It’s almost over and the end can’t come fast enough. It will be over by the time this has been read and as I type, the USA are just keeping ahead of the Spanish in the final of the men’s Basketball. Notch up on more gold to the USA? Probably, but only just.

The gold medal standings at this time are China 50 and the USA 35. Of the 50 that have been won by China, 25 were won by women and 25 by men. Now that’s what I call equality. Of the 35 gold that the USA won, 14 were won by women and 21 by men, with the men about to add another gold in the basketball. Hmmm – if I had a point to make on that subject, I might, but I won’t!!

I watched bits of the men’s and women’s marathons – both were as boring as every other marathon. When the medal ceremonies were being held and the national anthems played, it was touching to see the athletes clasping their chests – but strangely it was not with both hands as we had been expecting. The air in Beijing was de-polluted as promised. As the countdown to the end of the Olympics approaches, we can hear the car engines warming up and preparing to hit the streets in force. The factory managers are standing by the power gear, waiting to crank those factories back into life as soon as the visitors are gone – and along with the visitors goes the façade that has been China for the last few weeks and very soon we will be back to a welcome normality. Gone will be the demonstration sports of organised flag waving, bussed in crowds and face painting and what we will be left with is an Olympic Hangover and Nationalistic withdrawal symptoms. Where will all that pumped up adrenaline go next?

I miss the Olympics already, like a hole in the proverbial head.– it’s been a welcome distraction for an entire population. However, now we have to get on with life without heroes. How will we survive (?).

London Calling, London Calling. (Only) 4 more years!

PS – To all the Aussies out there. HA fkn HA. We beat you, get over it darlings.

BEIJING—Chinese Olympic officials say they are no closer to catching the swashbuckling, green-uniformed archery competitor who has disrupted every single medal ceremony of the Games by bursting in, stealing the gold medal or medals in the name of the poor in an archery-related fashion, striking a triumphant pose, and then disappearing without a trace.

“Good people of the world, take heart!” the mysterious figure said in his most recent appearance, when he burst into the medal ceremony for the Men’s 200 Metre Freestyle. “Truly, these are good men, doughty and true; and their swimming has won the day. First place in the very world may they rightly claim, but in the name of the poor, the sickly, the lonely old, and the weak without voice, I hereby claim this gold that with it I may do greater good!”

The archer then shot a goose-feathered arrow through the ribbons holding the gold medals around the necks of the U.S. team, causing their medals to fall to the ground. The archer himself proceeded to leap from the rafters, alight on the podium’s top step, collect his prize, and disappear through a nearby window.

Since entering China last month by using a forged Sherwood Forest passport under the name Robert Huntingdon, the archer has appeared at more than 70 medal ceremonies, escaping with the gold every time. In almost every case, archery-related schemes were used to secure the medals, although some were more difficult for him to obtain than others.

An epic four-way fencing match broke out during the Women’s Sabre medal ceremony, with the archer taking on the three American women in a clash of blades that spilled out onto the balcony and across the Beijing rooftops. Germany’s Ole Bischoff, winner in the Men’s 81kg judo event, threw the archer through a nearby table and down a flight of stairs before his feet were nailed to the ground by arrows. And the Chinese women’s gymnastics team was almost impossible for the archer to catch.

The athletes themselves are divided in their opinion of the bow-weilding outlaw. Although many regard him as annoyance at best, and still others as a dangerous menace, a considerable faction has voiced sympathy for his cause.

“Put it this way—that guy has some stuff of mine, but he’s welcome to it,” said U.S. swimmer Michael Phelps. “I mean, I’m not political, really, but I’ve had a lucky life. If my gold medals can help someone get a hot meal and a place to sleep for a few nights, that’s okay. It doesn’t mean I didn’t win.”

Phelps confessed his admiration that, although the archer had burst into the ceremony for the men’s 400 Meter Relay, the team had been allowed to keep a single medal, as the archer praised the “epic performance by four doughty good men and true, who soundly defeated the Norman French, uplifted the hearts of all who saw, and enriched the very World thereby.”

Chinese officials have been less charitable. “His disregard for our culture, our laws, and these Games will not go unpunished,” a statement from the Chinese Olympic Committee read in part. “We demand he turn himself in, return the medals to the rightful winners, and face his punishment for these thefts, as well as for his repeated demands that we free Tibet and his continued poaching of deer in Yu Nan province.”

