Sounding Bored

While I am truly enjoying the width and breadth of the 2010 Winter Olympics, I am having a very hard time stomaching skeevy Bob Costas. The dude tries way too hard to be cool and funny. Just like me, ‘Ceptin’ he’s rich and famous and I live in a basement. But aside from that…

So I reached back into my bag of tricks and I came up with an awesome solution. Do any of y’all remember the Pink Floyd/Wizard of Oz game? That’s where you start the album Dark Side of the MoonWizard of Oz disappears. exactly as the last of the opening credits of the It is almost otherworldly how the lyrics and the music link up with the visuals. Y’all oughtta try it sometime. So I started experimenting with NBC’s Olympic coverage and several different bands. Five Finger Death Punch to go along with halfpipe. Lynyrd Skynyrd to go with downhill skiing. Rush to go with Luge. You get the point. I’ve had a lot of happy accidents over the last few days (no, not the “I pottied in the big boy’s potty.” happy accidents). Sometimes the music and the video is so spot on, you’d think they were made for each other.

I’m tellin’ ya…y’all should try it. Pick your event, pick your band and enjoy. After all, whadda you have to lose but precious time with skeevy Bob Costas?

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Winter Olympic Wonderings

The IOC not letting women in the ski jumping competition is a misogynistic, bass-ackward, fucked up position to take. Hey Jaques Rogge, y’all afraid to get your ass handed to you by a girl? Change the damned rule already and "LET THEM PLAY...LET THEM PLAY..."

Just ‘cause I only get to say this every four years…Dick Pound… Dick Pound… Dick Pound. HAW! That NEVER gets old.

So, U.S. skier Lindsey Vonn bruised up her shin and to help with the healing she…wait for it….wait for it…she wrapped it with cheese. Aye caramba! What kind of medical staff do we have for our Olympic team? Dr. Pepper?

The unintentional comedy meter was getting quite a workout during the opening ceremonies. From skeevy Bob Costas trying WAY too hard to be funny (he wasn’t) to the fiddle playin’, river dancin’ Frenchies (isn’t river dancin’ Irish?) the whole night was a hoot. Funniest moment though, was when the Great One had to stand there while they figured out how to fix a technical malfunction. Poor brotherhubbard was sweatin’ like a hound dog tryin’ to poop a peach pit. High comedy indeed. I guess the only thing better than a prop malfunction woulda been a wardrobe malfunction. I’d have paid to see that. True story.

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