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Catching the bar
By briantologist | August 17, 2004
The Olympics continue to rock ass. Well, kind of. Not to pick nits, but I’ve got some nits to pick, not the least of which is this, which is where you should click if you’d like your Olympics-watching experience completely spoiled because you already know who won.
Not completely spoiled, I guess; there’s still the thrill of watching people do what they’re really good at, particularly when what they’re really good at is a sport, and not, say, alphabetizing things. (This is not in any way to suggest that I don’t think alphabetizing should be an Olympic sport, as my chances for Olympic gold might be restored to their full glory if this were the case.)
I mean, I even watched gymnastics last night. Men’s freakin’ gymnastics, and I swear to you it was riveting! Due in no small part to former gold medalist/commentator Tim Daggett, who by that point in the evening’s competition had worked himself into a froth; I think the word “Spazz” was created decades ago with the foreknowledge that some day its Platonic ideal would come about to walk this Earth, and lo and behold, there he was last night in the announcer’s booth way off in Athens. He really does bring an awful lot to the proceedings just by showing up and talking. It’s truly remarkable.
In other news, holy Mary Mother of God, I’ve got so many cases of the Olympic hots right now I can’t even keep track of them all. I’ve always thought women athletes were really hot, and man oh man, has the attire ever changed to suit me, for the most part. Particularly in the track department. Women swimmers are also — okay, swimmers period are totally fine too. Hell, I’d have a hard time saying no to Ian Thorpe, although I think it’d be pretty much impossible not to spend the whole evening making “Thorpedo” jokes. Huhuh. It’d be a total sham, though, as I’d spend the whole time thinking of my other one true love, she for whom I swoon even typing this. Dear, dear, dear Inge. I’ll write you a sonnet as soon as I can find a few more words that rhyme with “de Bruijn.” (Tune … afternoon … Macaroon … “Brigadoon” …)
In conclusion, dear sweet Jesus, I hope they broadcast this tonight.
Topics: Songs of Praise | 7 Comments »
August 17th, 2004 at 4:01 pm
There’s just something hot about Inge’s glamour nails.
August 17th, 2004 at 4:07 pm
How hot is it that Inge has her nails perfectly done in that picture on her bio? It’s like: Chlorine be damned! That ain’t no reason for a self-respectin’ Netherlanderess to leave the house without her French manicure and her bling-bling on.
August 17th, 2004 at 4:09 pm
Oops! Sorry, Erin–you beat me to the punch!
August 17th, 2004 at 4:16 pm
those nails that Inge sports aren’t for looks, their for effect. many of the female (and male) competition swimmers are adopting them for increased speed. essentially: nails = mini flippers.
August 17th, 2004 at 4:27 pm
I was thinking that might be one reason for them. Damn, am I ever aquatically minded.
August 17th, 2004 at 6:49 pm
GOMEZ
October 13th
Tulsa, UK
you & Darleece need to see them. It is a guaranteed 2 hour block of awesomeness that will restore your faith in music. can send you mp3′s if you’d like . . .
August 18th, 2004 at 9:08 am
Yeah, I bet if Thorpe could change just one thing about his life, it would be that stupid nickname. He’s probably impotent because of it, ya know? Too much pressure.