Law enforcement officials, acting in liaison with the Nottingham Sheriff’s Department, have also concocted a scheme to capture the elusive archer by staging an archery contest with an especially large and valuable gold medal as the prize, an event already under way. The contest is currently in the semifinal rounds and is being led by Britain’s Rob Enhood, a mysterious eyepatched figure with a penchant for archery so accurate that he routinely splits the arrows of his competitors.

– Reporting by The Onion

Deadly Virus Sweeping China Is Just Olympic Fever

The Chinese government explained that the fatal disease is caused by the excitement of the Olympics, not infected birds, as was previously reported.

…and now this extract from the Olympic Website Since Ancient Times:

Olympic FAQ for Foreign Friends

1. I’ve been hearing a lot about these pollution levels, but there are so many different ways the experts use to describe it all, and so much fancy jargon, that I’m a bit confused. Can you please tell me what is the standard that Beijing must meet to determine whether it is a “blue sky day”?

Certainly. It is a “Blue Sky Day” if the sky is Pantone 444M or better.

2. Is there an official Olympic song?

Indeed yes! There is an official song, and it will be sung at every event before athletic activities commence, before and after every medal presentation, in the taxi on your way home to your hotel, during the night in your hotel room, from loudspeakers along every street, and from the micro-radio that will be implanted in your teeth at the airport during customs inspection. It’s a lovely little ditty, too. Here it is:

Ni ke Cen Jian Guo Yi Wei Xiao Jie?
Yi Wei Xiao Jie.
Yi Wei Xiao Jie?
Ni ke Cen Jian Guo Yi Wei Xiao Jie?
Wang Zhe Bian Zou he Na Bian Zou?
Wang Zhe Bian Zou he Na Bian Zou
Na bian Zou he Zhe Bian Zou
Ni ke Cen Jian Guo Yi Wei Xiao Jie?
Wang Zhe Bian Zou he Na Bian Zou?

3. What’s the deal with the mascots? Why so many, and what are they called anyway?

Actually, there is some confusion regarding both the name and number of Olympic mascots at the 2008 Genocide Olympic Games. Originally, there were five mascots, however one defected from the team. Sadly, therefore, Yingsel will not be present. As for their names, the mascots have been variously referred to as Funtwo, Fuzbol, and even Futzpah. Most foreign media have now settled on the term Fuwa, which is unfortunate, as the term has the same sound in Chinese as scrotum.

4. What’s the best way to support the athletes from my own country, without hurting the feelings of all the Chinese People?

You must take extreme care at all times to avoid hurting the feelings of all the Chinese People. This includes such things are not arguing over prices (which suggests that you think the honest merchant you are dealing with might not be 100% honest), not pushing in front of Chinese People in queues, or bringing up the subject of your incorrect understanding of history. In an effort to help you out, the Chinese Communist Party has hired people to cheer for your athletes on your behalf, in order that you will not run the risk of hurting anyone’s feelings. These ‘Cheerers’ are expected to be so diligent, that you in fact will not be required to attend any of the actual events in person, which is why your Visa application has been denied.

5. Will the foreign media be allowed to cover my favourite events?

Of course they will. You will be able to freely watch Ping Pong, Badminton, and Air-Pellet Shooting, as well as any other event in which China wins a medal. In case you miss it the first time, regular repeats will be scheduled.

6. What is the IOC doing to stop drug cheats?

The IOC has full confidence in the Chinese Communist Party’s ability to closely monitor any relevant situation, according to certain relevant Laws. The Chinese Team has already said that they are clean, and so obviously the job of catching cheats will now be confined to catching the foreign cheats who manage to win any medals. Some foreigner cheats have already been caught, when the company in Guangdong that produces their food confirmed that it was laced with anabolic steroids.

7. Where can I buy tickets?

You can purchase tickets from scalpers outside any Olympic Venue. The tickets will not help you to actually get in, but then as a laowai that should hardly come as a surprise. A better bet, would be to have parents who are members of the Chinese Communist Party.

8. Where is a good place to stay during the Olympics?

Home.

9. Where can I go to Party party in Beijing?

That will depend very much on whether you look like you might have come from a certain continent whose resources are being plundered by a certain Asian nation. If so, you will have a wonderful chance to party at Zhengding Detainment Center. If you are instead from Western, then the bars will be closed anyway, in order to show stable and calmly. No dancing, prease.

10. What can I do to show my support for One World, One Han Dream?

Simply this: Do not display Evil Motives against the peaceful People’s Liberation Army and 5,000 years civilisation of China.

Welcome to China, wish you happy happy everyday!

