We are Forerunners. Guardians of all that exists. The roots of the Galaxy have grown deep under our careful tending. Where there is life, the wisdom of our countless generations has saturated the soil. Our strength is a luminous sun, towards which all intelligence blossoms... And the impervious shelter beneath which it has prospered.
Wednesdays are leg day at the gym for me, which of course means approximately two hours spent doing squats and deadlifts in the crucible of will and steel that is the squat rack. Now, you would think that the worst thing about leg day is, well, the fact that it involves lots of squats. But actually, the absolute worst thing about it is in fact the TV programming at my gym.
There are four TV screens in the place, and they are typically used to distract people while they're plodding away aimlessly on the cardio machines at the back. They also tend to provide gossip fodder for the "every day is chest day, brah!" asshats who often show up in pairs or (God have mercy) triplets.
Now, for reasons that are quite beyond my comprehension, most of the time, these four televitzes are tuned into the Clinton News Network. I do have a theory about this. There is one such TV screen mounted just above and to the left of my squat rack (yes, it's mine, I've been using it religiously for more than 5 years). My theory is that the proprietors of my gym- who are actually really good guys, since they've happily tolerated my chalk-embalmed-angry-gorilla-with-weights workouts for years- have put that TV there, and tuned it almost permanently to CNN, specifically for the purpose of driving away the quarter-squat types and curl bros that tend to glom on that sacred altar of the Iron God.
Undoubtedly, the manly men and lovely ladies who read this blog are vaguely aware, somewhere in the periphery of their consciousness, that there is something called "the Olympic Games" happening at the moment. Apparently it's some sort of huge sporting event where all of the world's nations send their athletes to... do whatever it is they do.
Based on what I'm seeing, of course, "it" evidently involves a lot of bonking. I can't say I'm surprised; you're putting the world's fittest Alpha-male competitors in the middle of the world's fittest female athletes. If they weren't jumping each others bones, I'd question their right to be called "athletes".
Anyway, all of that aside, I am also quite sure that precisely none of you give the slightest quantum of a damn about the Olympics. Like me, you probably could not care less*. A few truly remarkable exceptions aside, the Olympics have long since gone from being about epic demonstrations of legendary athletic abilities, to being an SJW-converged shitfest about how little Billy overcame massive adversity and some horrible congenital disease, only to finish 8th in a race against the world's best.
News flash: we don't care. All that matters is who wins and who loses. Full stop, period goddamn dot.
So of course, like most of you, I pay next to zero attention to the Olympics.
With, however, one exception: women's beach volleyball. And it is not exactly difficult to figure out why.
"Who won?" Who cares?!
So there I was, just about to start on my really heavy sets of squats, when I looked up and realised that a women's volleyball team event was about to start. The teams involved were the USA, and Switzerland- for some strange reason, since as far as I know Switzerland is a completely land-locked country and doesn't have any real beaches worth a damn. I didn't think they even knew what a volleyball is.
But anyway, this was very much a good thing, to my mind. After all, what better motivation is there for a young man to be in the gym lifting stupidly heavy things than to watch beautiful scantily clad young women running around after balls?
It was at that point that I realised that the viewers of the event were about to get ripped off. Big-time.
You see, the event was not women's beach volleyball duos, where the ladies traditionally do play in the next closest thing to Speedos. This was team volleyball, and frankly, the women involved might as well have been a bunch of nuns. The Swiss ladies certainly looked like they'd just come out of a convent, given their uniforms.
This annoyed me no end. I'd been robbed.
Look, if you're going to waste my time with stupid coverage of a sporting event that I cannot be arsed to watch in the first place, at least provide some entertainment value in the process. Especially if I'm watching women's sporting events, which are for the most part completely useless.
To make up for this egregious oversight, this blatant injustice, allow me, your humble servant, to present some gratuitously stupid bikini shots of some of the women competing in Olympic beach volleyball:
Now we can all go back to ignoring the Olympics, as we should. Wake me up when they're finally over and we can get back to making fun of the Hilldebeast.
*My dear American readers,
Please take note: the CORRECT usage of the phrase is, in fact, "could NOT care less". Americans have this enormously irritating habit of saying, "I could care less", as a mark of their insouciance. (Yes, I know, that's a big word. That is why the English gave the world dictionaries.) This is not only incorrect, it is APPALLINGLY bad English. While I realise that you stopped speaking English some 240 years ago, it is still immensely annoying to listen to you lot butcher the language given to us by Her Majesty's loyal subjects.