Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
Sunday, February 19, 2006
What the Olympics Teach Us
I've been spending a lot of time this week watching the Winter Olympics. It's really a lot like watching FOX News, in that I get to hear over and over how valiant and inspiring Americans are and the rest of the world are pretty much reduced to extras. It's great.
The best thing about the Olympics is that they foster a sense of brotherhood and teach us to understand each other. For example, I now have a clear understanding of why a whole bunch of people around the world are going apeshit and burning down buildings over a cartoon. I get it now. I think it became clear to me in the middle of the Men's Super G, when the French guy flew wide of the gate and got all pissy.
I've learned a lot more than that, too, from having NBC and its affiliated cable channels on my TV nearly constantly. I've learned that, without Applebee's, America as we know it would cease to exist. Before the Olympics, I'd thought of them as merely another ghastly fucking restaurant chain serving artery-clogging deep fried shit to the masses. Somehow, I'd missed the fact that they are a gathering place, existing solely to bring us together with our neighbors to experience tender moments that tighten the bond of community.
I've also learned that McDonald's is still going with that "I'm lovin' it" slogan that annoyed the piss out of me three or four years ago when they first came out with it. And now they've got a whole series of commercials that feature people sitting on a park bench with a plastic Ronald McDonald and treating as some sort of confessor/idol. So are these the fries of Ronald, shed for our sins?
I've learned that Bode Miller really kind of sucks. He should stick to his lucrative drinking career and leave skiing to those who seem to be able to ski a straight line.
Olympic coverage has taught me that it's okay to say overtly homoerotic things as long as it's in the context of sports play-by-play, such as when one of the announcers showed a slow-mo shot of a skier and said, "Look at the strength in his buttocks!" To be truthful, I don't ever really want to look at the power in someone's buttocks. I don't want to see their spandexed crotch waving around, either.
Thanks to the commercials that come every three minutes or so, I've found out that the average age of a New York City prosecutor is 28. Also, they're all apparently sexy and they sleep together a lot. I broke it down into an algebraic formula which goes something like this:
(Law & Order - wrinkles) x Grey's Anatomy=show that will last three weeks.
Something that's become incredibly clear to me is that a lot of winter sports terms sound dirty when you take them out of context. Try some out and see if I'm not right: Two man luge. Wax technician. Triple toe loop. Dick Buttons. See?
But the biggest lesson I've learned is that Pizza Hut's new Cheesey Bites pizza looks absolutely disgusting. Sweet fucking Jesus, it looks greasier than Kevin Federline. Who on earth would want to ingest something like that? Since when does pizza have to supply it's own fucking appetizers? This is why Americans now weigh an average of 350 lbs. (I got that figure from some guy on the street. He looked knowledgeable.)
So I've been eagerly learning all that the Olympics can teach me. And now I'm ready for them to be over so I can stop hearing about fucking Ice Dancers and can watch The Office again. Fucking Olympics.