The Olympics. Ever since that first finely oiled naked Greek boy was taken behind the Parthenon and shown where to plant his javelin, it has been a regular 4-yearly occurrence in our lives just like Leap Years and unwanted marriage proposals from women. Those shiny multi-coloured entwined rings mean many different things to many different people. To some, the Olympics evokes nostalgic memories of men in white jogging shorts running in slow motion across a beach to Chariots of Fire. To others, the Olympics will always be Her Royal Highness The Princess Anne having an East European physician stick his hand down her royal knickers in order to assess if her crown jewels weren’t the result of gender bending Soviet wizardry. However, to me, secure here in my beautiful English retreat of Asbestos-Upon-Trent, the Olympics will always mean one thing: having all my favourite afternoon cartoons rescheduled for at least three fucking weeks. Spongebob pissing Squarepants.

Forgive me, dear reader. I am being flippant. Of course, the Olympics are a much more serious affair than the above. More than anything, it is a wonderful opportunity to partake in that wonderful British pastime of Hurting The Feelings Of The Chinese People™. Not that Hurting The Feelings Of The Chinese People™ (or HTFOTCP for short) is a difficult procedure. Only last week, I rearranged my living room furniture and an angry mob of Sichuanese undergraduates burnt down my hanging baskets. However, HTFOTCP is an important duty that every White Supremacist should not shirk, so Olympian size opportunities should not be missed.

The first thing you should check if you want to commit some serious HTFOTCP is the colour of your skin. Yes, just by being born black, you are creating a physical affront to the Han’s shaky hold on reality. Not only are you 802% more likely to take a shiny gold medal from a deserving Sinolympian than a feeble white man; but your very existence is proof that we aren’t all descendants of the Dragon Emperor, nor can we all be classified in their chart of 56 Happy Nationalities. Plus, everyone knows that Chinese people and black people are big fans of chicken, and until Popeye’s or Nando’s sets up shop in the Middle Kingdom, there just won’t be enough of the clucking stuff to go round. In the upcoming Chicken Wars, the inheritors of compasses and paper will be shitting themselves when confronted with the race that brought us Mike Tyson, Samuel L Jackson, and that little guy from Diff’rent Strokes. By being black you are insulting the Chinese people, period. You might as well stick a lampshade on your head, slant your eyes, and bang a gong in Hu Jintao’s face.

But who gives a shit anyway? The Olympics has got to be the most boring event created in the history of man. Exactly how much can one television commentator talk about such nondescript events as Ping Pong (two chaps whack a ball to and fro), Badminton (two chaps whack a shuttlecock to and fro) and Human Rights (two chaps whack a Tibetan to and fro)? It has to be the sporting equivalent of going round to visit a boring and vapid couple who have just had a baby and watching the little bastard run round in circles and falling over, all the while listening to the inane parents say “Look, he’s just ran round in a circle and fallen over!” Why should I show my respect to some so-called gymnast who can stand on one leg for half an hour? All that proves is that he had no childhood and was probably raped once by an unscrupulous gym instructor. Hell, my Uncle Arthur can stand on one leg for half an hour, and he didn’t win any medals – well, apart from that medal he won in WWII for having his leg shot off.

It’s time we cancelled the Olympics and replaced it with something more meaningful; like a cardigan, or broadband for the Welsh. It’s a meaningless, expensive joke that accomplishes nothing apart from allowing the winner of the 400 meters to gain a 12 month contract as the face of Pepsi Cola. If you want further proof that the Olympics is a waste of time and money, just look at the name the Chinese have given to their main stadium – The Bird’s Nest. If I remember correctly, a nest is created by a bird spitting and vomiting all over a bunch of twigs in the vain hope that they will stick together. Replace the word “twigs” with “people” in that last sentence and you’ll have a good idea of the true cost of the Olympic Games to China. If the Chinese really want to continue the charade of boring everybody and wasting loads of money every four years – they should start holding general elections instead. Ahahahahaha.

Spongbob Squarepants rescheduled to 2am? What were the BBC thinking of?

