5 Ways to Enjoy Terrible Winter Olympic Events
There may be times when you're forced to watch the Winter Olympics: Perhaps your cable is out, maybe you've been taken hostage and you're tied to a chair with only the TV for company, or perhaps you're just boning an Eskimo. Whatever the case may be, you've suddenly found yourself face-to-face with a whole lot of boring and it's on you to find a way to make the best of it. But don't worry! It's all in how you view it.
For example, if you're ever feeling the least bit down there is literally no better pick-me-up on Earth than the Winter Olympics. Think about it: These people spend every waking moment of their entire lives devoted to these sports just for this one moment, and if the slightest thing goes wrong their whole existence goes straight down the drain. And even if everything goes right and they turn in the performance of a lifetime, nobody even gives a shit because in the end run, it's still curling. If you find yourself contemplating what the business end of a gun tastes like this week, just flip on the Winter Olympics, watch events likes these, and instantly feel better about your terrible, lonely life:
I've decided to go ahead and combine the luge and the skeleton into one entry because, as far as I can tell, they're the same event. The only real difference is with the skeleton, you lay on your stomach; with the luge, you lay on your back. Just think of skeleton as the gay man's luge. Luge, on the other hand, is also the gay man's luge.
Anyway, a wise man once told me, "Go ahead, try to make the luge sound interesting, it's just a person sliding around with an ice skate blade attached to their back." That's most certainly true, but it's also what makes the luge so awesome. Out of all of the events taking place here, this is the only one you will watch and say to yourself, "Yep, I could be an Olympic athlete." There is literally no talent required other than the willingness to pour yourself into a latex suit and sled for real. You know who can do that? Everybody. You think watching the ski jump is going to fill you with that kind of confidence?
Or You Could Just...
Snort cocaine. As excellent as the thought of an Olympic event filling you to the rafters with self-confidence may be, one simple fact remains... you're watching the goddamn luge. If you're looking for the same kind of chest thumping self-confidence without all of the residual boredom, you're going to have to bump a rail or two. It will make you feel like a destroyer of men in mere seconds. Sure, it's illegal, dangerous and crazy expensive, but can you really afford to put a price on your self-worth? I submit that you cannot.
Another entry, another combined event. But this isn't my doing, there is actually an event called Nordic Combined. Apparently, somewhere along the Winter Olympics timeline, someone decided that it wasn't enough for athletes to compete in both ski jumping and cross country skiing. No, for maximum badassery, athletes should compete in BOTH ski jumping AND cross country skiing. Did that added emphasis in the last sentence do anything to clarify why this shit exists? Probably not. And therein lies the awesome(?)
You know who competes in the Nordic Combined? Pussies, that's who. Unless you actually live in Norway and your commute to work involves a 15k cross country ski and a leap off of a mountain, nobody is willfully competing in both of these events at the same time. Don't bother protesting in the comments, because I just wrote that and now it's on the Internet: That means it's true. No, what happened was, at some point, the powers that be decided that what these Olympic games need is more people gliding across blankets of snow and suicide leaping from huge hills. What's going on here is plain and simple corporate dickery: The Man got a huge boner for cross country skiing and ski jumping and decided he wanted more. And time and again, these idiot athletes put up with having to do both for no good reason at all.
But not you. You're an individual. You're a rebel. You wouldn't be caught dead ski jumping after you just spent countless hours trekking across the plains on skis made of fiberglass and fury sweat. When The Man sat you down and said, "Hey, nice skiing, now go jump off that mountain" you'd reply with a manly, "Hell no" and a swift punch to the solar plexus. You're a total badass, and the fact that you aren't competing in Nordic Combined proves it. Doesn't that make you feel awesome?
Or You Could Just...
Go to work tomorrow and punch your boss. Hard. In the face. You don't need their monkeyshines anymore and it's time to let them know it. Seriously, that's exactly like refusing to participate in the Nordic Combined. Just like it.
