Back to BLOGGING! Giro della Toscana 2012

Ahh, it has been a while for me on the old blog front…but, alas…I am back! The Giro d’Italia is around the corner and I’m planning on blogging the crepe out of that race. Hopefully this excites you in a PG sort of way.

But first, today was the one day race Giro della Toscana and I feel that it was epic enough to deserve a blog post.

Last night I got to drive MY car a mere 20 minutes to arrive at our race hotel, something I am not at all used to. Usually I pack up my bags, drive to the airport and catch a RyanAir flight. NOT THIS TIME. I heart racing in Italy… I received a massage, did an interview, ate my weight in pasta, and hit the hay. The course of today’s race passed along many of my training roads which made the breakdown of the race much easier beforehand. The race is not exactly made for me as it features a fair amount of up and down but I was excited just to race at home and help out our team.

Ten minutes before the start, it began to drizzle. The day before it had been 30 degrees C (hot) and sunny, so the rain came a bit unexpected. I am a big man however, so cold/rain don’t bother me too much.

We started straight up a 3km climb which I was not at all looking forward to. Apparently the entire pack wasn’t looking forward to it either because as soon as we hit km 0, shouts of ‘PIANO!’ erupted and nobody attacked. When two guys finally did, no one followed and that was that. Boy oh boy was I relieved! Climbing from the gun is PAINFUL…non mi piace.

So our game plan was to protect Santambrogio, Frank, and Ballan. Adam Blythe and me, being the least adept at climbing were to ride the front and keep the break in check. We began to pull 20km into the race and didn’t stop until km 130. We had the help of one Liquigas rider for maybe 15km but besides that it was just us. Blythie and I had some fun in the wet descents having to wait after almost every turn for the cautious peloton. What can we say, we have to get our kicks somewhere! Riding the front is quite difficult, especially in two. I felt good, and I could tell Adam did too. The climbs I had been scared of on the profile ticked by, as did the kms. The 30km leading into the day’s major climb ‘Crocina’ were quite twisty and Adam and I were able to string the peloton out even more in the wet corners, our BMC boys tucked in safely behind us.

I knew that with all the work I had done, staying in the main pack over the 8km ‘Crocina’ would be a hard task, especially if a team really decided to light it up. And light it up they did! Adam and I, after 3 hours and 110km on the front went backwards like rocks as tiny Italians sprinted off the front from the bottom of the climb. I found my rhythm and surprisingly still had some mojo left, holding around 450-480 watts. At this point I was behind the front group, but felt that I was clawing back. For me, my own rhythm is essential to surviving a climb and I just made sure to keep my cadence high and mentality positive. With a couple of kms to the top I could see a group of around 10 in front of me and slowly made my way up and past them. The climb was all of the sudden over with and I was back into my element–descending and cornering. I had no idea how far from the front I was but I had team cars around me so I knew I was close. A group of 5 had clung to my back wheel over the top but were no longer there after about a minute as I blasted in and out of the corners. I was a man on a mission and caught another group of 8 just to screech past them. As I got towards the bottom I could see a large group of 20 and made a massive effort to catch up to them. They seemed to be rotating well together and I pitched in, the main pack getting closer and closer. It was only a matter of time before we caught them. In a way I was rather surprised at my ability to survive the climb and make it back especially after burning so many matches riding the front, but at the same time I thought of the amount of work and dedication I’ve put into this year and was happy that my legs were responding properly. Our group rejoined the main pack with around 50km to go and at this point a breakaway of 12-15 was off the front with 4 of us BMC so luckily I got to sit in and refuel. I relaxed and started thinking about where I was and how the race had changed for me. This morning I had not at all planned on making it to the finishing circuits in Arezzo with the main pack, but here I was, and I felt alright.

Farnese-Vini and Liquigas chased the big breakaway down just after we entered the circuits and there were just 3 left in front, including our own Ivan Santaromita. I made sure to hit the 1km circuit climb in the front and knew it was short enough that I could hang on. I gave a big push over the top and suddenly there were 20km to go and only one more time over the climb I had just survived. I could smell the finish line and again thought about everything I had done in the day. Before patting myself on the back I committed to helping my teammates and surviving the last lap.