OPENING SCENE: Central Perk Coffeehouse

Ross walks into Central Perk with his head down and a depressed look on his face.
Ross: (sadly) Hiiiiiiii
Rachel: What’s wrong, Ross?
Ross: Oh ……..I just got a phone call. (Yells joyfully) I’M GOING TO BE THE KEYNOTE SPEAKER AT THE PALAEONTOLOGY CONFERENCE IN BEIJING! WOOHOO!
Rachel: Oh, that’s great! Congratulations!
Ross: And there’s more! As a bonus, they gave me these 6 passes……. TO ALL THE OLYMPIC EVENTS! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?
Monica: OH MY GOD! Hey, we should all go. I haven’t seen Chandler for 6 months. I can use some of that good lovin’.
Phoebe: Yeah, I still can’t believe he fell asleep during a meeting again and agreed to head up his company’s Shanghai office
Rachel: That’s a good idea. I could use some time away from Emma. She’s starting to be a real bitch.
Monica: Plus we can visit Joey. It’ll be just like old times.
Rachel: Yeah, poor Joey. After they cancelled his spinoff show he got so depressed he moved to China. I hear he’s an English teacher now and is a DJ at some disco on the weekends.
Phoebe: Well, count me out. Right before my mom committed suicide I promised her I wouldn’t go to China until Tibet is free.
Rachel: Where is Tibet, anyway?
Phoebe: Hmmmm………. South America?
Ross stares at them blankly
Ross: (sarcastically) Yes, that’s correct

ROLL OPENING CREDITS AND FRIENDS THEME SONG (By: The Rembrandts).

THE ONE IN BEIJING

SCENE 1: A classroom at the DOS English School in Hangzhou.

Joey: NO! NO! NO! It’s not “how you DOIN’?” It’s “how YOU doin’?” Let’s try it again. How YOU doin’?
Class: HOW you doin’?
A ringtone of the opening bars of ‘I’ll Be There For You’ (By: The Rembrandts) goes off on Joey’s mobile phone.
Joey: Wei?
Estelle: Joey, it’s Estelle. How ya been kiddo? Listen, I got a job for ya…
Joey: Estelle? I thought you were dead.
Estelle: It’s possible but not unbelievable. Besides, this is all in Lang Lang’s head. Look, do you wanna know about the job or not?
Joey: Sure! Whaddaya got?
Estelle: NBC wants some celebrity guest announcers for the Olympics. So far, Paris Hilton, Gary Coleman, Larry The Cable Guy, Steven Seagall and The Man Who Met Andy Griffith are all onboard. Are ya interested?
Joey: Hell yeah, sign me up!
Estelle: You got it. Good luck kiddo. Knock ’em out.
Joey turns back to his class.
Joey: Now, in English, if we want to say something is really great, we say “It’s abysmal.”
Class: It’sa abysmal

SCENE 2: The cabin of a China Air 747 jet

Ross: …………….and so, in conclusion, due to the sediment flow rate of the alluvial strata from the Protozoac Era and Post Punk Era, the fossils found at the Peking Man Site have been widely discredited and validates my theory that Piltdown Man was actually the first true species of Homo Erectus indicating…
Rachel: Oh Ross, can you just give it a rest? You’ve been going on and on and on for 6 hours already!
Ross: Hey, you’re the one that said you would help me practice my speech.
Rachel: Yeah, well, if I hear about trilobytasaurus one more time, I’m just going to freak out! It just freaks me out!
Ross: I’m sorry. Maybe we should just………… take a break.
Ross: Fine by me!

SCENE 3: The arrival gate at the new Beijing Airport

A pretty Chinese lady is holding a sign that reads ‘Dr. Ross Geller’ It is Ross’s former girlfriend Julie.

Rachel: Julie? What are you doing here? It’s good to see you.
Julie: I live in China now. I’m the dean of the palaeontology department at Beijing Abnormal University. Actually, I’m the one that pulled some strings to have Ross appointed as the keynote speaker at the convention. But I’ll be honest. I only did it because I was hoping he would bring you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever since I left New York. Do you think Ross ever suspected our night of unbridled passion?
Rachel. Not a chance. Actually, I’ve been thinking about you too. That was the most special night of my life.
Julie: I’ve got champagne and sunflower seeds back at my place. Care to join me?
Rachel: I’d love to. But what about Ross?
Julie: (giggling) Let’s ditch him.
Rachel: Ok!

They skip through the airport, holding hands and giggling like schoolgirls.
A montage of scenes switching between Julie and Rachel making love and frolicking around some of Beijing’s most famous landmarks, acting silly, and enjoying some of the Olympic events (especially women’s soccer and beach volleyball) is set to the music of REO Speedwagon’s ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore’
Meanwhile Ross, separated from Rachel after having been caught in the middle of a mob of zhongguotongs that had jumped out of their seats to grab their bags from the overhead bins as soon as the wheels touched the runway, is wandering through the airport looking for her. In the confusion, a pickpocket has stolen his wallet and mobile phone The snippy girl at the China Air counter has just informed him that his bags have been bumped to a later flight. Walking in a daze he accidently bumps into a longhaired Italian guy. He turns around and they recognise each other.

