I think when I stop riding I will apply for a new job title with the UCI. I'm not yet sure of the title I will put on my business cards, but the general idea is that I will wonder around with a baseball bat or other such weapon (maybe I'll change weapons daily kinda like Rock Racing and their kits) and smoke any dopers in the baby maker as soon as they cross the finish line. Picture it, Ricco crosses the line, arms in the arm, little tear rolling down his cobra face.... then wham. He is on the ground, clutching his nether regions as his bike ghost rides along. I would then continue along my way signing autographs and posing for pictures with all the pretty girls as journalists come up with clever titles to send to cycling news.
At very least, its time for me to start riding again. I have some anger to ride off. Plus I need to get fast. Today should hold a nice hard day on the bike, complete with some Doper's Suck socks to show my displeasure. Perhaps an afternoon nap before heading back into Telus to voice some more displeasure.