Book review: “My Penis” by Tyler Hamilton

Slated for release on September 18, Wankmeister received an advance copy of Tyler Hamilton’s tell-all illiterography, “The Secret Race: Inside the Hidden World of the Tour de France: Doping, Cover-ups, and Winning at All Costs” As Told To Daniel Coyle In Very Simple Words And, Where Necessary, With Little Stick Figure Pictographs.

Coyle is known to seven or eight other people as the author of “Lance Armstrong’s War,” The Tale Of A Writer Who Couldn’t Come Up With A Decent Title So He Stole One From Someone Else.

I was flattered to receive the advance copy, and immediately put down the important task of tweeting salacious recipes to @mmmaiko and devoted fifteen solid minutes to reading the book, which is subtitled “My Penis” to reach the cycling demographic that also reads books like “50 Shades of Grey.” CU Tomorrow? Legit Girl? Bump’n’Grind? Yeah, YOU.

Does America really need another disgraced doper’s kiss-and-jail cyclography?

After reading “My Penis,” I phoned author Daniel Coyle to get some background material on the impetus for the book. “When Tyler and I started talking, I realized this was an historic opportunity for me to pay rent,” said Coyle. “Note the way I use ‘an’ with ‘historic.’ Isn’t that cool?”

“Uh, yeah. Go on.”

“No one’s ever had a ticket behind the wall of silence, behind locked doors, onto the team bus. I mean sure, there are books with that name,  books by Kimmage, Voet, Landis, Joe Parkin, every legit book on the history of cycling ever written, TV documentaries, reams of public testimony, arbitration proceedings, detailed scientific evidence, and every kind of proof and testimonial known to man. But this is different!”

“Like, how, dude?”

“Over the past two years, in more than 200 hours of interviews and trips to key locations in Spain and France, Tyler has given me complete access to his story. Emails. Home videos of his dog. Sexts to his wife. Phone messages from his dentist. We even had a seance with his vanishing twin.”

“You don’t believe that shit, do you?”

“You bet I do. To verify and corroborate his account, I’ve also talked to numerous independent sources, including former teammates, several of whom are going on the record for the first time, immediately prior to sentencing. This is a classic tale of human ambition and the consequences of trying to win at any cost.”

“Uh, what were the consequences?”

“Well, for Tyler it resulted in an Olympic gold medal, wins in the Tour, and buttloads of cash. But in the end he was banned for life from bike racing.”

“But wasn’t his career over by then?”

“That’s not the point! It’s a classic tale of human ambition! And the consequences of trying to win at any cost!”

“Sounds like a winner’s game plan to me, dude.”

Straight from the horse’s mouth

Next I called up Tyler. “Yo, dude, this is Wankmeister. Remember me?”

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“It’s me. Wanky. From PV. You came out here three years ago and did the Donut Ride. I fucking crushed it. Remember?”

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number.”

“No! Don’t hang up! I want to talk about ‘My Penis’!”


Having lost my source, I went to, where I steal most of my shit from anyway. They never disappoint! Here’s the blurb they had. And I’m not making this up:

“Hamilton explained that his time in front of a grand jury during the American Food and Drug Administration (FDA) investigation into Lance Armstrong’s alleged doping practices he realised that there was a story that needed to be told.

“‘I kept it all inside for way too long and I realized it was a story that needed to be told. I think when people learn how it really was – how it worked, how we did it, what it felt like – they’ll see that this story is bigger than any one individual in the sport. It’s really about making choices when you’re pushed to the edge and deciding what you’re willing to do to compete. I want to take people inside our world so they can understand the lives we lived.'”

In other words, the dude’s flat fucking broke, and rather than get a job gluing on tires or flipping burgers he’s decided to hire someone to write a book for him while they job around Europe getting drunk, riding bikes, and licking the pussy.

So these are the consequences of blind ambition? Fuck, where can I get some?

Back to My Penis

“My Penis” begins with Hamilton’s discovery that no one will take him to the prom except Jonathan Vaughters. They dress each other up (Jonathan dresses up as a boy, but it’s totally unconvincing), and afterwards they make passionate love and symbolically bury Jonathan’s bike in a field and water it with their urine. A lovely rose bush grows on the spot, and they can often be found frolicking naked around its blossoms in spring. But that’s a different story.

After getting recruited by the evil and dastardly Team Dope, Tyler loses his childhood dreams to a dirty, nasty, hairy, fat, toothless, balding, sweaty, unwashed French masseuse with long and unkempt toenails. Francois intends to inject Tyler’s stomach fat with EPO, but misses and hits his penis instead. Tyler’s twelve-day erection earns him a number of nicknames on Team Dope, none of which are printable, even in a nasty, uncouth, sophomoric blog like this one that revels in saying words like “pussy” and “cock” and “cunt.”

First the breakout, then the rash

After his breakout season with Team Dope, Tyler catches the eye of the evil and cruel dictator of the peloton, Lance Strongstrong. Strongstrong, who has just won the Turdy France after a miraculous comeback from a lobotomy, entices Tyler onto the team bus with an offer of candy and a trip to EuroDisney.

The next thing he knows, he’s sitting in Strongstrong’s lap, Johan Squatneel has forced him to sign a multi-million dollar contract, forced him to take drugs, and forced him to ride with the most famous American team in the history of completely unknown and forgettable and forgotten niche/kook/dork sporting teams.

Tyler and Strongstrong part ways upon the death of Tyler’s favorite pet newt, Newton, when Strongstrong makes disparaging remarks about salamanders, particularly the juvenile forms. “That newt was more than a son to me!” Hamilton cried.

“Only person ever liked a Newt was Callista, and she’s a two bit whore anyway,” Strongstrong shot back.

