Olympics could not have been funner! My season-long plan to pretend to have a broken arm worked to perfection. No one knows that I’ve been spending the year as my alter-ego, “Charlie White”. Sure, “Charlie” didn’t win gold, but I got to fulfill my dream of being a world class ice dancer. Sure, my coaches and partner nixed my suggestion to perform my original choreography, “Arise Young Gophers”, and sure, I had to pretend to go to Michigan for a year, but it was so worth it. Did you see me rocking the Bollywood stuff? I KNOW! I rock. But, Olympics could have been funner, I suppose. They could keep going on until summertime, so I wouldn’t have to spend the next few months continuing to pretend my arm is broken.
Archive for February, 2010
Olympics are fun. In addition to playing hockey I’m acting like the Johnny Appleseed of boob hoodies. Can’t believe Vancouver didn’t already have them. But Olympics could be funner. There are a lot of fatties here. Curlers, bobsledders, ski jumpers (hey, come on, you have to admit it those suits make them look puffy if not fat and is puffy really any better than fat? I mean, would you wear a boob hoodie that makes you look puffy? No, you wouldnt. [And if you would, just don’t shop at the Refinery Dot Com. We don’t have your size.] Maybe the ski jumpers should wear skinny jeans and boob hoodies over their suits. Goose, take dictation… Give ski jumpers skinny jeans and boob hoodies before we leave. No, sell the ski jumpers skinny jeans and boob hoodies before we leave.) But I digress! Olympics could be funner. To protest the fatties, I’m vowing to eat only one half of one container of McDonald’s chili sauce between now and the end of the Games. I wish I’d vowed to eat a whole one.
Olympics are fun. I’m kicking ass and taking names because that’s just what I do. But Olympics could be funner. The ice dancers should all wear firebird feathers instead of those stupid “classy” Gold-medal-winning outfits. I’d tell them that, but it’s a fucking tightrope, man. I would love to tell the ski jumpers that they look like idiots in those stupid idiot ski jumper suits, but it’s a fucking ski jump, man. I’d tell those downhill skiers who think they’re such hot shit going so fast down such silly little mountains that those big helmets are theirs are no match for my elbows but I think a few of them learned that the hard way earlier today at the Athlete’s Village. What can I say? It’s a fucking tightrope, man.
Olympics are fun. That’s what they want me to say. Actually, I’m not winning. That’s not fun. I wanted to go home. I had a great idea to get sent home. I was going to do kinda lewd things with a medal and have pictures put in the internets of it, but I don’t know how to do lewd things. Unkie Mario won’t let me. Also, I don’t have a medal. Then I thought I could get thrown out by wearing offensive aboriginal outfits all the time. But that didn’t work. All it did is that now Pierre McGuire is wearing one too. Olympics aren’t fun at all.
Olympics are fun. Olympic village kinda like Philly but with slightly nicer people. Okay, much nicer people. Okay, I don’t think any Vancouverite has ever thrown batteries at Santa Claus ever in the history of the city. In fact, they’d probably trade pins with him. But… Olympics could be funner. The Ookies used to think hockey players were pretty cool but now they’re wondering why we don’t act more like ski assassins.
Olympics are fun. Oops, my trading pins fell off. Olympics could have been funner. Shirt could have fallen off, too.