You wouldn't think a century-old three-week cycling race that spans about 2,000 miles would actually turn out to be a clever ploy to provide home viewers across the world with surprise genitalia, but it is.
The final manifestation of drunk lewdness and fame whoring is nudity. The Tour de France turns this not-yet-understood phenomenon into one long stretch of non-porn entertainment in which genitals flail meatily, as if they were dog jowls outside of a car window.
The tension will mount as a stage draws to an end, the cyclists pouring their souls into their pedals as the fans close in around them, almost willing the cyclists to cross the finish line. And then an ass will float by:
Or maybe even some guy's cock.
It doesn't stop at showing the genitals; we have to see them in use, too. From what I gather, there's a longstanding tradition at the Tour de France wherein the guy in the lead on the second-to-last day of the race is deemed the winner. The final day isn't rife with drama as the riders speed to the finish; it's more of a victory lap for the guy in first place. With many miles to go before the finish, this year's winner was handed a glass of champagne to celebrate.
The other cyclists didn't pack it in and go home; they pedaled on to the end, just now they didn't care anymore, like the guy to the far right in the image above.
That is the stream of a man whose every piss droplet is saturated with defeat. And probably performance-enhancing falcon DNA.
As Chris Froome rode to his inevitable victory, the sides of the road were filled with dozens of disgruntled, scowling pissers who watched the winner happily sip his bubbly.
There is no greater symbol of defeat than a champion celebrating with champagne as the losers soak his path to victory with their piss. That is the Tour de France in a nutshell.
Luis' thighs are chafed. You can follow him on Twitter and Tumblr. He's also a columnist for Man Cave Daily.