super-special Olympic edition
I'm finding it really quite hard to gather any honest to goodness interests in just how fast one man or one woman can hurtle themselves down some sloped patched of manufactured snow on a pair of super duperly, high-technically designed pair of used to be wooden old slats. I just recently stopped truly caring too much over how many pieces of vulcanized rubber this group or that could dump into the mesh over that group or this...
Unlike years past where I could easily muster a small thrill in watching some surprisingly un-awkward yet totally boney, under-slept-over-worked out to near death poor little young lady wearing even by Las Vega standard's some skimpy flesh toned thingy twirl herself around by only her toes nearly three and a half times... it's funny how happy I'd feel when surprisingly they just didn't fall down, and how equally sad if they'd only manage a mere two and a half spins.
I suppose it's nice that we've overcame those nastier times when one other's countries "endless war" in some same old sad places simply meant that the kids from many other places quite frankly wouldn't come out to play... but.
I guess given this embarrassingly unabashed pride filled pointing and laughing stock stories of shitty old toilets and the black-widow muslim boogeyman women that seem to frame these games in a tired old subplot has left me with even littler interest in watching some young Frenchman swell up when they hoist "his" tricolor red white and blue as I do to watch some other man get all resentfully-misty when some very nice fella or gal defiantly waves "their" little striped rainbow... meh.
I guess I'll wait for the Brier to get this year's curling fix.
Unlike years past where I could easily muster a small thrill in watching some surprisingly un-awkward yet totally boney, under-slept-over-worked out to near death poor little young lady wearing even by Las Vega standard's some skimpy flesh toned thingy twirl herself around by only her toes nearly three and a half times... it's funny how happy I'd feel when surprisingly they just didn't fall down, and how equally sad if they'd only manage a mere two and a half spins.
I suppose it's nice that we've overcame those nastier times when one other's countries "endless war" in some same old sad places simply meant that the kids from many other places quite frankly wouldn't come out to play... but.
I guess given this embarrassingly unabashed pride filled pointing and laughing stock stories of shitty old toilets and the black-widow muslim boogeyman women that seem to frame these games in a tired old subplot has left me with even littler interest in watching some young Frenchman swell up when they hoist "his" tricolor red white and blue as I do to watch some other man get all resentfully-misty when some very nice fella or gal defiantly waves "their" little striped rainbow... meh.
I guess I'll wait for the Brier to get this year's curling fix.
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