Paulo: Rossa! Marinara. Tutti spumoni frutti pesto. (English translation: You fucking horse-faced buttmunch).
Ross: Paulo. Gee, I never expected to see you here. Have you seen Rachel around by any chance?
Paulo: I teacha the English. I worka the sama schoola witha Joey.
Ross: Oh…… great. Listen, I’m having a bit of a problem. Can you loan me a few bucks? I’m promise I’ll pay you back as soon as this all gets straightened out
Paulo: Vafanapoli! Palermo pizzaria roma. (English translation: Go fuck a goat! Suddenly I’m your new bestest friend. If there was a fire, you’d save me first and then your whole family, right? I wouldn’t loan you a wooden nickel)
He makes the insulting Italian gesture of throwing his fist up from under his other arm and storms off. Ross dejectedly walks away, almost in tears.

SCENE 4: The NBC broadcasting booth at the Bird’s Nest Stadium

Bob Costas: And joining us in the booth today we have a special celebrity guest. Why, it’s Joey Tribbiani from the hit TV series FRIENDS and the not so hit show JOEY! Thanks for joining us Joey.
Joey: WOW! Are those nachos?
Bob Costas: So, Joey, what is your favourite Olympic event?
Joey: Well Bob, I like to watch the women’s gymnastics. I mean, can you imagine the sexual positions those gymnasts can do? They’re really bendy. How YOU doin’?
Bob Costas: Joey, you know, most of those girls are like….. 12.
Joey: Well let’s see……… I’m 38. So when I’m 76, they’ll be 24. And I see tons of 70 year-old dudes with 20 year-old babes around here. Especially up there in those CCP and IOC luxury suites. DAMMIT! Why doesn’t this country have any decent nachos?
Bob Costas: What about other sports? Do you like archery?
Joey: I wonder if it hurts when those girls fall on the balance beam and land straight on their crotch.
Bob Costas: Uh……………… OKAAY! That was Joey Tribbiani, formerly Dr. Drake Ramoray of the daytime soap opera Days Of Our Lives. Thanks for stopping by…
Joey: What? I got to leave now? But I just ordered a meatball sub!
Bob Costas: Security!
Joey is immediately swarmed and dog-piled by about 20 PLA troops and undercover police
Joey: HEY! LET GO OF MY MISTERS!

SCENE 5: Pudong Airport, Shanghai

Monica sees her former boyfriend, Richard, walking through the airport.
Monica: Richard? It’s me, Monica.
Richard: Monica? Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you. You look…………. different
Monica: Yeah, after Chandler got sent to Shanghai, I kind of put on a little weight. I ate an Oreo every time I got horny, to try to compensate for lack of sex. I ate a lot. Lot-lot-lot.
Richard: Really? How much weight did you gain?
Monica: 235 pounds. So, what are you doing here?
Richard: I come here every August to give free eye surgery and glasses for the poor.
Monica: (adoringly) Awwww… Oh, there’s Chandler. Hey Chandler! Over here! Look, it’s Richard!
Chandler: Oh my god, Monica. Could you BE any more fat? And where are the twins?
Monica: Uh…….. I ate them. (sobbing) I’M SO SORRY!! I ran out of Oreos.
Richard: Well, I’d better catch my flight to Qinghai. Nice seeing you guys again.
Monica: Bye Richard! (She gestures her hand like a phone and mouths the words ‘Call Me’)
Richard: (smiles, strokes his moustache and walks away, whispering under his breath) Chandler, you poor bastard.
Monica: So, there’s a broom closet over there. I think we have time to knock out a quicky before we meet Joey and catch our flight to Beijing.
Chandler: Uh……… no thanks… Maybe another (he coughs the word ‘life’) time.
Monica: (shaking her hips and moving her hands down her sides) You mean you don’t wanna get-with-this?
Chandler: Whoa, take it easy there Michelin Mon.
Monica: (angrily) WHAT?
Chandler: Look! Joey’s here!
Joey: DUDE!
Chandler: DUDE!
Monica: Ok. Dude alert.
Joey drops his bags and gives Chandler a million-dollar, back-slapping hug.
Monica: Well, I’ll leave you 2 girls alone. I’m gonna go find the ladies room. I gotta pee.
Chandler: Yeah, well be careful. Those toilets were sooooo designed for Chinese-sized asses, not………. reindeer….. sized……… asses.
Monica scowls at Chandler as if he were toilet film and then uses the FRIENDS way of flipping the bird by clapping her fists together 2 times, then stomps off.
Chandler: I still got it!
Joey and Chandler laughingly do the finger-pull hi-five thingy.

