A slightly un-American post.

I kind of hate the Olympics.

I mean, sure:  Rah rah!  U.S.A!  America, F*** Yeah!  

But also:  quit hogging my TV, dude.

I know part of it is that I'm just sick to death of the snow.  Sorry athletes, but I am just completely. burnt. out. on winter right now.  Come back in four years.  (Heh.) 

Ironic, isn't it, that February is the shortest month, and yet somehow these 16 days feel like an eternity?  I can't remember the last time I turned on the TV and wasn't blinded by the glare of sun on snow... or is it the strobe light-like effect of a zillion camera flashes aimed at Johnny Weir's costume?

Then there's pairs figure skating.  I caught some of it over the weekend and I swear to you, at least one person in every. last. couple. TOTALLY BIT IT.  

Can you imagine?  Train your ass off, fall a whole lot, skate skate skate, sweat sweat sweat, skate some more, fall some more, skate AGAIN... and then your D.B. (Sweeney!) partner falls?

HELL no.  He'd be staring down the barrel of a tantrum of epic proportions.  The whole world just watched you biff it for me... it's going to be a long flight home, sweetie.

 

"I swear, you let me down and it'll take them a month to count the blade marks up your back." 

(FYI, that's one of my favorite movies.  "Yes, Doug can read."  Classic snark!)

Really, I think I just have a hard time getting all fired up over how fast people can slide down a hill on their stomachs in this kind of weather ON PURPOSE.  Sure, those guys do it and it's monumental!  Hooray!  Here's a medal! 

 

But then I do it, and people think I'm drunk again.

Hrmph.  

P.S. don't report me as a terror threat.  And for the love of relationship harmony, please don't tell J.  Actually that's probably more important.

 *EDITED TO ADD:  I must admit to a slight weird crush-like fascination with Shaun White.  That dude just looks... snuggly.