Oh, Winter Olympics. Or, as my brother used to call them, Bolympics.
My Guy and I have been watching the Bolympics off and on. Basically, he said, “I’m embarrassed to admit that I only care about the figure skating. I hate to skate and I’m straight. What is wrong with me?”
Well, I think the issue is that we are not winter sports people, and it’s hard to get really passionate about a sport that involves skiing and then shooting a gun. I have enjoyed the snowboarding, though, and was a bit astounded that all the long-distance skiers literally collapsed right after crossing the finish line. Watching it made me tired, so I went to bed.
But I have tuned in enough to have, you know, some insights in to the 22nd Winter Bolympic Games.
- I can’t help but think that poor Bob Costas wouldn’t have that horrendous eye infection if the water in Sochi didn’t look like toxic urine.
- If I were a Winter Bolympian, I would totally do the skeleton. Now, granted, I’d need the padded bra to end all padded bras. But I like sledding face-first, and I already have a super-awesome human-interest story for NBC Sports. Bob Costas could visit my hometown and talk about how my Bolympic dreams started in my parents’ front yard. And then NBC could do an entire package about my family sledding in our front yard and how regularly running your sled into a tree builds character and perseverance. Of course, the segment would end with my mom being all teary-eyed about me being a Bolympian, because that’s what the Bolympics are about: making moms cry.
- Even though I like to pretend I’m not quite as emo as my mom, if one of my dogs were in the Bolympics? I would cry non-stop out of pride. And I’d probably wear the most obnoxious red, white, and blue outfits ever made because, like my mom, I have kind of stopped giving a shit. Now, if only we can just get the IOC to acknowledge peeing in the house as an Olympic sport with a canine division …
- Anybody out there think of “No Diggity” whenever they hear Ted Ligety’s name? Bob Costas mentions Ted, and suddenly I’m all, “Ted Ligety! Got to bag it, bag it up! Play on playa play on play-ahhhhh!” And then I dance around and think I’m soooooo cooool.
- My Guy and I have actually spent time researching all the terms used by the ice skating commentators. Triple Salchow? I knew what you were for 30 brief seconds before I forgot. But, you know, we’re trying. We have, however, determined that there is evidently a crotch shot quota for all female skaters. They have to twist and show their crotches to all areas of the arena in order to earn points. I generally don’t like sports that require ladyscaping – it just seems so unfair that you have to be really good at a sport and really good at waxing. This is also why I’m not a pro beach volleyball player.
- And as if flashing your ladybits weren’t bad enough … can we all just agree that the female skating commentator is just mean? She seems gleeful when somebody messes up. I kind of want to go back to the beginning of the Bolympics and count the number of times she describes someone’s performance as “devastating,” and not in a good way. More like in a, “that was so bad they are going to stone him when he gets back to his village” kind of way. I can barely stand up on skates, so I’m just going to love everybody and give all the skaters a 10, whether they flash their privates or not, OK?
I do not know why NBC hasn’t hired me to do color commentary on the Bolympics. Clearly, it’s a travesty.
If you were a commentator for NBC, what would you talk about?