Archive for February, 2006

Winter Olympics

Whew! The Winter Olympics are finally over and not a minute too soon! I’ve been spending the last 2 weeks trying out my latest weight-loss theory: That a person actually expends a significant number of calories simply by watching certain Olympic events. So, after spending much time watching numerous Olympic sports, and performing before and after weigh-ins, I have devised a list of the Winter Olympic sports in the order of caloric burn, going from Most Calories Burned by Watching to Least Calories Burned by Watching:

1) Short Track – Not only do you have to skate really really hard, but you have to do it in a pack of other people without falling down! REALLY HARD! I was out of breath just watching this one.

Really, really hard to do!

2) Speed Skating – Fast skating but you only have to stay out of one other person’s way. Again, out of breath.

3) Cross Country – This looks pretty hard to me. And they have to go a long way – mostly uphill! I’m exhausted just writing about it!

4) Figure Skating – Don’t let some guy tell you that figure skating “isn’t really a sport.” Hey, just being able to stand up straight on ice skates is pretty hard – so there.

5) Ice Dancing – See #4.
(Side note: The outfits are TOO GAUDY!! Someone really should tell them)

They all seem to love hot pink – but why??

6) Biathlon – OK, it’s got cross country skiing (see #3), but they get to rest for the shooting part (wussies).

7) All other skiing events (Downhill, Super G, Aerials, Snowboarding, Ski jumping, etc): Look. you’re on skis going DOWNHILL. How hard is that?

8) All Sledding Events (Bobsleigh, Luge, Skeleton). We’ve all been sledding – NOT A SPORT, in my opinion. The only real exercise involved in sledding is dragging your sled back uphill and I never ONCE saw any of the teams doing that. Again: Wussies.

Kids do this for fun, so why is it a sport?

9) Curling – Looks like the Senior Olympics to me. Not much effort here.

10) Hockey – Two words: Team Sport. I don’t watch ‘em. Ever. Therefore, zero calories burned.

There you have it, my friends. Don’t forget to tune in 2 years from now for the Summer Olympics, which are real sweatfests!

Remember, the more you sweat the harder you’re watching!

cheney’s got a gun

It’s this kind of stuff that makes my day.

cartoon channel

Am I the only person who thinks that people killing each other over cartoons is pretty funny? Every time I hear the words “Cartoon Violence” I just get this picture in my head of Bugs Bunny & Elmer Fudd fighting.

And now, to retaliate, some shops are refusing to sell Danish products. What the hell do the Danish produce anyway besides Cheese Danish?

Just wondering

A couple of little pieces

Note: Taking my cue from James Frey, parts of the following story are true, parts are fictional. You decide.

Saturday morning.
I struggle up through the layers of my hazy, alcohol-soaked brain and open my eyes to the darkness. I slowly evaluate my surroundings – Bedroom. Dark. Dizzy. I am. Still drunk.
I don’t so much fall back asleep as pass out.

Morning. Head hurts.
My recollection of the previous night is spotty, but the wine…I do remember the wine. Merlot. Can’t believe I was actually drinking f***ing Merlot! Damn, no wonder I feel so bad. Wait, there was a white wine in there somewhere. God, I HAVE to quit mixing my drinks.

And for some reason there is a knot on the back of my head and a bruise on my arm. What the…?

Back to sleep.

Later.
Phone ringing, ringing, ringing.

“Yeah?”
“Wow, are you OK?” asks my boyfriend Ken.
“Uh. Dunno.”
“You really kicked ass last night!”
“Huh?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Uh, I guess not.”
“A bunch of Ninjas crashed the party and you totally took them on and kicked all their assess! It was totally Crouching Tiger !”
A vague memory of hanging in midair while in a perfect martial arts-style pose flickers in my memory. Cool. I always wanted to do that.
I hope I hadn’t hurt anyone TOO badly.

Suddenly, a dreadful, coherent thought pierced my brain: Last night I was wearing a BRAND NEW JACKET.
To hell with the condition of the Ninjas, what about my new jacket??? Dammit!

“Honey, where’s my new jacket?”
“What jacket?”
“The one I was wearing last night. You know, my new short denim jacket. It was brand new! And I looked hot in it!”
“Oh yeah, you got some wine on it. But golly, babe, you really rocked the house! Everyone’s still talking about it!”

I slammed the phone down and leaped, I mean crawled, out of bed. I began pawing through the layers of debris littering my bedroom floor – books, empty wine bottles, crack vials, martial arts supplies – until I located my clothes from the previous night. And there it was – my new jacket, still intact (miraculously, considering all the kick-ass Ninja activity I was apparently involved in), but with a large purple wine stain marring the left sleeve. Shit! Ruined by Merlot again.

I crawled back into bed.

I vow to never drink again.

For the ten millionth time.

This post is dedicated to Ninjas