The kms clicked down, the pack getting more and more nervous. I held positions with the rest of the team in the front on the narrow approach to the last time up the climb. Farnese was pulling all out for Oscar Gatto and I knew that this time up the climb I would really have to dig. We hit the base and immediately attacks went flying off the front. I just plugged away giving everything I had. The last 200 meters of the climb are the worst as they are the steepest. As the road tilted further upward I got out of the saddle holding a solid 650 watts but was still going backwards. I gave everything I had but it wasn’t enough, the group had formed in front and I was off the back. I wasn’t done yet though, I still had the descent. I found myself in a small group and with the help of an amazing Timmy Roe we started to bridge the gap. Just as we hit the bottom of the descent I knew we were going to make it. The last push is always the hardest but we were back in, 2km to go. I could feel the whole day’s work in each pedal stroke but I wanted to finish off the day in the front. I learned that Ballan was off the front with a small group and I just tried to breathe in as much air as I could before the sprint. I knew it’d be a big ask to place well but I figured I’d give it a go. I managed to get a bit swarmed with 500m to go but as the road opened up I was able to pass a few riders and finish top 10 in the bunch sprint, top 20 in the finishing results. After crossing the line I learned Ballan had won and was overjoyed. Ale is one of my favorite people on the planet. Always smiling, laughing and genuinely just a very good guy. He hasn’t won a race in 3 years so I knew today was special for him. I rode slowly back to the bus, sat down for a moment, showered and had some Muesli. Now I’m en route home.

Just another day at the office.

I can’t wait for the Giro d’Italia, especially the opening TT. Until then!


Filed under Blog, Cycling

Belgium causing tension between Fat Taylor and Skinny Professional Taylor.

Earlier today at lunch…

Fat Taylor: Dude! FRIIITESSSS! Get French fries! French fries! French fries!

Skinny Professional Taylor: Buddy, buddy. Throttle down, throttle down! We can’t bro, I’m sorry.

FT: Whoa captain buzz kill. What? Are you being serious? You know I don’t understand your humor…this better be a joke.

SPT: No man, I’m serious. We gotta stay lean.

FT: But we are in BELGIUM. What else are we gonna do here besides eat frites, waffles and chocolate!? Can I get a WOOT WOOT for some CHOC-O-LATE!?!?

SPT: Hey, turn the volume down dude we are in a pretty fancy pants restaurant.

FT: Yeah and we are wearing a cycling undershirt, swim trunks and spa slippers… Not to mention the fact that we are sitting here talking to ourself. I don’t understand your logic sometimes dude.

SPT: I already told you! We left our clothes at the service course…this is the only way… You should be happy, we are in fact EATING.

FT: We are eating sea bass and salad you idiot. I’m the FAT version of you remember?

SPT: Yeah and it is really good! Just be quiet and let’s eat.

FT: I hate you for what you put me through you know that right?

SPT: Oh come on dude are you gonna do this now?

FT: YES. Yes I am… Are you not aware that BIG is BEAUTIFUL? Or are you too busy drinking Tyra Banks’ America’s Next Top Anorexic Kool-Aid?

SPT: What does that even mean? … BIG does not equal fast-on-a-bike… We could never pass for beautiful anyways, have you not seen our nose? It’s huge.

FT: OHHH WOE IS USSS. Will you quit already with the nose? How many times are you gonna bring that up? You know it only attracts more attention to it.

SPT: Well, it is big enough to have its own gravitational pull so…I think enough people already notice it.

FT: UGHH just order some frites will you? I hate that you have all the control. LET ME OUT! Don’t you remember all the good times we used to have? Why can’t we go back to the days of doubling up on Larkburgers and dunking fries in chocolate milkshakes? Let’s live in that time. This time sucks.

SPT: We are a professional now, and you know it. We have a time of the year when I can let you out but it is not now! Paris Nice is in less than two weeks! Do you like being the first one dropped on climbs because I don’t!

FT: Oh my God. Cry me a river Justin Timberlake… Just TRAIN HARDER you moron.

