Category: Crime
Lanced
It may be the only fight he ever walked away from. Still, you have to hand it to the guy.
Had Big Tex gone to arbitration the outcome probably would have been the same, but he’d have come out looking like he’d done a thousand-mile low crawl through a Third World leach field. This way he remains as clean — on the outside, anyway — as is humanly possible. Lance Armstrong, Cancer Killer.
It’s a cliche, of course, but I think it would have been good for the sport to have had a no-holds-barred, bare-knuckle fistfight over the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency’s charges and a final decision at the Court of Arbitration for Sport. We could point at something then, claim to have an answer, even if it was the wrong one.
This way, the thing will never end. Believers will continue to believe, and haters continue to hate. Nothing has changed.
And for the immediate future, at least, nobody will give a shit about what happens in the Vuelta a España, the USA Pro Challenge or any other two-wheeled sporting competition. They’ll all be gazing upon Cancer Jesus, hanging up there on the carbon-fiber-and-titanium cross that he’s built for himself.
Splish, splash, I’ll be takin’ the cash
Well, shit. Some crazy bastard tried to rob my favorite grog shop last night.
Dude pops in, squirts a clerk and a customer with lighter fluid and demands cash. Clerk says something along the lines of “Kiss my ass,” the bandit tries to come around the counter, and another clerk produces a baseball bat. Exit bandit, stage left.
It was the second attempt in less than 24 hours at robbery by flamethrower, too. Dude actually got money from a hotel clerk the first time around. Grog-shop clerks must be made of sterner stuff.
And times must be harder than I thought. It’s usually all knives and guns around here. Hell of a note when the bandits have to retire their PPKs and go all BBQ on a citizen.

