There are plenty of Jens Voigt jokes out there:
Here we go:
Jens Voigt counted to infinity - twice.
Scientists used to believe that diamond was the world’s hardest substance. But then they met Jens Voigt
Jens Voigt doesn’t read books. He simply attacks until the books relent and tell him everything he wants to know.
Waldo can’t be found because Jens dropped him on a hill training ride… on K2.
Jens Voigt climbs so well for a big guy because he doesn’t actually climb hills; the hills slink into the earth in fear as they see him approach.
Jens’ testicles are bald because hair does not grow on a mixture of titanium, brass, steel, and cold, hard granite.
Eddy Merckx was actually a neo-pro at the same time as Jens, but Jens dropped him so hard that he shot backwards in time to the 1960’s, where he became a great champion.
Jens once had a heart attack on the Tourmalet. Jens counterattacked repeatedly until he kicked its ***.
If Jens Voigt was a country, his principle exports would be Pain, Suffering, and Agony.
If Jens Voigt was a planet, he’d be the World of Hurt.
Jens Voigt doesn’t know where you live, but he knows exactly where you will die.
Jens Voigt doesn’t have a shadow because he dropped it repeatedly until it retired, climbing into the CSC team car and claiming a stomach ailment.
Jens Voigt once challenged Lance Armstrong to a “who has more testicles” contest. Jens won… by five.
When you open a can of whoop-***, Jens Voigt jumps out and attacks.
You are what you eat. Jens Voigt eats spring steel for breakfast, fire for lunch, and a mixture of titanium and carbon fiber for dinner. For between-meal snacks he eats men’s souls, and downs it with a tall cool glass of The Milk of Human Suffering.
Jens Voigt believes it’s not butter.
The first time man split the atom was when the atom tried to hold Jens Voigt’s wheel, but cracked.
Jens Voigt doesn’t complain about what suffering does to him… but suffering constantly complains about getting picked on by Jens Voigt.
Jens Voigt can start a fire by rubbing two mud puddles together.
Guns kill a couple dozen people every day. Jens Voigt kills 150.
Jens Voigt rides so fast during attacks, that he could circle the globe, hold his own wheel, and ride in his own draft. At least as long as he didn’t try to drop himself.
Jens Voigt nullified the periodic table because he doesn’t believe in any element, other than the element of surprise.
The grass is always greener on the other side. Unless Jens Voigt has been riding on the other side in which case it’s white with the salty, dried tears of all the riders whose souls he has crushed.
A very devout cyclist dies and goes to heaven. Saint Peter meets him at the gate. First thing the cyclist asks is if there are bicycles in heaven.
"Sure," says St. Peter, "let me show you," and he leads the guy into the finest Velodrome you can imagine.
"This is great," the cyclist says.
"It certainly is," says St. Peter. "You will have a custom bike and the best cycling clothes you've ever seen, and your personal masseuse will always available."
As they speak a blur streaks by them on the boards riding a gold plated Cinelli.
"Wow!" the cyclist exclaims. "That guy was so fast that can only be Eddy Merckx!"
"No," says St. Peter, "that was God on the bike, he only thinks he's Eddy".
YOU KNOW YOU'RE ADDICTED TO CYCLING IF....
You hear someone had a crash and your first question is "How's the bike?"
You have stopped even trying to explain to your other half why you need more than one bike...you just go buy another one and figure it will all work out in the divorce settlement.
You buy your crutches instead of renting.
You see nothing wrong with discussing the connection between hydration and urine color.
You find your Shimano touring shoes to be more comfortable and stylish than your new trainers
You refuse to buy a settee because that patch of wall space is taken up by the bike.
You have more money invested in your bike clothes than in the rest of your combined wardrobe.
Biker chick means black lycra, not leather, and a Marinoni, not a Harley.
"Four cheeseburgers and four large French Fries" is for you.
You see a fit, tanned, Lycra-clad young thing ride by, and the first thing you check out is his or her bicycle.
You empathize with the roadkill.
Despite all that winter weight you put on, you'll take off weight by buying titanium components
You use wax on your chain, but not on your legs (girls).
You use wax on your chain, AND on your legs (boys)
Your current bike is older than your grown up children.
Your first course when you eat out is a large banana split.
You yell "Car!" when passing another car, and "Bump!" when you see a pothole - while driving your car.
Your bike has more miles on its computer then your car's odometer.
You wear your bike shorts swimming.
You wear Voodoo T-shirts all the time, including under dress shirts.
Your bikes are worth more than your car.
You buy a people-carrier and immediately remove the rear seats to allow your bike(s) to fit.
When you move to a new area the first thing you look for is a bike shop.
You have more bike jerseys than low-cut tops.
You take your bike along when you shop for a car - just to make sure the bike will fit inside.
You view crashes as an opportunity to upgrade components.
You clean your bike(s) more often then your house.
You spend weeks during the summer spraying arrows on the sides of roads.
You and your significant other have and wear identical riding clothes.
You put your bike in your car and the value of the total package increases by a factor of 4 (or better).
You can't seem to get to work by 8:30 AM, even for important meetings, but you don't have any problems at all meeting your mates at 5:30 AM for a hundred-miler.
You regard inter-gender discussion of your genital pain/size/shape/utility as normal.
Your New Years resolution is to put more miles on your bike than your car, and you do it.
You can tell your other half, with a straight face that it's to hot to mow the lawn and then bike off for a century.
You know your cadence, but you have no idea what your speed is.
When driving your car you lean over the steering wheel, just like an aerobar.
Your kids bring a rear derailleur to "Show & Tell".
Your car sits outside your garage because your garage is full of bikes and cycling gear.
Your surgeon tells you you need a heart valve replacement and you ask if you have a choice between Presta and Schrader.
A measurement of 44-36-40 doesn't refer to the latest Playboy centrefold, but that new gear ratio you were considering.
You wear your heart monitor to bed to make sure you stay within your target zone during any extracurricular activities.
You experience an unreasonable envy over someone who has bar end extenders longer than yours.
You're too tired for hanky-panky on a Friday night but pump out a five-hour century on Saturday.
There is no time like the present, for postponing what you ought to be doing, and go bicycling instead...
You no longer require a hankie to blow your nose.
You smile at your evening date, and she politely points out that you seem to have bugs in your teeth.
So these two old cyclist agree that when the first one dies, the second will go to the local medium and they can discuss heaven.
So when Eric dies, Fred gives it a month and goes to the medium and gets through to Eric. Fred asks Eric what heaven is like and Eric says:
"I've got some good news and some bad news,"
"Give me the good news first then, Eric"
"Well Fred, heaven is great, Cars get out of your way, you never puncture, the goverment gives a flying f!@$ about cyclists, there's always a tailwind, there's a race to suit everyone, every day, you can ride forever without getting tired, and all the time trail courses are pan flat, dead straight and beautifully surfaced."
two pieces of tarmac are sat with a guy in a pub. A green piece of tarmac walks in and the two ordinary pieces of tarmac start trembling uncontrolably. The guy sat with them asks them why they are so scared, to which they reply:
the guy who just walked in is a absolute cycle-path.
good jokes roubaix. The you know your a cyclist list is so true.