SPT: Do I need to remind you that we just got back from 2 weeks of racing in the Middle East? We are training pretty hard, can you just please be respectful of our job and the duties that it comes with?

FT: No Taylor, I can’t. Because you NEVER give me what I want. It’s alllll about you and winning bike races. I’m starting to think you care about that bike more than you care about me.

SPT: Um, of course I care about my bike more than you. How on Earth did you not know that?

FT: Wow that is low, I suppose next you’re going to call me fat or something.

SPT: You’re fat.


*Fat Taylor puts his head in his hands*

FT: I can’t do this anymore. I deserve better.

SPT: Ahh you know what? If I could throw you into the fires of Mount Doom, I would.

FT: Oh. My. God. You are a cold-blooded monster. Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth? And really? A Lord Of The Rings reference? I don’t even know who you are anymore.

SPT: Ugh fine. Look, our sea bass is getting cold. When we are done I’ll order a coffee…and you know what comes with coffee in Belgium.

*Fat Taylor perks up* WHIPPED CREAM, CHOCOLATE, AND COOKIES!!! Really dude?!?!?

SPT: Yes fatass. Now will you please be quiet…at least until dinner?

FT: Thank you, Taylor. I will be quiet now.



Filed under Blog

A conversation with my body after Stage 1 of Tour of Qatar

Body: Hey Taylor, if you get a sec, I really need to talk to you.

Taylor: Yeah bod, hold on… OK, I’m good, what’s up?

Body: What was that?

Taylor: What was what?

Body: THAT. What you just did to me…what was that?

Taylor: What do you mean? That was a…

Body: Oh my God. Don’t tell me… You aren’t bike racing again are you??

Taylor: Well, B, is it alright if I call you B? I mean, bike racing is my job…and it is something I think I’m really good at. I mean WE. Something WE are really good at.

Body: Umm, first off, no, it is not OK or you to call me B. And hold the phone a sec! When were you planning on telling me about this?

Taylor: Body, please… Be reasonable. Can you just sit down or something? Please calm down.


Taylor: Well, like I said earlier, it is my job. OUR job, sorry… Without bike racing I couldn’t feed us, I mean our happiness levels as a whole would plummet.

Body: That just hurt Taylor. You really hurt me today…

Taylor: Yeah, that hurt me too but realistically it wasn’t that hard.

Body: NOT THAT HARD!? Taylor you are really asking for it now. Here I was under the impression that we were back riding bikes just to stay in shape and look sexy. Then you fly me all the way to Middle Earth or wherever we are…

Taylor: The Middle East Body…be respectful.

Body: TAYLOR! Do NOT even start with me. Respectful?? WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME THAT YOU WERE BIKE RACING AGAIN! You hurt me and you haven’t even apologized.

Taylor: Body, I am sorry. I really am sorry I should have told you.

Body: *sniffles* I trusted you…

Taylor: What can I say to make this better? What can I do?

Body: Nothing, just give me time… I will get over this betrayal. I just need time.

Taylor: Alright. Well, just don’t take too long because there is a TTT tomorrow afternoon…

Body: WHAT THE *collapses*


Filed under Blog, Cycling

My Father

Hello all. I’m just back to my house in Italy after a lovely two week training camp in the south of Spain and have been wanting to write this blog for a quite some time now.

I have been wanting to talk a bit about my relationship with my Dad.

I consider my Dad to be one of my best friends. There is no one else in this world that I have spent more time with in my life than him. Between the age of when I could talk, up until I was into my ‘tweens’–almost every night he was home, my Dad would come into my room before bedtime and talk with me for hours on end. He would tell me stories of his racing days, I would ask questions, I could talk to him about anything…he was like my own personal therapist. If I was having a problem at school, I would talk it through with him, whether it was about a girl I had a crush on or a bully that was picking on me. As a kid, this time with my Dad meant the world to me and wound up being an outstanding highlight of my childhood.