Christ, again with the cross country skiing! It's like the Danger Mouse of Olympic events -- just mashing up everything in its wake. Now that we have that hipster reference out of the way, let's talk rifles; because rifles are exactly what's going on here. Rifles and cross country skiing. Together. Finally. FINALLY!
Imagine if the 1500-meter run during the Summer Olympics was interrupted every 50-meters so the runners could break out firearms and start shooting. You would watch that. Well, just add snow and skis and you've got the same thing here. The only thing more awesome than this would probably be that Cuba Gooding, Jr. movie where he trekked all through the snow shooting at dogs and whatnot. You remember that film, yeah?
Or You Could Just...
I'm certainly not going to suggest that you run roughshod through the streets with an actual rifle. That would be ridiculous and terrifying and completely uncalled for depending on your location. But a water gun never killed anyone probably. Why not take one to the gym? Hit the running track and, as you pass the hordes of grannies walking at a snail's pace, discreetly whip that shit out and blast. Your urine. All over everything. Just like Cuba Gooding, Jr.
Has anyone on Earth ever actually watched a curling match? Nah, but if you let Wikipedia tell it (and they always tell it true), it's stupid awesome. How awesome? Check it:
The complex nature of stone placement and shot selection has led some to refer to curling as "chess on ice."
Holy shit! Chess? On ice? Who the hell doesn't like watching chess? Imagine taking all of the boredom and confusion that comes with watching brainiacs move chess pieces around and combining that with people in silly shoes furiously shaking brooms around a big ass rock!
Shit, I'm not buying this at all. Fuck curling. But hey, if it's your thing, enjoy it. You weirdo. Or Canadian. That was kind of redundant.
Or You Could Just...
Play shuffleboard and take a nap. I want to take a nap just thinking about curling. Actually, forget the shuffleboard; you're not curling, so you've already won!
This entire article has been building up to this moment; the moment when I can drop all pretenses and be honest with you, the reader. Here goes... I fucking love figure skating. Women's figure skating, anyway. Men's figure skating is an abomination that should be jettisoned from the public consciousness post haste. But that's neither here nor there. Let's talk about women's figure skating.
You know what I've spent my life doing? The same thing that you have: Nothing. As a result of that particular life track, few things give me more joy than to see another person's dreams go down in flames. And nowhere will you see more hopes dashed in such a brief amount of time than when you're watching women's figure skating.
These ladies spend, literally, over half their lives preparing for this one moment. Before they take the ice, you're almost always treated to a teary eyed back story about how their parents saw something special in them so, for the sake of developing their budding talent, they sold their house, moved 800 miles away to be closer to the best coaches and unloaded the less talented kids onto black market child traffickers. It's a sacrifice, sure, but more than worth it so little Oksana could pursue her dream of winning a gold medal at the Winter Olympics.
And then, with a 1/16th of second miscalculation, Oksana's potentially medal winning triple toe loop turns into an embarrassing fall and slide of shame halfway across the ice, preferably ending with a slamming into the border that separates the audience from the no good fuck up who just made enemies out of her parents.
And just when you come down from the smug high of knowing that, with that much training, YOU certainly would have nailed that jump, you get to see it all over again with the next skater. It's enough to make a man want to frame that Chili's Employee of the Month certificate. It's not much of an accomplishment, but at least your failure didn't take your parents and, by extension, your entire country down with it. Well done, sir. You are truly a champion.
Or You Could Just...
Sit at a casino for six hours. There will be far fewer chicks in figure skating costumes flying through the air, but there will likely be several whores on the premises. And when it comes to sitting back joyfully as hopes and dreams are squashed, no place on Earth has more of that per capita than a casino. Everywhere you turn, someone will be making a shambles of their once productive life. It's awesome. You may never be an Olympic athlete, but you aren't any of these people either. And that makes you a winner.
Or see some more from Adam right here on Cracked, with 6 Places You Should Never Twitter From and 5 World Leaders Who Were Accused of Being the Antichrist.And check it out: Cracked has an app for your iPhone!