Are you a world-class distance runner who needs to check your splits in perfect stride to avoid the poor aerodynamics of a wrist twist? No, you’re not? You’re just a world-class douchenozzle? Got it. Hold up. Are you a pediatric surgeon who depends on unobstructed views of your stopwatch so you can perform miracles on a child’s still-beating heart? Wrong again? You’re just a self-deluded bungweasel in a shawl-collared sweater? Wait a second, what’s that on your other wrist? Is that, no, it can’t be. Is that a Livestrong bracelet? Oh sweet mother mercy. What's that? Speak up, you’re mumbling. You think Lance Armstrong has done enough to redeem himself? Oh man, this just keeps getting better and better. What a sweet piece of work you turned out to be. And here I thought you were out there saving kids and running marathons. I was way off.
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