I often wondered why my friends didn’t have a similar relationship with their fathers that I had with mine. My Dad would go off to different events every once and a while, but was never gone too long. I very fondly recall the ‘boys weekends’ we would spend together in the winters in various ski destinations in Colorado and around the western US. We would quite literally ski all day–full gas the whole time–then go out for burgers at night and just hang out and chat before heading to bed and repeating another adventure the next day. On those weekends we would be attached at the hip and I remember them as being some of the best weekends of my young life. In fact, when I think back to them now, I am overwhelmed with a strong feeling of nostalgia. I loved every second of the time I could spend with my Dad.

In 2000, my Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. As a kid at the age of 10, who thought, like most little kids do, that the world revolved around me, I figured my Dad’s ‘sickness’ wasn’t that bad of news. After all, it only meant that he couldn’t travel as much, and would have to spend more time at home; more time with me and my little sister Kelsey. I also had no real clue as to the severity of it, my knowledge of the matter only broadened as I matured over the course of the last 12 years.

My relationship with my Dad didn’t change at all after his diagnosis. Thinking back now to the way he handled it, I can’t really believe his composure. He kept on living, loving, and laughing. He easily could’ve lapsed into self pity and depression but he held his head high and said ‘I am going to live with this disease and I am going to live well.’ He spent even more time with my sister and me, and we got to do some pretty cool things as a family–like move to Italy for 3 years when I was in middle school. Just to do something different and because we could. I will say, however, that nothing we did as a family could how been accomplished without my Mom though, she is very much the glue that holds us together.

A lot of people ask me what it was like when I found out my father had Parkinson’s, but to be honest, at age 10 I was far too young to know anything about it, and as it has changed him over the years I have been growing into my own person and trying to find my place in the world. I would say that the only time I really noticed a huge difference in my father’s appearance was after he underwent a brain surgery called ‘deep brain stimulation’ or DBS. In 2008, as I was qualifying for the Olympic team in track cycling, my Dad had two electrodes implanted into his brain which were wired to a battery box that sits on his right pectoral muscle; it is otherwise called a ‘brain pacemaker’. These electrodes are then fine tuned and customized to his own personal setting that quell his tremors and vastly improve his quality of life. Before the surgery my Dad had been on an 8-year roller coaster of medications, but after? He no longer had to take anything. He was not cured by any means, but he was a new man, with new life inside of him.

Even though my Dad has had to fight through this disease for almost 12 years now, our quality of life as a family has not been hindered in the slightest. My Dad is a huge inspiration to me not only in my cycling career but also in my personal life. He reminds me that I should never take anything for granted, and that no matter what, I should be happy and grateful for what I have. Positivity goes a long way, and seeing the bright side of any situation is a trait I have definitely inherited from my father. He is a bright light in many peoples lives, maybe shining the brightest in mine.

Earlier this month I chose to support my Dad’s foundation, the Davis Phinney Foundation, by donating $25,000 of my own money. The work he does, inspiring people around the globe to live BETTER with their disease is incredible. He did not ask me to donate, I just felt that it was getting to that time in MY life where I needed to start to give back. If YOU are interested in helping me match my donation (and you are in the USA)…you can easily text the word VICTORY to the number 80888 to donate $10. If you are outside the US, and have the urge to help support the Davis Phinney Foundation you can donate here: or here:

Many of you have been so very supporting in this endeavor, and for that I thank you! It is rather special for me to be able to share my love for the man that taught me everything I needed to know about how to live my life to the fullest, with all of you.

Thank you for reading, and a huge THANK YOU if you really means a lot to me!




Filed under Uncategorized

[BLOG] Saying Stupid Things To Girls, How I View The World. And Lady Style Tips…

Hey there folks.

I am en route back to freezing cold Colorado and a very funny little exchange just went on in the row in front of me.

First off, I got upgraded to United First which is always a treat and not something that happens all that often–so we are 4 people per row, 2 on each side of the plane.

The two people in front of me have been chatting the whole flight, from when we sat down, up until just now as I am writing this. They clearly are not a couple, as they both came in at different times and are also WAY too into their conversation to have known each other for very long. The man is in his late 40s, the woman in her late 30s. Neither of the two have rings on. The man has been delving deep into what he does and what he loves; he is a good talker, and a quality story teller. The lady’s legs are crossed towards him, and she is leaning on the middle island just eating up everything he is saying. Based off of body language alone, she definitely digs him. I would say that he digs her too as he keeps chit-chatting away.

