I read this morning that Floyd Landis has traces of a synthetic substance in the blood sample that was taken after his unprecedented, super-human performance at the Tour de France. You know why I feel for him?
When I was a teenager, my parents went out of town now and again. When I was old enough (say 16 or so) I started to have friends over when they were gone to party. I would be shocked if they actually believed that I wouldn't when they did go out of town.
I remember one time they came home, I was in a folding chair on the front lawn with a few of my less than academic friends. We were 18, it was a beautiful day and we were liquified into these chairs. Normally of the Cycle 2 variety (i.e., very active, we were hung over slugs).
Inside, my mom and dad's super nice bedspread was in the washing machine (yes in the washing machine) because...one of my friends had dumped an entire cup of tobacco spit on it....oy! The floors were stickier than a movie theater floor after a weekend festival for The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
And, I had the audacity to stand...neigh sit, in front of them and claim that nothing had happened. We all knew I was lying, or at least stretching the truth. I remember exactly how it felt...rather disarming, but somewhat humorous that I would ever consider trying to pull it off.
I bet that's how Floyd Landis feels right now.
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