It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Oh, the inhumanity!!!

Apparently the fans of US Olympic skier Bode Miller are making his life a living hell. Miller says that they put "inhuman pressure" on him and that fame is a "poison".

Now, a novice like me has great deal of difficulty recognizing the fine line between massive publicity campaigns, making controversial statements to the press, the constant late nights, parties, television appearances, interviews with Yahoo!, etc. and the brutal, uncaring, cynical fans who, like vampires, are sucking the very life force from this noble, pure, occasionally blotto athlete.

Bad fans! Naughty, naughty fans! They should clearly be flogged with a ski pole.

Or maybe Bode is a dolt. Yes, that makes much more sense. Bode's a dolt.

He got what he went for and now, in the aftermath of his failure to live up to the hype, it's all our fault. Of course. We told him to change skis a few days before the race. It was Mrs. Miriam Chesterfield of Dubuque, Iowa in fact, the trollop. Mr. Robert P. Nicely of Augusta, Maine specifically told Bode to stay up until midnight the night before the Olympic downhill, the arrogant Lobster-state bastard. In addition, Mr. Juniper Q. Winchesterrifle insisted that Bode appear on NBC no fewer than 700 times in the last four weeks. He should be Zamboni'd within an inch of his life. No, better yet, tie him to ski-lift with barbed wire and set the lift to "Autobahn" speed.

If they put Bode on a box of Wheaties, that will cinch the fact that General Mills are a bunch of souless wheat cereal pushers, sapping the mojo from his precious bodily fluids to convert it to ethanol for their limos.

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