Just a couple minutes ago the stewardess was coming around offering a choice in mid-flight snack. The choice being either a chicken pasta salad or a turkey sandwich. When she got to row 5, with the chit-chatty future lovers something really interesting happened.

Since the man was sitting at the window, she asked him first: “Hi sir, we are offering either a chicken pasta salad or turkey sandwich on today’s flight. What would you like?’

The man, who had been using big words the whole flight and asking meaningful questions to the nice lady next to him, paused and responded with: “Hmm. What is a turkey sandwich?”

This man is very obviously American, he is not foreign in any way shape or form. How could he not know what a turkey sandwich is?!?! My best guess was that he was stuck in ‘intriguing’ mode and it just backfired. He is probably nervous, and wanting to appear smart and like-able to his potential future mate. I can definitely relate with saying really random stupid things, especially in front of girls. But, ‘what is a turkey sandwich?’ That is legendary… I’m sure there are some Euros out there who don’t know what a turkey sandwich might be, but Americanos? No way. Turkey sandwiches are like a staple of American culture. You don’t know what a Turkey sandwich is and Bill O’Reilly will personally come find you and ream you out for being un-American.

Anyway, the stewardess’ response was classic. Un-fazed, completely deadpan she says: “It is a sandwich, on bread.”

To that the man replied: “Ok, I’ll get one of those.” This made it clear to me that he asked the question not really caring about the answer, only to put on some sort of a front. Strange tactics bro. Strange! The chick still digs you though.

I just watched and observed this whole transaction with widening eyes. People are so fascinating!


A rather chubby little kid in a Santa hat just rolled up here to say hey to the lady…who I would guess is his momma. For a second I thought the two people were together and that my whole blog was going to have to be thrown away. But no! Mom says a few words to the boy then INTRODUCES Santa Jr. to the kind man she is sitting with.

FASCINATING. Did that child just meet his future step dad for the first time? Wowza… I wish I could just creep on these people for the rest of the day! What does that say about my life…? Am I that boring? Hmm…

Oh, also. I would like to give all the ladies out there a little style tip. The woman next to me is around 35 and fairly attractive. She is dressed in a nice sweater with a decent jacket, and well fitting jeans. BUT. On her feet she has these beige mountain hiking shoes. This lady doesn’t have a ring on her finger, and gives off the vibe that she is still searching for that Prince Charming to finally save her from her own ticking clock. If only she changed those shoes!!! Ladies, I know hiking boots are comfy, but they are for HIKING. If and more importantly *when* you dress up for the airport, leave those bad boys at home. There are plenty of cheap and understated casual shoes that one can rock through an airport, just do some digging (not literally, digging would require something similar to hiking boots). That actually reminds me of a cute blonde girl yesterday who was on my flight from Vegas to San Fran wearing a well cut woman’s suit coat, True Religion jeans, and PINK SOCKS WITH ADIDAS SANDALS. Upon initial viewing I had the urge to go up and start up a convo but after seeing those feet! I ran, I ran so far away. Just like Flock of Seagulls.

So there you go. Take it or leave it. This is how I view the world.

Fellas, have you ever said anything incredibly dim-witted in front of a lady you were trying to impress? Share some of your own stories in the comments below, I’d love to read them!


Filed under Blog

TnT Advice Column: Taylor’s Fantasy, Tandemonium, D-Shnozzles and the Ex-Tebow

Taylor’s Fantasy

Clark asks a 2 part question:

1) Is it worth it to let nature run its course on the legs in the off-season? I’ve never let mine grow back because the first few days of leg whiskers on long pants or riding with leg warmers are torture. Thoughts?

2) If a zombie were running at you and all you had was your bike, how would you recommend using it to take down the walking dead? Let’s assume your tires are flat and nobody in the zombie apocalypse has a Presta pump, so riding away won’t save you.