SCENE 6: Inside the ladies restroom at Pudong Airport

All the toilet stalls are full. Monica is holding her crotch and shaking with pain trying to keep from peeing in her pants. Finally, a toilet flushes and a girl vacates one of the stalls. Monica walks quickly towards the stall when suddenly Zhang Ziyi cuts in front of her. Monica taps her on the shoulder.
Monica: Excuse me, I believe I was next in line.
Zhang Ziyi: This China, you fat laowai. There no line. Don’t you know who I am?
Monica: You listen here, missy! I’ve been waiting here a long time.
Zhang Ziyi: I know kung fu. You don’t want fight me.
Monica: Maybe I do. I’m pretty feisty. Slut!
Zhang Ziyi: Tramp!
Monica grabs Zhang Ziyi’s neck and shoves her face into the toilet. A giant splash of toilet water accidentally flies straight into Monica’s mouth. Zhang Ziyi jumps up and gets into a fighting stance and aims a couple of roundhouse kicks at Monica’s head without effect. She is clearly outmatched (and outweighed). Monica grabs her and puts her in bear hug.
Monica: (with a Mexican accent) ANACONDA SQUEEZE!
Locked in a life or death struggle they thrash around the room, neither willing to surrender. Suddenly, Monica slips on a giant gob of yellow phlegm and lands directly on top of Zhang Ziyi ( all 337 pounds of her), nearly crushing the life out of her and fracturing several bones. Monica gets up to walk away. Stops. Then grabs one of Zhang Ziyi’s ears.
Monica: You know, if we were in prison you would be, like, my bitch.
Zhang Ziyi: (sprawled on the floor, her body the texture of tapioca pudding, moaning with pain) ooohhhhh………….s hiiiiit…..

SCENE 7: Zhongshan Park

After several days of wandering around Beijing, an unbathed, unshaven and generally dishevelled Ross is nearly at the end of his mental rope. He lies down to take a nap on a park bench. Suddenly, a gust of wind blows a business card onto his face. He looks at it but it is written in Chinese. He drops it on the ground. The card flips over and lands on the ground revealing the other side, in English. He recognises the name on the card.
Ross: Oh my god! Julie? She’s here in Beijing?
With a renewed energy he stops a Beijing resident and throws him off his bicycle.
Ross: (pretending to flash a police badge) Beijing PD! I’m commandeering your vehicle! He pedals away as fast as he can.
Park Security Guard: Hey, that gweilo just stole your bike!
Beijing Resident: It’s ok. I can just steal another one. He hands the guard a 5 kuai bill
Park Security Guard: That red 10-speed over there is pretty sweet. The guy won’t be back for hours.
Beijing Resident: Thanks.

Exhausted and breathing heavily Ross throws the bike down and runs full throttle up the stairs of one of the staff apartment buildings at Beijing Abnormal University.

SCENE 8: Julie’s apartment

Julie hears a pounding and opens the front door
Julie: Ross? What are you doing here? Quick! You’ve gotta get out of here!
Ross: Oh Julie, I can’t tell how glad I am to see you. You have no idea what I’ve been through.
Julie: Ross, this is kind of a bad time. I’m really busy. Can you come back later?
Ross: But…… but……
A voice comes from Julie’s bedroom
Rachel: Juuuuliiieeee. I have a surprise for yoooouuuu.
Ross: Hey, that sounded just like Rachel.
Julie: (nervously) Uh….. uh….. no. It’s just the TV.
Ross: Wait a minute. He pushes past Julie and goes into the bedroom and finds Rachel on the bed, naked, except she’s wearing a huge strap-on dick. WHAT IN THE NAME OF RUBBER CEMENT IS GOING ON HERE?
Julie: Ross, I can explain!
Rachel: HEY! WE WERE ON……. A BREAK!!!
Ross:(gazing up to heaven) Are ya kiddin’ me?

