Why Men Are More Like Lance Armstrong Than They Want To Admit

lance armstrong drugs cheat

“Do I look like I really care what you think of me?”

Lance Armstrong. Hero. Villain. Warrior. Survivor. Winner. Cheat. It’s hard to actually work out what he really is. Dedicated – sure. If you’re squeamish I don’t want to give you nightmares but this is a man who’s had more needles in his arm than a heroin addict. But next time you look in the mirror, stop for a moment and tell me what you see.

Can you see a man that would never stoop so low as Armstrong? Or do you see someone you don’t recognise? Someone that’s ready to lie, cheat and swindle to make it to the top. If you came up with the first option – you’re wrong. All men are built like Tour de France 3 times champion but you didn’t know it until now. Here’s why…

We All Want To Be Winners

Think you’re not built of the right stuff? You may not be and, in all likelihood, Lance didn’t quite have it either but he wanted it – badder than a drugs addicts need for the next fix. So your muscles don’t insert at the same place as an Olympian. Or maybe you parents forgot to pass on that vital chromosome that elevated you from caveman to humanity. Who cares – Mother Nature may have dealt you a cruel kick in the testicles before she ran off giggling but that doesn’t mean you’ve hit the evolutionary dead end…

extinct stuffed dodo

“Holy crap, you really mean it? This is the end of the line?”

No, because with a little ‘boost’ from substances such as EPO you can turn your body into a pure winning machine. Sure, you’ll probably end up urinating enough pharmaceuticals to put Proctor and Gamble out of business but who cares? YOu’ll be a winner. You’ll eradicate those feelings of that only losers know. You will get your ‘winners high’. Because, regardless of who you are, we all want to be winners. International businessmen want to win that big contract that will land them in clover for the rest of their lives. Tree huggers want to win the battle against the construction company planning to cut down a forest to make way for a new road.

swampy newbury bypass

To tree huggers the world over, Swampy is a god.

Don’t believe you want to win at something? Think again.

We Dream Of Wealth and Riches

Wealth and riches can give you the life you want. Most people will never see the vast sums that the likes of Bill Gates uses to hand craft business suits from. But is that what you really want? Probably. When you have cash reserves the size of the third world’s debt then you can pick and choose when and where you want to work. Now that’s real wealth – freedom to pick where you a fango and how you lead your life without fear of pissing off your boss and ending up out of house and home.

flipping the bird

“Please accept this as my formal resignation letter.”

Being really rich gives you choices. You might indulge in a spot of philanthropy as you attempt to give away your amassed wealth to solve the blight of starvation. Obviously, you’re going to leave a few hundred million in reserve just to make sure your kids have ‘enough to get by’. With this kind of money, you laugh in the faces of the masses as they trudge wearily to the office. With vast riches comes the opportunity to urinate in your bosses coffee just before you hand in your letter of resignation.

cup of coffee

Has he or hasn’t he?

No matter what your beliefs let’s not pretend you don’t dream of what wealth can do for you.

We All Want To Be Famous

What is fame? It’s recognition. The adoring gaze of fans. The opportunity to bed hop with pretty any man or woman you want. It comes from doing something excellent or outstanding. Once you are famous you can do pretty much anything you want. Well, anything that’s not criminal or offensive because then you become infamous and infamy isn’t good. But if your your alter-ego is a mad, computer wizard type who thinks that the head of MI6 is his mother then you have problems. Get to that point and you’re living on the fringes of sanity and deserve all the tin foil hats you can lay your hands on.

insanity

No, no, no! There’s not enough drooling in this picture.

With fame comes much responsibility and we all relish the chance of making the world dance to the beat we set. From wiping out the scourge of HIV to ending wars with a few, sage-like words of wisdom – we all have the belief that ours thoughts and words can make the world a better place. Ok, if you’re fan of Joseph Stalin then you might want to forego thoughts of turning your back garden into a gulag for the masses who decline to join in with your little game of ‘socialist utopia’.

joseph stalin

“Fames is for pussies”

Like any desire, the thrill of being famous needs to be treated like a rabid dog that could quite easily turn round and bite you in the arse.

We All Enjoy Sex

We’ve already touched on sex very briefly in the fame section so let’s get right down to the nitty gritty: sex is essential. Without it we wouldn’t be here. I take my hat off to nuns and priests that take a vow of celibacy but let’s face facts – without some seriously heavy duty fornicating by your parents, you wouldn’t be here. In the not too distant past, the dating game consisted of only a few steps: 1. A lusty look. 2. Taking your prize. 3. Heavy grunting. 4. Rapid retreat before a sabre tooth tiger ate you. Things have changed – many of us prefer the toxic effects of a cigarette before making our exit.

man smoking in bed

“Girls, you’ll be lucky to have a man like me in your life.”

Sex is one of the most basic functions of the human brain. In fact, any animal’s brain. Survival of the species is paramount therefore we throw our genetic inheritance around like a Victorian grass seed spreader. Regardless of your sexual preferences, that little part of the lizard brain continuously attempts to perpetuate the next iteration of you. That why advertisers use sex to sell – because it works. Likewise, winners and heroes are kind of like a walking pheromone and who can blame anyone for wanting to be like them?

pheremones in a bottle

Allegedly, this smells like cats piss. Winners don’t, allegedly.

The smell of a real man can’t be faked. Just ask that dog that’s trying to hump your leg.

Still think you’re nothing like Lance Armstrong? Guess again.

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