“Fine! You bad man! I’ll go ride for team Phoneycrack!”

Team Phoney Baloney

Unceremoniously kicked off the bus along with his little plastic newt cargo case, Tyler was picked up by Tubby Rihs and Doctor Evil Ochowicz, or “Doc Ock” as he was called by his clients. With his medication properly adjusted, Tyler was forced to win more big races, world championships, and gold medals. He was desperately unhappy at living the lie, and eventually couldn’t take it any more.

“The guilt became so great that after I was busted I confessed,” he says in the most moving passage of the book. “Of course it took a few years to confess, as I had to first deny everything. But that’s how badly I was hurting inside. It felt so great to finally admit the truth.”

Hamilton points out that just because you admit the truth due to running out of legal defense funds and the threat of federal prison doesn’t mean you didn’t really want to tell the truth all along.

“It was freeing,” he adds. “So much so that when I finally came back to cycling I could dope again, get busted, and get banned for life. It’s a beautiful story. The passion. The pathos. They mysteries of the human soul…it’s all right here.”

The book retails for $29.95, but will be available at Half-Priced Rubbish and Discount Records and 8-Track Tapes and Books in October for $1.99, or free on Amazon’s Kindle.

35 thoughts on “Book review: “My Penis” by Tyler Hamilton”

  1. Roberto Pascani

    That is so priceless. You have summed up the whole thing, in one blog. If these guys were all so upset about living a lie, then why did they only talk, after either getting caught, threatened, or being offered a sweetheart deal. And why in hell are all these bloggers, so ready to accept them as reborn. Yet crucify Lance Armstrong. Oh!, we wouldn’t hate him so much, if he would only come clean. BS.

  2. Just how sure are you about the effects of injecting Amgen products into the male sex organ?

    Needle pricks are an epidemic troubling today’s male youth athletes. Oddly enough they prove a suitable match for the equally doped females. Sterility and the inability to attain such depths as would allow crushing musculature to come into play are all the reasoning I need to understand why the Olympic’s remain an unfulfilling orgy.

    1. The only thing I’ve ever, ever, ever injected into my male sex organs is RuggedMaxxx2.

  3. Dammit Wankmeister you just ruined my 27″ Apple Display after I twice spewed thick espresso out my nose during sips of Lion’s Farm Kona luscious dark roast. You’ll be getting the invoice for a replacement.


  4. How about “My Chinchin” for the japanese version?

    oh, and thanks for the relentless pursuit for the “purisness of truthfulness” in this mightiest of blogs Mr. Wankmeister!

  5. If only Tyler had employed his vanishing twin, Chimera Hamilton, as the ghost writer instead of that hack Coyle. I would definitely have paid full price to read that riveting tale of consanguinity.

    1. What gave me away? The name “Wankmeister”? Or the fact that I let zeroes like you comment on my blog?

  6. Armstrong is a doper, finally someone has the courage to expose him, instead of riding the Palos Verdes climbs – what climbs? You are right no one has had the Balls to tell the truth about cycling doping – yes they have all been to scared in the past. Its TIME –

    1. Courage? Seriously, WTF? The word of Landis and Hamilton is worthless. These two POS got caught, then continued to lie about it, suckered their loyal fans into donating money for their defenses, and fought the doping authorities through every possible proceeding and appeal. Then, when they have been roundly defeated and are flat broke, they write “tell-all” books and NOW we are supposed to take their word that they are telling the truth? That’s not courage. That’s their lame attempt to avoid working at an LBS changing tires and fixing brakes on WalMart bikes. I would have said McD’s, but McD’s won’t hire known druggies.

      And what truth needs telling about doping? We already know the truth: 99.999% of the pro peleton was doping for decades. Now that there is a test for EPO and there is the bioloical passport program, the sport has at least a veneer of being clean. But by all means, if it make you and all of the other sanctimonious blow hards feel better, pick an arbitrary date back in the 80’s and vacate every record of every race winner. There, now you have cleansed the past of all the cheating. Feel better?

      1. Richard’s definition of courage is “something done by others.” What a numbskull. Happily, after your pleasant little send-off, chances are slim he’ll be back.

      2. Thanks. I’m happy to do my part to keep the feral cats from shitting in your juvenilicious sandbox that you so kindly share with us.

    2. Isn’t the best part of cycling watching people get pilloried?

      Actually, no, it isn’t.

      Except for assholes like you. Send me your USA Cycling race number so I can make fun of you. Or come out to PV so we can all make fun of you in person, and then bury your bike in a field.

      1. I had to look that word up.

        You need a like button for all your replies, I’m lol’ing and har’ing like a two-bit whore who just got two bits for a tip.

        WTF is with everybody asking you for money ’cause they can’t control their fluids…idiots.

        I think I’ve had too much wine (sp?) tonight. 😉

  7. You owe me a keyboard too. AND some new shorts. After I spewed folgers in delight through my nose onto my keyboard, my sphlinter let loose a torrent of liquid guffaws. Thank you.

  8. santiago benites

    I laughed, I coughed beer all over, and I laughed again. Especially amusing is your obsession with the penis. Cheers.

    1. Well, I’ve held it in a loving grip more than anything else in life except my handlebars. Beer coughs are especially appreciated.

  9. This (My Penis) is supposed to be ‘humourous’- correct? Even with my disorder- I recognize that it’s been done to death without one piece of originality. It’s easy to copy- but to create something ‘new’, that would have been invigorating… TY…

  10. Wow, way too much effort for the humor return. Not funny, except for “penis”.

    1. Wow, way too much time for the snark return. Lick my nuts. Or come ride with us and get your dick stomped in.

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