Professional Cycling Never Fails to Entertain

It's like the most deliciously, juicy episode of my favorite, trashy, soap opera.  Some people have General Hospital or Gossip Girl.  I have professional cycling.



Let me be perfectly clear: I am 100% certain that many many many competitive cyclists use performance enhancing drugs.  And yet, I still adore professional cycling.  That they use PEDs is as non-controversial to me as the fact that they use aerodynamics labs to fine-tune their form.  Doping is part of the culture of the sport.  And I don't give a damn.  I still love Lance Armstrong.  I will always love Tyler Hamilton.

Because, even with the drugs, what those men do is astonishing.  Mind-boggling.  Super-human.  Above all, it's immensely entertaining.

And that's all I want from cycling.  Another juicy installment in the on-going soap opera.

I think you have the wrong number.

A caller who had the wrong number tried to hit on me the other night.  He was trying to call his sister but upon finding me on the line instead, he asked if I "had a man."

Seriously?

Is this really how men's brains operate? If I had told him I did not "have a man," how exactly did he foresee the rest of the conversation going?