Dear Clark, Taylor here. I am going to go ahead and answer your second question first. I have often fantasized about using a bike in combat, so this question really felt like a vital one for me to answer. A couple weeks ago on Thanksgiving day I was out early, putting in the miles to make sure I really earned my turkey dinner feast that each year we Americans prepare in honor of our ancestors slaughtering a bunch of people who used to live here. I was up in the high mountains of Colorado on a road called the Peak to Peak highway and riding with my roommate Evie Stevens. We were about two and a half hours into the ride so naturally I had tuned her out and was getting lost in my own thoughts. As a cyclist, especially a cyclist who likes to ride with other people (but who apparently loses interest in talking to them rather quickly), I get honked at a lot. Due to the excessive anger displayed towards me from what ends up being mainly truck drivers; at this specific moment in time on the Peak to Peak highway my mind was fully engaged in a twisted Thanksgiving related truck driver/cyclist altercation ‘fantasy’ if you will. I was day dreaming about a big green dually truck (the ones with 4 wheels in back) coming whizzing by me, just barely clipping my shoulder as it passed at somewhere between 80 and 90 mph. Due to my general badassness, this didn’t hurt me at all and I proceeded to raise up off my handle bars and taunt the driver with both arms flailing wildly in rage. The truck, noticing my antics, screeches to a halt with all four of its rear wheels locked up. As I pedal closer to the now idle vehicle, a large man steps out with a shotgun in his right hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left. This man is overweight, in a sleeveless jean shirt, and bright orange hunting vest. Let’s just imagine that he has no pants, just some lightly stained whitey tighties. He chucks the bottle of Jack at me as I race towards him. Clearly, he is not left-handed and the throw is under-powered and poorly aimed. I dodge the bottle and proceed to advance at approximately 50 mph (I am incredibly strong in my mind) on the large man who at this point in time is now raising his gun. I initiate my cyclocross dismount, unclipping my right foot, and swinging my right leg over the saddle, around and through the left leg so I can prepare the first step of my attack/disarm maneuver. I then unclip my left foot approximately 10 feet from the large redneck. I time my dismount perfectly so that I am able to swing my BMC SLR Team Machine in a fluid diagonal uppercut motion to the mans chin JUST before he is able to fire. BANG, the sound of the shot reverberates off the sides of the tranquil Colorado mountains. THUD. The man has been uppercut so hard by my bike that he has done a full backflip and a half and landed loudly on the cold pavement. Stunned and on his back, I have enough time to slowly walk over next to him and pick up his shotgun. I then deliver the greatest line anyone with a gun in their face has ever heard.

Happy Thanksgiving MotherTrucker.

Don’t worry folks, the fantasy ends with the man being escorted to jail. I am not a psycho, I would never kill the imaginary redneck! The point I am trying to get across is that in my own imagination, bikes can be used as very good weapons. They are quite large and pointy in certain areas such as the fork, and chainrings. If/when the zombie apocalypse does roll around, just make sure you have your BMC on hand. I sure will.

Tejay here. Getting back to the point… Razors are expensive, you don’t need to spend the extra money on razors and extra 20 minutes in the shower. Feel like a man for a month and let it grow. Shoot, that is what I have been doing with my face over the winter!

Taylor: Wait, Tejay, are your legs shaved?

Tejay: Yep.

Taylor: …

Tejay: Yeah, we don’t speak the truth on here.


Scott asks: My wifey really wants to ride a tandem with me, but I think it’s full of problems. Just the major ones: neither of us wants to be in back (she brakes too much and I might have an issue with gas), her power to weight is WAY below mine, and we’d be that couple that does EVERYTHING together. Any advice how I can convince her to drop the tandem?

Dear Scott, Tejay here. You are larger in mass than your wife. Physics dictates that on a tandem bicycle, the larger person sits in front–tell your wife this, you will not be lying. Trust us.

You say that you have a gas problem, but we don’t see this necessarily as a ‘problem’. Once you have convinced her that she NEEDS to be on the back to be in accordance with the laws of physics, take your strike. Remember, you only have ONE shot at this. Fuel up on way too much fiber; I recommend Taco Bell, and make sure you don’t wear those brand new Assos shorts you paid big bucks for.

