In some incredibly important news (that the Easter Bunny for Fox! who
needs to know that the criminal regime is unravelling before our eyes,
with only the fervent support of the Democrats allowing them to stay
out of jail) I learned that Lance Armstrong and Cheryl Crowe broke up!
I guess the talented peacenik with the incredibly bad taste in men got
tired of hanging with a narcissistic doping Bush-loving jerk. I read
the following on a sports rant website, and it tickled me quite a bit.
It made a lot of other people unhappy, but I get the sense nobody
really likes Armstrong, they just think he's the guy who's jamming a
thumb in the eye of the French people. Childish shits.
Lance Armstrong: The Revised Story - May 26th, 2004
I was going to let this go to the recycle bin, but I have been asked
to submit it again. The views expressed in this story have no
connection with the views of the Owner, Administrators, or Webmaster
of Sportsrant.com.
This is the classic case of a piece of shit riding the bicycle of
success too far. I grew up with Lance. He was born in a small southern
town, and his family was just like everyone else's. His parents were
divorced and his mother raised him. She should have chopped his balls
off when he was young, but no, she let him keep them.
Growing up, Lance was an absolute asshole to everyone. Girls swooned
over him, and he treated all of us like dirt. He would ask a girl out
and make her day, just to turn around and sleep with her friend or
sister. He was a man-whore. He could not keep that tiny little thing
is his pants if his life depended on it.
It wasn't just the girls he pissed on, it was the guys too. Lance
didn't have many friends. He spent all of his time riding his bike,
and looking at himself in a mirror. Between classes he would go to his
locker and do his hair in the mirror. This was his hourly routine. No
guys wanted to hang out with a narcissistic scumbag.
Lance shit on his mother too. She continually bought him bicycles to
ride, as that was all he was interested in. He began riding great
distances, and on more than one occasion, he rode all the way to
Oklahoma, and was too tired to ride home. Undoubtedly, his mother had
to drop what she was doing and drive across state lines to pick him
up. We all wished she would just leave him there, but she never did.
During our senior year, Lance moved away. We didn't know or care at
the time, but we later learned he moved to Colorado (good place for
him) to tryout for the Olympics. Lance made the Olympic team and
turned pro. He was not famous, since no one really cares about
bicycling, and he really wasn't very good. He continually finished
dead last, or close too it, and the world did not know or care who
Lance Armstrong was.
In 1996 after yet another miserable Olympic performance, Lance was
diagnosed with testicular cancer that had spread to his brain. It
could be argued that the cancer spread to his brain from the close
proximity of his balls to his head while it was up his ass, but no one
will ever really know. In the end, they removed his testicles and
treated him with chemotherapy, and Lance beat the cancer. At this
point in his life, it was the first time he was a winner.
Lance made a comeback in the bicycling circuit, and started winning
races. He has won several Tour de France's and many other races that I
do not know or care about. Suddenly, the world wanted to know whom
this "fighter" was. Lance was a celebrity, and I was stunned. If the
world knew what an asshole this guy really is, they would not be
kissing his ass repeatedly. Some things have not changed though.
The way Lance went through women in high school appears to be a trend
with him. He has left his wife and three children. Apparently, with
fame, you have to have a famous wife. He is reportedly dating Cheryl
Crowe. She can have him.
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