Lonely Week with the Olympics as my companion

Forewarning, I wrote this apathetic post last night, bitter about my job and disgusted by the amount of Olympics that I have watched this past week. I apologize if this offends anyone.

The Australian broadcast of the Olympics has been hilarious. These ass muppets show the most bizarre sports, presumably because they actually medal in these bizarre events. For example, have you ever seen Field Hockey? Yeah, me neither, but if you can use your vivid imagination conjure up ice hockey but being played on the streets, yet sans rollerblades or roller-skates. Wait, I have seen it before, it was a scene in Wayne’s World where Garth and Wayne play hockey by themselves in the street. In summation field hockey is an absolutely pathetic athletic endeavor.

However, the absolute pinnacle of utter athletic befuddlement eluded my viddy until tonight when I witnessed Men’s Handball. Please tell me you’ve seen it?! If you haven’t, don’t worry, the game is a combination of Soccer and Basketball. Perhaps Soccerball? Or no, Basketccer sounds better. For cereal, that is all this game silly game is. I had the honor of watching a game between Russia and Denmark here in Australia this past evening. Titillating, rest assured. Oh, and Russia won. No doubt Georgia’s pissed at this turn of events.

Am I the only won who can’t wait for the Olympics to end? Probably. Yeah, Michael Phelps is bad ass, and it is quite incredible to see him destroy everyone, but dude, the only way watching the gamer here in Oz is to mute the TV. Announcers here in Australia make Bob Costas appear to be a Nobel Laureate, and listening to their mindless, self-propagating gibberish makes me feel like I am stuck inside of an Orwellian drama. It doesn’t help that I have had a shite week at work. This week has made me feel like a serious loser. I feel helpless and pathetic since I am incapable of getting a job of my own accord. ‘Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage’. What a great line, eh? Wish I had written that one.

Depression and angst won’t be the only topics of this post though. The surf has been cold this week. REAL cold. I surfed Tuesday morning at Dee Why with Jay. We had a peak to ourselves the entire session. Fun 2 foot lines were coming through, and we had an enjoyable session. It was refreshing until my last wave, where I got hung up in the lip and landed on the fin of my board. Cut a hole in my sweet wetsuit’s knee, all the way through, giving myself a gash as well. Could have cared less about the gash, I was just bummed about my wetsuit. So this morning I tested out the wetsuit (with it’s new hole) and no surprise it took in some water. Bummer. The waves were 3 to 4, but unfortunately the banks (sand banks that is) couldn’t handle it. The majority of the waves were closeouts, however, I was able to snag a real nice left that delivered a whole lotta speed and glide. Stoked. Funny how little it takes in a surf session to really get you excited. Guess that’s because a lot of times, especially surfing beachies, getting a good ride is such a rare occurrence.

Veronica’s been gone all week in Dubbo. It sucks when she is gone, big time. I can’t wait for her to get back tomorrow/today. Excited about seeing ‘Tropic Thunder’.