I give her one ride with your stanky Taco Bell butt in her face, and she will submit defeat. Bye bye tandem.

Taylor here. Wow, Tejay, you just killed that! Respect. I would like to analyze another key point if I can… We all know that the ladies wear the pants in any relationship after marriage. Most men think they do, but let’s all be honest with ourselves, if she is sneaky enough to get you to marry her? Yeah, she wears the pants. If you have read the book ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’, and I am guessing you haven’t, you would know that men need their ‘cave’. Cycling is your cave Scott, your escape from your job, your home, your…wife, and you NEED that cave to survive. Women are not allowed in the cave! Sure, riding with the lady friend every once and a while can be great, but for the most part, you have to keep the bike and the lady separate for them to co-exist!

Tejay: Do you need help with this? I am, after all, the only one of us that has read ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’.

Taylor: … Umm.

Tejay: Oh you just go ahead.

Short and Sweet

Anonymous asks: Going through a bit of a dry spell and getting a bit bored, need a bit more action in my life. I’m off to college next year so don’t have a lot of time for a proper relationship which might mean something. Would it be wrong of me to take a average to poor offer i’ve got on the table knowing i can’t really commit and just fancy some ‘fun’?

Dear Anonymous, Tejay here. As long as the ‘average offer’ you have is on the same page as you and knows it is just about fun and is COOL with that, then there are no problems. The second you start telling her things she wants to hear–but may not be true–for the sake of getting in her pants, then THAT is when you become what TnT calls a ‘douche-shnozzle’.

Taylor concurs.

Exing out the Ex

A Fellow Bro asks: So I had this girl.  Was friends with her for a year.  She then breaks up with her older three year (tatted up jesused out) boyfriend and tells me she is cray cray about me.  We casually dated for a semester…over the summer she started seeing him again and before I know it they are back together.  We were never full “relationship status” because we wanted to keep it simple.  She wants to still be my friend.  Could either of you forgive a girl for something like that and be her friend?  What would TnT do?

Dear A Fellow Bro, Tejay here. Don’t let yourself be on the hook. She just keeps you around because she wants the attention you give her by wanting to be with her.

Taylor here. I agree with Tejay on this one. This sounds like a typical ‘stuck in the friend-zone’ situation. To be quite honest, a girl who strings you along like that is not worth your time. Any girl who can easily switch between dudes, offering hope to both at seemingly the same time is BAD NEWS.

Tejay chimes in with: Bro–shit, or get off the pot. The no-fun part about relationships is that you have to put up with the girls craziness. The great part about relationships (among others of course—winky face) is that you are free to get down and dirty with said girl. Sounds to me like you are experiencing the crazy, but none of the bang bang. Why would you submit yourself to that?

Taylor here again. AFB—when in doubt, pull out! Don’t give her the time of day. I wouldn’t be surprised if, when you pull the plug on her and no longer give her the attention that she has gotten used to from you, she comes running back. This tatted-up-Tebow of a man she is dating now is going to get old for her again and she will be desperate for her back up plan (that is you). Just say no playboy! Do you really want to be her back-up plan? I think not.

Join us next time for the TnT Advice Column! Make sure to send your questions to and follow us on Twitter! @taylorphinney and @tvangarderen88


Filed under Advice, Blog

TnT Advice Column (INAUGURAL POST)

Here we go!

The Age Old Dilemma..?

Douglas asks: Girl likes to have sex most at night. Like late. I often have to wake up at 530am to meet training partner for ride. How do I do both? Because skipping one or the other just isn’t doable, and you know it.

Dear Douglas, Taylor here. While Tejay has a rather simple answer to your question–which we will get to later–I would like to take a second to delve a little bit deeper into this.  According to a fact that was passed on to me by my female roommate, who most likely heard it from a friend, who read something on facebook about a friend who tweeted about this; the hour at which the average woman is at her highest state of arousal is precisely 3:00-4:00PM. Therefore, for me, the answer is simple: the ladies, they buy into a lot of questionable things. For example, if she is into horoscopes then you are in luck! This means she will be more inclined to believe you when you present her with this ‘fact’. I’m not saying you should lie to your lovely lady, I’m just saying that if you incorporate lunar and star alignment into your presentation on how her optimal sexual hour is–whenever you want it to be AM/PM–then you WILL WIN Douglas. If she DOESN’T believe you then she is clearly not crazy–a.k.a. a keeper, and you should probably marry her.

