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Monday, February 15, 2010

If the Olympic Village is a-rockin'...

...don't come a-knockin'!

Hey there! Hope everyone had a nice V-day and got some good lovin' from their loved ones. Speaking of good lovin', I need to address a thought I had on Friday evening while watching the opening ceremonies of the Olympic games. As always, instead of getting misty over American pride (which I cop to once in a while because what am I? Made of stone?!), I found myself thinking about all of those attractive young athletes in their adorable Ralph Lauren gear. I thought about how pumped they all must be to have realized their dreams and been repaid for their long hours of training by achieving the ultimate: being at the Olympic games.

Can you imagine the rush? The excitement in the air must be palpable! And of course, all that adrenaline and hot blood coursing through those young, fit bodies from every country.... Well, I can only imagine the parties that must be happening once certain competitions are over and people find themselves free to mingle and enjoy a frosty beverage or twelve. It doesn't take a genius to do that math - even I can manage it, and I kind of suck at numbas.

excitement + youth + alcohol - stress = S to the E to the X ! Am I right?

"Hey everybody! We're all gonna get laid!"



First of all, everything about the opening ceremony made me think of dicks. Yeah, I know, that's kind of typical for pervy ol' Bev. But honestly, I can't be the only one who noticed all of the massive phallic symbols?



Mmmm, frosty penises....



My favorite part was at the very end of the opening ceremony when one of the giant peens had a little stage fright and decided to just lie there while the other three pillars rose to the occasion, as planned. Poor, flaccid pillar. I'm sure all of us ladies felt like soothing it a bit, "It's okay. It happens to all pillars once in a while! It doesn't bother me a bit. I'll bet no one even noticed."

But anyway, back to the sexy athletes and all the boning they must be doing once they have either won their medals or screwed the proverbial pooch. You KNOW they're hitting the bars. You know they're scoping out the cute Asian figure skaters and the Swedish ski bunnies. You know they're trying to wiggle their way into the U.S. snowboarder social circle so they can knock a few back with the charismatic (and by all accounts, funny and nice) Shaun White.

Back in my TV days I worked with a news photog who was a big skier. He grew up in northern NH and spent all his free time on the mountains; in fact, I believe he's still on the ski patrol at Bretton Woods. Nice guy. Anyway, he grew up with Olympic skier Bode Miller. He knew him pretty well, had partied with him, and told lots of stories about Bode and what a nice, down to earth kind of dude he was.

So when Bode made the Olympic ski team four years ago in Italy, we were all rooting for him. Not only was in from NH, but he was a good kid and a friend of a friend!

Well, Bode didn't do so hot at the games. Why? Because Bode likes to party, and Bode partied a little too hearty and screwed up his runs. No medals for Bode. In fact, we were all kind of ashamed that he hadn't taken it more seriously.

According to my friend, Bode told him when he returned that the parties at the Olympic village were EPIC. Those athletes can apparently show us ALL how it's done!

Bode is back again this year, and hopefully four years of maturing will keep him on the straight and narrow until AFTER his competitions are complete. I'm still rooting for ya, Bode!

That's the kind of wonky crap that goes through my little brain on a Friday night after having two glasses of wine for the first time in weeks. Yes, I've been laying off the booze because it's drying to the throat, and I'm doing everything I can to get my dang voice back. You SEE what sacrifices I make, damn it? I miss my vino! On Friday I had some and felt pretty darn good, so of course I started picturing all of these clean-cut professional athletes doing the nasty. Of course! This is ME we're talking about.

One last inappropriate observation, and then I'll shutey:

You call these torches? In college, we called them "spliffs."



That is all.

Have a happy Monday, and go U.S.A!

PS) How cute are the Canadians? I think I have a crush on an entire country; even worse than I did back when the Kids in the Hall were in their hay day!

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