’s dress.


‘i love the Oral Office,’ said America’s sax-loving Prez at the time, which was all the time, with a wink and a nudge…

“Ultimately, people forgive and forget and remember the good stuff you did,” Armstrong said in an interview with Texas Monthly recently. “Is it hard to do? Yeah. But Clinton did it – he loves to work, he loves people, he loves to hustle.

“He’s a hero of mine. He’s a tough guy, he’s smart, surrounded himself with good people,” he said. “Like Johan, Pat, that doctor with the Ferrari, Hein and the Yes Crew,” he didn’t say but really should of.

In a moment that left me wondering just what planet LA actually lives on, he had the temerity to say: “It’s ‘Act 3.’ It’s all these things that people think about in Shakespearean terms.”

whuuuuuuuut? what was that Marx said? ‘Jesus my eyebrows are getting out of hand…’

Groucho, also a fan of cigars
Groucho: he too was orally fixated but not so big on dialectical materialism

no, the other Marx… ‘history repeats itself, first as tragedy, secondly as farce,’ that was it. LA’s story is that, more Marxian than Shakespearean. there are no redeeming features in LA’s story. it’s just a tragical farce, or maybe a farcical tragedy. but he doesn’t get to have an ‘Act 3′, right? well, he does if he has anything to do with it.

not content with taking up even more than his allocated oxygen supply for a lifetime, he soldiered on, hoisting more and more soil over his shoulder as an 8-man legal team mopped his sweaty brow.

“The stain’s not going away – my girls will grow into it. My two little ones will grow into it. This stain will live forever. I’ll never get rid of it,” he bleated. “I’ll just try and do the best for my family, my community, my constituency – whatever that may be…’

my CONSTITUENCY! i called this ages ago, LA for Governor. coming soon to a state full of loons near you.

“There are days,” he said, “I think, ‘I shouldn’t have done the interview (with Oprah)’. But then I see my kids, see the way they’re acting, the way they’re interacting. I see the way my son plays basketball, the way he hustles, the way he’s focused. I see a different kid.”

[cue images of apple pie, puppies, Liberty, the 4th of July, Mother Theresa french kissing an orphan back to life, a hamburger and fireworks that write ‘U.S.L.A!’ in the sky]

America, you cannot let this man back. you just can’t. please, whatever you do, just say no to crack – i mean, Lance… and crack, say no to crack too, but say no to Lance first…

to LanceCrack
to LanceCrack

Author: Lee Rodgers

Cycling coach, race organiser, former professional cyclist and the original CrankPunk.

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