So really, you will either A. find out that your girlfriend is not as great as you thought and will have to dump her because, let’s face it, she be crazy to believe you. Or B. you will not get what you want. And that leads me to Tejay’s answer.

Tejay: Douglas, have sex, sleep in, ride alone. (Taylor secretly agrees to this plan).


Klowe29 asks: Should you “Go Ugly Early” or wait and try your chances with the hottest one in the bar?

Dear Klowe29, Tejay and I have compiled a mutual answer for this one. Like Babe Ruth, we would encourage swinging for the fences, even pointing at said fence before you knock that ball out of the park. Instead of thinking what if..? Think why not! For reals, you will find that the second far outweighs the first. I think you will also find that probably not a lot of people in the bar have pointed at the hottest girl there, which will subsequently make you stand out, because let’s face it, pointing at randos is kinda creepy. BUT also, intriguing. On a side note, make sure you have an incredible follow up to said pointing move in order to guarantee success. As Tejay would say, swing for the fence, but don’t be too upset if you end up at First base–he knows better than anyone that you gotta slay a couple dragons before you can find the princess. No shame sir, no shame.

ALSO, you need to look at the long term. If you are going out, fully committed, then you have the WHOLE night. Rooms are dark, alcohol is permeating the blood stream–entering the brain, making life blurry. By 2:00AM the hotties are by and large all at home looking at themselves in the mirror, pretending that they enjoy eating 300 calories every day and tweeting about how amazing their life is and how much more ‘blessed’ they are than the rest of the world. Granted, I wouldn’t know, I am just guestimating here (winky face). Anyways, back to the point. Try your luck early fellas, be funny, win some, don’t worry if you lose some…but at least try! If, by 2:00am you are unsuccessful, then lower your standards exponentially factoring in the time of day and your growing level of intoxication.

Sweet, Sweet, Bike Riders.

Anonymous asks: There’s a friend (bike rider!) I don’t fancy at all trying to go on a date with me.. I don’t wanna be rude to him but he’s a real pain in the neck! He knows I just want to be his friend but he never misses the opportunity to invite me to my team’s football matches etc. Advice? Are all bike riders so annoying??

Dear Anonymous, Taylor here. First off, hold those horses! I’m not sure if you know this, but both Tejay and I are bike riders, and the only way you could have arrived to my website is through my Twitter, which means that at the bare minimum, you follow me, and let’s just go ahead and assume that you follow Tejay. SO, your final question is irrelevant because you should know from reading at least 2 of my tweets that yes, bike riders are incredibly annoying! I don’t hide it. I am proud…

Tejay here. As well as being very annoying, we tend to be very persistent. Unless this guy feels he still has a chance, he WILL persist, SO this turns into a classic ‘truth will set you free’ situation. Tell the guy that you are not into him ‘that way’ (whatever the hell that really means!). And also, stop being a tease and stop stealing his football tickets.

Taylor here again. Girl, hold up. He buys you tickets to football games? Or he invites himself to YOUR games… Slight difference. If he buys you tickets to games then you might need to step back a second and evaluate this situation a little bit deeper. This guy sounds like a care-taker. Let’s face it, you are not getting any younger, and you might look back to this time and think ‘why oh why did I not get with that guy who was so nice to me, and who bought me lovely things all the time and genuinely would have spoiled me for the rest of my life…?’ Then, you will look him up on facebook only to notice that he has moved to sunny California, married the winner of Season 8’s America’s Next Top Model, and they look oh-so-happy. Crushed, you close your 8-year old computer and head to the freezer for your second pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia in the span of the last 30 minutes. It is also raining outside because you are in England.

Think about it…

Join us next time for the TnT Advice Column! Make sure to send your questions to and follow us on Twitter! @taylorphinney and @tvangarderen88


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