LET THE GAMES BEGIN ALREADY:

All right people, I am begging you, for the love of God, can we please, as a rational and forward-thinking society… yeah, that won't work because that's just not us at all. Well can we at least pretend to be forward thinkers and put a halt to the bullshit practice of dudes proposing to their girls in public forums? Just seems like I can't ever tune into any sporting event or… or… no, sports, that's pretty much all I'm watching these days. And when I do watch, it just seems like some asshole's always got to seize upon that moment to make his marriage proposal a special one, to make it a memorable occasion by thrusting their happiness all up in our faces. 

"Now we'll always remember that our journey to Hell began right here at Fenway."

Some d-bag up in the cheap seats finds a girl who doesn't mind that he farts while she's giving him head so he decides to get down on one knee during the seventh inning stretch for all to see up on the jumbo-tron and I'm supposed to get all misty-eyed? F@%k you! Other than the bride-to-be's high tolerance for the southern winds, what's so special about these two that it's worth taking up airtime? Nothing at all. Sit these jackasses down so the commentators can stop talking about them and instead get back to giving me some stats and color on the game that I tuned in to see!

And it's not going to stop there. I guarantee you that one day soon while you're watching a live report of some tragedy unfolding on television with on-the-spot corespondent Patricia Hasan-Rivera-Chang (or something just as effed up as that) the mic will be hi-jacked by a guy who saw the whole thing but rather than give the world his eye-witness account, he takes the opportunity to propose to his baby mama. No, not his first baby mama… the other one. No, the one from the south-side not the east-side. Yeah, the one he met buying jeans at the flea market. So sorry good citizens of Fictionville, you don't get details of how a seven year-old got his hands on twelve pounds of C-4 and decided that school's out forever, because we got to witness a beautiful moment instead. 

"So there you have it. Hundreds are dead and even more were wounded,
but at least Angie from Bayside said 'Yes'. Back to you in the studio, Brad."

Okay so yeah… there's a little anger there, clearly some issues I need to work out. But that shit really does bug the hell out of me, especially the other day when I was looking for updates on the Olympic torch relay and came across this gag-inducing image: 

Funny, I thought the Brits frowned on public displays
of affection… or any sort of emotion at all. (Sorry Kate!)

That's David State proposing to his girlfriend Christine Langham during his leg of the relay run last month and I've already given these two way too much of my time so I'm moving on before they kill my Olympic spirit. And yes, you read it right a few sentences ago, I was checking to see where the torch was. Hey, a lot of people do the same thing at Christmastime with that Santa tracker shit so don't judge me. At least my thing is real and steadily making its way across Europe even as we speak. And by 'We' of course I mean me and the dolls that I stole from the kids next door to have my own private tea party and discuss the events of the day. ("No YOU shut the hell up, Polly Powderbottom! No one here cares what you think of the President!") 

Tea Party… talking about the President… you get it? Oh never mind.

But anyway, very excited about the Olympic games, can't wait for them to start. Really, you should see my nipples, they're like coat pegs or something. Could hang hats on these things. But it's always that way with me and the games of the summer Olympiad. I get all geeked up about it, watch the opening ceremonies, catch about two straight days of events, then my attention starts to wane as I realize how boring diving really is, scratch my head at the thought of ping-pong as a medal event and wonder how many handjobs it took in order to get the competition committee to include trampoline as an event as well. 

Yeah, I checked, competitive trampoline is nothing like this… dammit. 

Don't get me wrong though, I'll still be watching most of the two weeks that it's on. Still a lot of really cool events to be seen. I'll be watching Michael Phelps try to make the medal stand his personal footrest again like he did last time. Also fun to see how many 26 year-old women the Chinese will try to pass off as teenage girls on their gymnastics team. And women's soccer… come on. Who doesn't like to watch our ladies go out and beat up on women who aren't even allowed to vote in their own countries? And of course, basketball. I mean, what can we say about basketball except… 

Still there's a downside to all this as well, a dark side, an ugly side that makes the whole thing seem like a chore to get through at times. I'm of course talking about Bob Costas. Did you know that in the Greek language the word Costas means 'annoying little toupee wearing imp that should be violated repeatedly with plunger handle'? Seriously, I read that on the Internet… right here on this very page… that I wrote and published on the Internet. So it must be true because, you know… it's the Internet. And even worse this year is the fact that Costas will be joined by the ever present and equally annoying Ryan Seacrest. 

"What do you mean there's no Olympic red carpet event?
Well then what the hell am I even doing here?" 

Great, both of these f@%ktards trying to bring unnecessary drama to the games with Costas slinging hard luck stories about the athletes left and right and Seacrest doing… well… whatever the hell he's famous for. What does he do again? I don't watch American Idol, I enjoy music far too much to sit through that shit. But I'll even tolerate those two finger holes and their witless prattle right up until the inevitable moment when some medal winner jumps down off the podium, finds his true love in the crowd, drops down to one knee and makes a promise that will eventually cause him to curse his maker.

Although, if that medal winner's true love should be of the same sex, then that would be awesome! It'd be worth sitting through that opportunistic manufactured schmaltz just for the pleasure of watching the reactions pour in from groups like Focus on the Family or the National Organization for Marriage or the Headless Christians Association. (Yeah, I made that last one up because it makes me laugh.) If that happened, then I wouldn't mind so much. Also wouldn't mind if it happened during the equestrian event. Some guy wants to marry his horse, that'd be cool too. 

Of course his parents won't approve. Their son marrying a BLACK horse? NEVER!

After all, according to the above mentioned marriage/hate groups, dudes marrying animals is what we're headed for if we let dudes marry dudes. I wouldn't have a problem with it, long as the animal legally consents. Live and let live, that's my motto… or at least it would be if I didn't already have one. I mean, 'Show me your boobs' counts as a motto, right? Well it oughta.