Sunday, February 26, 2006


Because nothing could top Italy's pimptastic Opening Ceremonies, the organizers of the Closings were all, "Well, let's just do what we always do-- bust out some scary clowns on trampolines and call it a night."

The Closings, even when presented in the guise of the Worst Bridal Show on Earth, always sadden me. I hereby pet the hair of the commentators as very close friends who shall be missed. What do these people do for the other three years and fifty weeks between Olympics? How many postings does have for bobsled analysts? I imagine that Scott Hamilton sadly wheels Dick Button back to the Old Commentator Home, where he sits dejectedly between Jim McKay and Joe Nuxhall, hoping passerbys will attempt layback spins for him to mock.

As in Athens, NBC was fully prepared to ratchet up the evening's Suck Factor. You almost started taking these people seriously, but then they would say something along the lines of "The mood has certainly become more melancholy as we near the extinguishsing of the Flame, but it'll pick right up again with some muscial acts: Avril Lavigne and Ricky Martin!" and then you realized... this is a Network of Tools.

Then again, perhaps NBC is possibly doing the best its sucky little heart could with a nation which, while the birthplace of opera, when asked, "Boffo closing act?" immediately answered, "Ricky!" I remain confused by Italy's presentation of itself. (IOC President to the athletes: "You have seduced us!" Because it's all about sex here! Also the Pope!) Apparently EPCOT Italy is more Italian than actual Italy. Why were they spinning "That's Amore" during the March of the Athletes? Who, exactly, determined that at this once-in-a-generation moment on the world stage ought to be set to "Volare"? For there was the mayor of the city, waving the Olympic flag, and there also was... "Cantare, oh oh WOOOOAAAAHHH oh!" Why not just heap a meatball in the hands of each medal winner and leave it at that?

Feh. Back into training in Colorado Springs I go for Vancouver, eh. Boy, I hope K.D. Lang is there like she was at the Calgary Closing Ceremonies.

My childhood was typical... summers in Rangoon, luge lessons.

I blame the Russian judge.

Although it was really cool when John Baldwin carried Rena Inoue into the ceremonies in a pairs skating lift at:


Anonymous said...

Nice layback MB!

Anonymous said...

Ah! you covered the closings. Yay! No fair, I want luge lessons!

Miasys said...

Network of Tools. I LOVE it. God, your mind works in disturbing yet infinitely entertaining ways, and I adore you for it. Just last evening before he went to bed, my husband commented on the atrocious skating costumes. He must not have seen the closing ceremonies, or I would have heard about that too. I deliberately do not watch the Olympics anymore, ever. I hate clowns, and it's just not safe. Keep it up, girlfriend.

amy lou the reader said...

I imagine that Scott Hamilton sadly wheels Dick Button back to the Old Commentator Home, where he sits dejectedly between Jim McKay and Joe Nuxhall, hoping passerbys will attempt layback spins for him to mock.

That made me laugh out loud!

I'll admit I watched a total of two events, for about an hour over the entire two weeks: snowboarding and curling.

Snowboarding was on television when nothing else was.

And curling was on television when nothing else was. Also, because I enjoyed watching my fellow Germans yell angrily at the stone, as if that would make it go wherever it is it's supposed to go.

Dantelope said...

Why does everybody hate clowns so much? They are infinitely amusing. Perhaps you're just not using them correctly.

Proper clown use entails doing something with or to the clown that somehow results in a humorous injury, preferrably to the clown.

For example, you might re-enact a Three Stooges act -- which clowns love -- with a nearby clown. He will be enthralled as he does his best fake Moe moves. Then, without warning, you switch on the Realism and poke him hard in the eye. The crowd will laugh, the clown will cry, and you'll have memories for a lifetime.

Please check your manual for proper care of clowns while in transit. The FAA does not allow the use of a clown while in flight and, please, do not attempt to stuff the clown into the overhead compartment as he may shift during the flight and damage some of your luggage.

Dan the Reader
You asked for it, Laney

racheal said...

Yay, dantelope!!! I, like laney, love your posts -- I have already added your blog to my favorites right alongside of mb's. Thanks to laney for encouraging you!!

Also, just out of curiousity not because I am a stalker or anything weird like that, where is everyone from? I was born in Colorado Springs, CO, my family moved to Valparaiso, IN when I was 2, then on to Mayfield, KY (yes, it is a small and redneck as the name sounds) when I was 4. Now, I live just outside of Charlotte, NC -- I have been here for about 5 years.

I am pretty sure that no one really wanted a lesson in the history of my life, I just think it's neat to hear about where other people are from and see how their slang and way of speaking differs. Yeah, I know that most likely makes me seem like a dork but I am ok with that. And since I was asking the question of everyone else I figured it was only fair to answer it myself.

I'll stop rambling now.

MB said...

I'm from here.

dondiaz said...

... and I'm two doors down.

Dantelope said...

I live in an insane asylum some unspecified number of blocks to the north.

If you come to visit, you'll need to give the security guard the secret handshake. I don't want to ruin the surprise, but the handshake is illegal in several southern states.

Mine is the cell being picketed by the Association of Clowns Loving Overly Weird Nincompoops.

