It would seem that, as the evening lengthens into several more jars of moonshine, you become more and more vociferous in your assertions and conclusions. It's heartening to know that even in the face of alcohol levels normally found in backwoods stills operated by toothless sheep buggerers (aka: PCad's "ma, pa and baaaaaaaaa") that you can still find the ability to spell check words 7 grades above your reading level. But I digress:

I'm sure you've mined the depths of the Cat4 Prospect Park crowd in your 40 minute crits to the point that you've developed tactics that would bring Guinard knocking at your door to retrospectively point out the flaws in his strategies.

My tiny bit of experience racing guys who have actually raced in the actual Tour (and Vuelta, and Olympics, and Giro, and US Pro, Etc) wilts in the fiery light of Pcads magnificent database of racing knowledge and Norstradamus-like accuracy of prediction. Bandwidth prevents me from even the shortest synopsis, but you can rest assured you've left me scratching my head in wonderment more than once.

Please, continue.