EPILOGUE: Phoebe, Ross and Monica are lounging on the couch back at Central Perk
Phoebe: Wow, Monica, look at you! I can’t believe it!
Monica: I know!
Phoebe: What happened?
Monica: I caught dysentery! Isn’t it the best thing ever? I spent 2 weeks wishing the toilet had a seatbelt, but look at me now! I’m back to my Season 3 weight.
Ross: So Pheebs, what have you been up to while we were gone?
Phoebe: Oh, great news! Mike got a gig playing keyboards for that really cool band called Dulang on their world tour…
Ross: Oh, I love those guys! Does he get to talk to Cissy? Mike is soooo lucky!
Phoebe: Yeah, I know. He just called me from Tierra Del Fuego. But before he left we broke into the NYU Laboratory and released 50 spider monkeys and a French poodle. Actually, the poodle just laid there and licked his balls. But the spider monkeys ran up a tree right above some pro-China demonstrators and pelted them with faeces.
Ross: Ahhh, good times.

Dear People of China,

I am writing to you for two reasons; firstly to congratulate you for the remarkable restraint you have shown whilst your government has spent countless Trillions of your hard-earned tax money on what is, let’s face it, two weeks of sports that rarely attract any attention except for once every four years. Secondly I would request that you exercise this same restraint once the games have come to an end.

You are to be commended, People of China, for your enthusiasm for the Olympic games, an event which, take the 2012 London Games as an example, in any other country is viewed by the general public as a massive waste of public time and resources, and a huge burden to the tax payer. The British Government are as complicit as your own in trying to dupe the public, don’t get me wrong; in the UK it is billed as a vehicle for regenerating impoverished areas, whereas in China it is billed as a show-case, a “coming out party” if you will, for China and the Chinese people, and to demonstrate both the economic miracle of the last couple of decades, and the openness and transparency that the Government has achieved during the same period.

The games are necessary for your country to demonstrate that it is a true Super-Power, after all you have an incredibly robust economy, you have the Atom Bomb, you have a massive and growing rift between the haves and the have-nots. What else was there to achieve? So it touches me greatly that you are able to stand by, without so much as a grumble, while your government tears down the cultural heart of your capital city, and removes residents from their homes in order to pave way for the building of a successful two-week festival of funny walking events and synchronized swimming.

I have nothing but praise for you too, for unquestioningly taking your cars off the roads for a few weeks in order that the Olympic athletes have something akin to semi-breathable air for the 14 or so days they will be guests in your country. It is not a concern of yours, and neither should it be, that your children have been breathing a toxic soup of deadly chemicals from unregulated industry, transport, and construction, for the last decade and more. No, the identikit men in dark suits who sip tea in ZhongNanHai know best, and have always known what is best for the people. After all, they wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings now would they?

So, it is with the pride of a father seeing his son hit a cracking drive through the covers, that I see you wearing your I Heart China T-shirts with such joy, a look of anticipation and dare I say it pride on your own faces. Yes, this is truly China’s hour, this is the start of the great things to come.

Except, what is there to come?

Since 2001, when the Olympics were awarded to Beijing, this country has focused entirely on building up public enthusiasm for the Games, and to making them the best possible success. But afterwards, what is there to look forward to? Once the last medal has been awarded and the athletes, tourists, and press have all gone home, once the last broadcast has been aired, and the last article in the Sports pages has been replaced by the latest English Premier League news, what is next? What will the countdown clocks be counting down to?

Be wary, People of China, about what will come next. Do you expect that any openness and transparency that the government has been forced to exercise because of the Games will remain in their wake? Do you expect that the cleansing of the air in Beijing will be of significant importance once everyone has gone home? Do you think that any semblance of even those tiny cracks of freedom which may have opened up because of the Olympics will be allowed to stay open after the event?

I think not, People of China, and that is why I urge you to continue to exercise restraint in the months and years to come.

Thanks for listening, and good luck both for a successful games, and for a future that is not, and could never possibly be, in your own hands.

Kind regards,

TaiTai

You see, at the end of the day, the French are as bad as the Chinese.

All of the Chinese people will be taking great glory that the Olympic Games have returned to the motherland where they originated, and the opening of the game will be on 08/08/08 at 08:08:08 .

Or not.

That’s right. The Olympic Games will officially begin on 08/06/2008. Period.

If you’re a Chinese citizen and you’re reading this, put down your jiaozi and call your Congressman.

That’s right. The Chinese Government lied to you. You, the renmin. You see, those sneaky Laowai have intentionally sabotaged China’s ______ up party by scheduling events early.

I know, I know, this is quite a surprise huh? Can you believe it? The government of China bowed their head and gave in to the Laowai. The CCP capitulated and allowed the IOC to start the Olympics early. It was perhaps, punishment, for blocking the Laowai Media (LMing’s) access to the internet. Or it could simply be an oversight on behalf of the Beijing Olympic committee. Or maybe, just maybe it was Al-Qaeda…

In either event, I am quite happy that at least 99.9% of the sickeningly smug look of satisfaction on the face of the CCP will shine through the egg on their face in Technicolor when they have to admit to the Chinese people that the Olympics begin with a football match (invented in China), unheralded, on 08/06/08 in a shitty little countryside village.

