Ah fer Christ's sake...

Dear Olympics,

Fuck off and die. I'm sick to death of hearing about you.

No love in the slightest,
clappamungus

Seriously, the next person who engages me in conversation about the goddamn Olympics will find their head shoved somewhere into a dark, warm place that smells like what they ate for breakfast, only older and more rotten.

I don't care about Stephanie Rice being our new "Golden Girl", nor do I care about medal tallies, and I certainly haven't watched a minute of it. Yet, everywhere I go, there it is. People crapping on about it. People stealing my newspaper so they can read the liftout. I've started to say "no, sorry, I left the liftout at home" just so I can see the looks on their faces. it's like I just strangled a kitten in front of them.

Yes, I'm a misanthrope. Yes, I'm anti-jingoism. Yes, I'm bitter and twisted.

No, I don't really care.

I'll be so glad when this goddamn farce is over.