Links
Archives
- 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
- 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
- 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
- 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
- 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
- 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004
- 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
- 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
- 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005
- 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
- 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005
- 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005
- 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005
- 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005
- 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005
- 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005
- 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005
- 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005
- 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005
- 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005
- 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006
- 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006
- 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006
- 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006
- 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006
- 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006
- 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006
- 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006
Being your place on the web to make Pat feel all warm and snuggly... or just a place to type random text... ANYTHING to get those badgers, mushrooms and African snakes out of my head!
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Women's Paired Coxless Sculling
It's the middle of the night and I am watching teams from places such as "Andora" and "Belorussia." They are executing maneuvers with names like "cross-coordinated full stroking," their sinewy arms cutting passionate swaths through the Grecian flood canal waters.
Yes, I have Summer Olympic fever once again. (Did you know NBC has over 65 hours of coverage each and every day?) It happens, I dunno, every four years or so. It's like World Cup fever, only with less men covering their genitals and slightly more international hatreds clearly worn on sleeves.
Now there are sexy women wearing colored, leather mandillions. They are holding big rifles and they each have a post-it note over one eye. They are shooting at a wall and it looks like some sort of hot, firing-squad anime series about chicks who will kill you or pleasure you and you don't get to know which.
Sure, tomorrow brings soccer and swimming and all the traditonal stuff, but for the moment, I feel sorry for the folks who are stuck competing in unheard of events. For these souls, the Olympic experience begins and ends on day one of the Games.
In Athens, it is midday, but here It's the middle of the night... Bjork's head-scratchingly bizarre opening ceremony performance is a distant (thankfully) memory.
Coxless scullers are in the water and they need me right now.
Pat.
Yes, I have Summer Olympic fever once again. (Did you know NBC has over 65 hours of coverage each and every day?) It happens, I dunno, every four years or so. It's like World Cup fever, only with less men covering their genitals and slightly more international hatreds clearly worn on sleeves.
Now there are sexy women wearing colored, leather mandillions. They are holding big rifles and they each have a post-it note over one eye. They are shooting at a wall and it looks like some sort of hot, firing-squad anime series about chicks who will kill you or pleasure you and you don't get to know which.
Sure, tomorrow brings soccer and swimming and all the traditonal stuff, but for the moment, I feel sorry for the folks who are stuck competing in unheard of events. For these souls, the Olympic experience begins and ends on day one of the Games.
In Athens, it is midday, but here It's the middle of the night... Bjork's head-scratchingly bizarre opening ceremony performance is a distant (thankfully) memory.
Coxless scullers are in the water and they need me right now.
Pat.
