Happy post Valentine's Day

Well folks, after nearly 2 weeks of blanking you all, I'm back to say happy V-Day.

Riding has been non-existent in the past few weeks. There's just too much to do with moving into a new home and starting workk. I take solace in the fact that I get VS on DirecTV and can follow Velonews. In the world of cycling, there's loads of news: Valverde being questioned by CONI, the Tour of California starting, and, as of this morning, Lance Armstrong's Livestrong time trial bike being stolen out of the team trailer.

Now, allow me to editorialize a little bit here. Whoever you are who is now in possession of an ten thousand dollar bike, you are a scumbag. You're the worst of the worst, a thief of the absolute lowest class and an affront to humanity. Who the hell is so unconscionable that they steal a bike covered in numbers representing cancer deaths? I mean, really. So much for cycling being the sport of the wealthy and high class.

I hope the Twitterati find you sir. I hope they catch up to you while you're trying to unload this beautiful and psychologically inspiring piece of carbon fibre in a dark alley to some shady hot merchandise fencer. I hope they teach you a medieval lesson in all the best Pulp Fiction-esque manners they can possibly begin to think of.

Or, you could bring it back, leave a note of apology and beg for forgiveness from the human race for existing.

*Sigh* It makes me wonder why we as general humanity haven't gone to hell in a hand basket yet.

Just a quick note?

Moving sucks. That's a foregone conclusion in most circles, but it's always magnified when you're the sucker that's sucking up a move. Coordinating help, dealing with surly family members who don't want to be bothered to help you move the mess that they partially helped create, and ever-present issues with landlords (both new and old) and utility companies all combine into a vicious stew of suck that is necessarily consumed only to cause an epic case of "life diarrhea." That's right, you become "ol' gravy legs" in an instant when you sign about 4 months of your life away and commit to this atrocity of human existence. I'd prefer to slam my face in a garage door given the chance, but I suppose it is all part of the ebb and flow of life.

That being said...I'm going to sit down, immerse myself in articles about the Tour Down Under and try to forget this truckload of life-poop that's been shoveled into my lap.

Oh, and for the record...

FUCK THE EAGLES. McNabb, you inaccurate son of a whore, get out. Now. And take fatso Andy Reid with you.

Oh god, I need to ride the trainer and get some anger out...

I love William's Sonoma

What a great place. I'd love to have one of these for the wine snob in me, or perhaps one of these for the post ride entertainment.

In cycling news, it looks like the ice storm here in the north east will as yet prevent any outdoor riding. So that means I'm surfing Velonews and found this gem:

In a year of the comeback, perhaps it’s inevitable that Michael Rasmussen will join the band of riders pedaling back into the fray.

So "pulled from le Tour because he lied to his own team" is expecting that someone will come back and sponsor him? I can't believe that he's expecting to have an easy time coming back. I mean, it's one thing if you're someone like Ivan Basso, who served his two years and was a main rival of the top tier riders when he left the scene, but Chicken wasn't a huge winner of anything except the unlucky lottery.

In fact, he know this:
“It all depends on who wants to have me and where I want to be employed. It doesn’t make sense for me to sign with an Italian team if I want to race the Vuelta. My main goal is still to race the grand tours and we’ll see if I can find a suitable employer. I am confident.”

You keep being confident, Chicken. I'm sure you'll end up with some continental team, and have all kinds of chances to win Grand Tours.

On that note, time to go find some non-William's Sonoma produced coffee.