One of the great things about watching the Olympics is how fast you can become an expert in something you had previously never heard of. 'Look at that,' you say, 'Look at his shoulder, way out there. And those toes! I mean, please, you call that luging?'
'I think it's skeleton,' says your friend.
'Whatever.'
Meanwhile NBC pursues its growing obsession with Bode Miller. I fully expect Bob Costas to tounge-kiss him before the week is out.
I like the Chinese pair for skating to Led Zepplin, but the chick should seriously consider investing in a hot oil treatment, or twelve. (I'd critique the fashion, but frankly, I don't know where I'd start.) But if anyone busts out with the Daft Punk, I don't care what they look like, I say they win. And for all I know of the new scoring system that might be true.
The Russian guy bears a striking resemblence to Ryan Stiles, of 'Whose Line is it Anyway'. Only scary.
The Dutch must just be kicking themselves for inventing inline skates.
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