Chapter 12: In which the author strings together a series of sub-standard puns vaguely related to the Olympics
Posted by chouchoulaowai on Thursday, August 14, 2008
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?