Where does Sasha Cohen live? Maybe we could go there and give her some love?

Laney said...

Regular “Disneyfied” clowns don’t scare me(“Disneyfied” that's the southern way to say it). It’s those weird euro-trash clowns with their black and white and dash of red here and there that freak me the “ef” out. I think they remind me of mimes. And that makes me want to kick them in the crotch. Right Dan? I had tears of joy streaming down my face when I clicked on the link. You rock! You are now in my favorites. Right under Blonde Champagne!

Anonymous said...

I'm from my mom.

racheal said...

Thanks guys -- I guess I will just stick to reading instead of trying to "join in".

MB said...

Aw, come on everyboy, be nice to racheal. I grew up in Cincinnati, racheal, and please kiss Colorado Springs for me, as I miss it very much.

Anonymous said...

I think you are one of the funniest people on the planet, truly. But please no tucking things into jean shorts and then belting. Perhaps this was the Eighties? I myself wore jean shorts with white scrunched socks and docksiders in junior high.
Otherwise I curse you to thumb-wrestle Scott Hamilton until Vancouver.

dondiaz said...

Aw, come on, Rachael, don't be miffed. Here's the deal: the good thing about blogs and the internet is that your are defined and judged by your postings, your insight, your perceived intelligence, your humor - regardless of where you live. To ask where somebody is from usually means your getting ready to make a snap judgment about a persons background based on stereotypes ("Where you from? Tulsa? Well, the only thing coming out of Tulsa are steers and queers. Which one are you? I don't see any horns on you, boy!" - First one to get this movie trivia gets everybody's admiration).
Besides, in my neck of the woods (which shall remain unidentified),"where you from?" is usually the last thing you hear before somebody busts a cap on you,
Aahh, good times.

Dantelope said...

Racheal, I'm from the Detroit area in Michigan. I was scared to tell you that because, well, now that the mimes know, I'm dead meat.

My slang comes from having a forked tongue...

Please join in more, not less -- it's much better when people join in.

amy lou the reader said...


I'm from Milwaukee...

MB said...


Well, there was tucking, if not belting. These pictures were taken eight years removed from the '80's. I'm sure there's a T-shirt slide around here somewhere. Be glad I'm not subjecting to you to the pictures with the poofy bangs (1986-1995, RIP.)

Now, what are these "flannel shirts" all the kids seem to be wearing these days?

kredin said...

"Where you from? Tulsa? Well, the only thing coming out of Tulsa are steers and queers. Which one are you? I don't see any horns on you, boy!"

An Officer and a Gentleman - 1982, Richard Gere, Debra Winger

How about some of that admiration?

Laney said...

Rachael, Rachel, Rachel, Yes you are a stalker. But that’s okay cause I love attention. So here is what you asked for and more...

Real Name: Elaine Wouldntyouliketoknow

Nicknames: Laney (duh), Red, and My husband calls me Mantrap.

Location: Memphis, Tennessee (pronounced Ten-a-say)

Turn ons: Witty blondes, chocolate covered anything, and men who are not afraid to kick mimes in the crotch.

Turn offs: Stalkers (enough said)

Oh yeah, I almost forgot I am currently working on my first evil genius midget. 10 weeks! I hope this makes up for the “Rachel bashing”. : )

Dantelope said...

I'm not familiar with "poofy bangs". I think this requires an entire post devoted to your past looks, mb. Oh yes, you know you want to.

laney - the first evil midget.. lol, awesome!!! Don't let your babies grow up to be mime cowboys.


Laney said...

Okay, I know that most of you think that Memphis is a bit "redneck" and it kinda is, but it is mostly ghetto. As in gangsta metropolis. As in we need to change the words to that song Dan. It needs to be more like: Be-otch, Don’t let yo babies grow up to be gangtas. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Anonymous said...

Geez, get a room, you guys!

Anonymous said...

I live in Florida, same as MB.

dondiaz said...

Kredin, you rock!!

1982? - Has it really been a quarter century already?!

Josh The Pilot said...

I went to high school near Charlotte, in between Waxhaw and Monroe. Sound familiar?

Speaking of steers and queers and military movies, can anyone tell me where this comes from? "Holy Dogsh*t! Texas! Only steers and queers come from Texas, Private Cowboy, and you don't much look like a steer to me so that kinda narrows it down!"

Josh The Pilot said...

Babe you forgot to mention how I was comforting you during the Closings, and what kind of wine we were drinking.

MB said...

No I didn't. I just wanted to wait until I could uploade the picture.

Aren't you total strangers pleased that you have this thrilling window on our relationship?

Dantelope said...

I'm peeping through a romantic window. I feel so, so, so.... naughty! I'm a perv! I'm a perv!

I'm like Stewie and one of his sexy parties!


Dantelope said...

P.S. Josh -- that's Full Metal Jacket. Drill Sergeant Hartman, I believe.

Followed by:

Sir, no Sir!

Are you a peter-puffer?

dondiaz said...

Yes JTP, it does sound like one of R. Lee Ermey's patented, off-the-cuff, dress-down rants.

(leaves to check

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