September 30, 2010
quote out of context
[Clenbuterol] is a substance that does not help performance, and this (tiny) quantity is completely insignificant to improve physical improvement.
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[Clenbuterol] is a substance that does not help performance, and this (tiny) quantity is completely insignificant to improve physical improvement.
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what do you think?
I forgot to tell you. Cindy and I have decided to submit you to a drug test.
I just got an email from Walt asking the same question and I’m not quite sure yet.
Initially, I’m not that surprised. I’ve never much liked Contador so it’s not hitting me the same way the Landis positive did. I will not be surprised if UCI determines this was not a result of food contamination.
The good news is that these guys are getting caught now which could go a long way to helping clean up the sport (or encouraging cheaters to find new ways to cheat).
Walt asked if I even cared about professional cycling anymore and my response is that I do. My big concern is that cases like this impact the popularity of cycling in America.
I’m a little all over the map right now but about 3 minutes after reading about Contador this morning I saw this and it made me feel a lot better.
I’ve been peeing in a cup every morning just in case but I’m not sure if I can Fedex you the samples. Does anybody know what the rules are about shipping urine?
Yeah. Send those to Cindy.
Sorry, Michael, I just assumed you were the one who’s been sending me urine all along. Don’t panic; it’ll be okay. If the FBI shows up at your office today, just tell them to call me. DO NOT GO WITH THEM UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
How do I know if they’re here because of that?
Show them one of the cups. Maybe hold it next to your face, shake it a little, and lift your eyebrows, the palm of your other hand up.
Yeah, do that. And I changed my mind–don’t tell them to call me.
Shit. Deron, don’t tell Michael, but I think they’re onto me about my former job as a sex worker.
You’ll have to stop teaching art classes to elementary kids, Cindy. Bloomberg told me so.
Oh, he just wants to fire me from the teaching job? Whew. Okay, then. Michael, you can go ahead and tell the FBI to call me again. I’ll explain everything to them. I also have inside information on that cyclist dude everyone’s so worked up about.
Yeah, he’s pissed you’re going on the book tour and how come you never call any more.
Same ol’.
Fucker.
I’m sick of those kids, anyway. They don’t know their penises from their fingers.
I hear Michael has the same problem.
Cindy, when you were a sex worker did you go by the name of Sindy?
Close. Sin’Dee.
Sorry, I was spelling it the English way.
No, wait. I misremembered.
Sin’D
I didn’t sign my name all that much.
Sin’D deserves to be on a shop front. Did you offer any other services? I guess sex worker is all encompassing!
What’s going on here? I step away for a minute to fill up a 1 gallon milk jug with urine and suddenly I’m the victim of vicious attacks. Deron, I can assure you, my fingers are not large enough to make that mistake.
Calm your little self down, Michael.
Phil, I did initially offer hair services, but I found I made more money on blow jobs. I always let the market decide.
Wise move, Cindy. There’s no future in hair.
Michael. I think the FBI are here. Quick. Drink all the evidence.
Or, Michael, piss into it. Contaminate the evidence!
I quit this job. Too much stress.
[...] the transportation of urine in an uncapped [...]
Cindy, I offer you this toast on your final day with us. Don’t mind the smell that’s from the asparagus.
Ooh, asparagus on toast.
Tapas.
Pequeñas cosas. Comestible.
Mmmnh.