Reference: http://en.beijing2008.cn/schedule/

So, you the renmin, have meibanfa.

LaoLao.

Don’t worry about the pollution, the Beijing authorities have been telling us.

Factories will shut down. Cars will be taken off the roads. Skies will be seeded with silver nitrate and clouds conjured away to leave the air perfect for the world’s athletes.

That’s the theory. Happy to lay my lungs on the line in the name of unscientific research, I decide to head out into the city on a long run to test conditions first-hand.

The initial signs are disconcerting.

As I jog down the stairs and out into Monday morning, the concrete tower-blocks of the Green Homeland Media Village are shrouded in what looks like a heavy autumnal fog.

Even with the sun completely hidden away in the grey blanket up above, the heat is intense.

Traffic is roaring by on the Beiyuan Lu expressway, soldiers in pale khaki shirts and white gloves marching in rectangles around the security barriers. I wave at a group of staring schoolkids and head south towards the Olympic Green.

Five minutes down the road, my t-shirt is already drenched, hanging heavy off my shoulders.

It’s 9am. At this time of day, the Olympic marathon runners will still have seven or eight miles to go.

The triathletes won’t even be starting the run leg of their races for another three hours.

I pass a woman whose mobile has an Axel F ring-tone and realise that my throat has started to feel sore, as if I had a cold coming on.

Maybe it’s the road I’m running alongside, I think, and head down a side-street in search of a patch of greenery.

Another five minutes down the line, there’s a strange lumpy feeling halfway down my throat. An old chap watering a freshly-planted verge hawks up a fat lump of phlegm and flobs it expertly into a plant-pot.

When in Rome, I think, and spit into the gutter with relish. The metallic taste in my mouth remains.

It’s not easy working out where to go. The haze obscures anything more than 100m away. I’ve picked a bad day – today the BBC reading registers 292 micrograms of particulate matter per cubic metre (the World Health Organisation target is 50).

I’d planned to aim for the Bird’s Nest Stadium 5km away, but there’s as much chance of me spotting it in these conditions as there is of me doing the pole vault there in 10 days’ time.

The road stretches into the gloom, the two dedicated Olympic lanes completely empty of traffic while buses and bikes fight for position in the other lane.

“One world, one dream,” read the banners flapping from the lamp-posts. My map shows a large park off to the left, but everywhere you look are tall fences and short officials with strict instructions to keep you out.

At the halfway stage, my eyes have started to feel gritty, as if I’d been out all night in a club full of smokers. Three weary-looking blokes slumped on a bench ni-hao in my direction as I rub my eyes and I ni-hao back.

The stinging in my throat gets worse as I head back north, the Bird’s Nest lost somewhere in the smog.

Towers of apartment blocks loom slowly out of the mist. Young blokes on mountain-bikes pedal past while shouting into mobiles, which at least makes me feel more at home.

Every now and then a solitary soldier stands on a small plinth, staring into a seemingly random direction with a blank expression.

My lungs feel half their normal size. No wonder an asthma sufferer like Haile Gebrselassie decided to sack off the Olympic marathon, even though he’s the world record holder.

The only other time my lungs have felt this bad was when I got stuck behind a brigade of belching buses while foolishly cycling down Oxford Street.

By the final few miles I’m dragging my legs along like sandbags. There could be several reasons for that – seven hours of jet-lag, the cannonball-like lump of egg-fried rice lodged halfway down my digestive tract, a delusional attitude towards my own fitness – but I’ve also taken it incredibly easy.

How much worse would I be feeling if I’d really opened the lungs up and got my heart-rate going?

At the end I’m coughing like a 20-a-day man. It’s like I’ve borrowed the lungs of my colleague Ben Dirs – and if you’ve ever seen Dirsy trying to walk up a flight of stairs, you’d know that’s a very bad thing indeed.

In the long list of cities that you’d never want to run in again, the competition is fierce.

Choosing between the traffic-choked hell of San Salvador or the dusty madness of Delhi, for example, is almost impossible, while a man can lose so much fluid in sweat in Kuala Lumpur that he’ll grow a beard before he visits a urinal again.

Until today, however, I’d always considered Cairo to be out there alone at the top of the pile.

Not any more. And when would they ever stage an Olympics in Cairo?

– Tom Fordyce