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Carrying A Torch For Michelle Kwan and Other Musings

With a flourish, the 1980 Gold Medal Winning American Hockey Team lit the Olympic Torch. Whoopdy-shit. Yes, my faithful reader(s), it is that time again. That sacred time every, um, is it 4 years, or 2? Crap, I can never remember. Screw it, its the Winter Olympics again. Settle down, pull yer britches back up and shut it.


Yes, the Winter Olympics. The biggest Must See event that you will have to Must See this year. And you will Must Have to see it, because its pre-empting all my damn shows on NBC for the next 2 weeks.

First off, the opening ceremony (a wonderful, fully realized emotional tribute to the Great Goat King of New England), went off without a hitch, excluding the small child who took a tumble on the ice (And hey, dont feel bad kiddo, every damn time I write one of these things, I feel like the whole world is watching me fall on my face too, so take solace in that).

After the usual ridiculously elabourate showcase of the gayness of each country in parade form, the events started proper. The first event I watched, Figure Skating, I watched with intense fervor and determination, determined not to miss any of the spine tingling action that was to take place. There was snow, and cold, and dammit, if you've ever been to Utah, you know that those things are the spice of life in that dreary backwater mormon state.

And well, oh to hell with it, I have to be honest, the only reason I watch this piss poor so called event is to check out the poopers on the hot ice skating broads.

Ah, Michelle Kwan. She brings that special feeling to the nether regions that I've sorely missed ever since Mary Lou Retton stopped hawking Revco. This girl is built like a brick shit house, and she is almost ugly enough in the face to make the reality of her and I hooking up, well, a reality.

And dear God, the shitter on that woman, if I wasnt such a devout christian man, I would hire that one ice cream eatin' midget and buy 3 vats of vaseline and re-enact the Gettsyburg address on that ass.

O'oh, hold on folks, I'll be right back.

(ten minutes later)

Sorry about that folks, had to take care of some business. Let me just sum up my review on the 2002 Winter Olympics by saying, eat at McDonalds.




Christopher Patrick is a contributor to and in his free time shaves beavers at the Green Pastures Retirement Community of White Plains, NY.


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