Did I mention I don’t like the Olympics? I am the official unliker of the London 2012 Olympics (in 2012) ha ha ha because everything they do is ‘official’.
But that’s not why I don’t like them. No, the reason I don’t like them is… well, that is why I don’t like them. Just so we’re clear here. There’s the reasoning I gave the other day of the deification of supermen just because they’re stronger and faster than you or I as well. And the sponsorship/corporate ethos of the whole thing is genuinely sickening.
Just so we’re clear on that. Anyway, back to being more facetious.
Do you want to know the reason I dislike the Olympics? Of course you do – you hang off every single word I say, you poor fools.
No, the reason I dislike the London 2012 in 2012 Olympics of London is because of that fucking torch.
Another aside before we go back to silly-land: I was recently made aware of this tradition’s invention in the first half of the 20th century. By the Nazis. Yet still we do it, because hey – the Nazis weren’t all bad, right?
Back to silly land. That fucking torch. Not the torch itself, I can take or leave that. Can’t say I care too much about its baton features and flaming head.
No, this is the fact that they’re closing down a town today – a town that I live in (some might call it the town that I live in) – so some schmucks can run a bit with a baton then hand it off to someone else. And the worst part? It slowed me down getting home.
That’s why I hate the Olympics. Bastards. Don’t ever slow me down.
I could go on a genuine, heartfelt misanthropic rant here, but I want egg and chips because I’m feeling sorry for myself right now because I hurt my ankle.