Yawn… “Rest Week” is now over, with a restful 400km’s in the bank, glad I got to lie about in the pool pretending to look for a job… wait… Move along, move along. Time for a Dirty Random Round Up.

Still not a lot going down here in the Global Hub, but it did turn out that after 4 years there are still some roads that I haven’t ridden here, some even come equipped with sort of a coast line and palm trees, the Meo GP kit making a global appearance for a very different kind of round the bays. Yeah I know #yourblogisbecomingarehashofyourinstagramfeed:


The peaceful buzz of heavy industry on a Sunday morning

In terms of next level excitement and intrigue, the only thing I can really throw out there today in the Dirty Jigsaw puzzle is this little scrap retrieved from a Bothan spy. WTF? 1A? Who is large enough or important enough to warrant such exclusivity? And why are they going to Sydney? Is the name in the top right a give away? What is going on? SO many questions… so few weird answers:


“Achtung, you have spelt my title wrong! Dolt! Its with a K!!”

More cryptic than an old persons cross word that shit… Stay tuned and keep them eyes peeled gang.

About the biggest happenings over the weekend was the first REAL classic of the year… Milan San Remo, a 300km rain slut fest that looked colder than a bald patch in winter, speaking of which:


Its SO satisfying watching others getting spanked by someone on a Team Evo instead of actually having it done to you

The only down side? Well… Not to be a hater, BUT, I did leave the bar at midnight feeling a little deflated that a relative no name won the first big one of the year. Happiness = Cancellara, Sagan or Cav taking home the goodies (Cav just has motivation to get home ASAP), but when its someone where people say “He was due a big one”, that for me translates into “hasn’t really done much”.

Yes, I know, fucking bar couch critic and all, but the other downer moment was that it was won by someone from Katusha. They would solidly rank somewhere down by a dogs ass in terms of team popularity in my book, large question marks around training methods being a concern and of course, their number one fan is currently putting in a stout bid for the Cunt of the Year award that DN shall be hosting:


“Idiots, I said U-Turn not Ukraine… Cry me a river”

But there are more concerning issues than cycling Geopolitics and baseless vague accusations of juicing. Yes, there are heinous acts of crime against cycling fashion being committed. I am a long time Oakley fan boy and non-signed semi PRO rider, but I am sorry guys, this rehashing of the 80’s shit has to fucking stop ASAP. Want to get pushed off your bike, then get some of these glasses:


“They paid me a lot of money… A LOT… Plus I am not very good”

I thought this was as bad as it could get, but then Wolf rightful pointed out that you can actually take it to the next level by combining awful glasses with the worst invention to hit the cycling worlds since 27.5 inch MTB wheels… Yes, the Aero Helmet. Forget the crashes, forget the attacks, forget who dropped the wheel – Cunt of Milan San Remo award has found a home right here with this stellar ensemble of wretchedness:


“My Directeur Sportif fucking hates me… Which is why he made me cover up my jersey”

Yes, basically appears that he has shoved his head in Brainy Smurf’s ass and stolen his specs before heading out from the team bus, hopefully whilst being slapped by his team mates. Please, stop that shit immediately (the helmet/glasses combo, not the slapping). Fucking legend of the day award goes to Alessandro De Marchi though, stringing it out like a beast on the Cipressa, even staying on duty to help with containing a rampant attacking Nibbles who also deserves a special mention:


“If you prove yourself here Alessandro you can go and ride with the Cannasia boys in Bintan… Play your cards right”

Bring on the rest of the classics… And a return to normal training this week.

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