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G-Boy's Olympic Games coverage
We here @ 2idiots have spared no expense sending our correspondant off to Sydney Australia to cover the 2000 Olympiad. Although Bass fishing is not an event @ this years games we hope that by increasing the level off drug usage among participants we will qualify for the next games.
Previous ramblings:
| Sept 15 Arrival in Sydney | Final post script |
Sept 18 ,2000
Here G with the latest column:
Mega-stir,
Awoke in a pool of sweat to a thud, thud, thud at my hotel suite door. It was 6:15 P.M. as I tried to make it to
the door with a pounding headache beating louder in my head than the sledgehammer-like thuds which graced the presence
of my door. It was Guy with his giant hand with sausage-like fingers smacking my door around mumbling something
about the opening ceremonies and the need for us to get going pronto.
This called for a quick remedy to allow me to gain some composure before having to deal with the Circus Maximus of the big event. A quick shower and a couple of margaritas accompanied by a few bong loads put my mind back into perspective. The Great White Shark had the limo ready and waiting as I butterfingered my way past the hotel lobby. The sanctuary of the limo allowed me to pen the last few lines as we cruise through gridlock traffic to Stadium Australia where the opening ceremonies are to be held.
We arrived fashionably late, amidst the tumult of large gatherings; lots of security, painted faces, flags and other assorted paraphernalia, and a few g'day mates thrown in for good measure. Guy assured me of our credentials as I was struck by the usual paranoia of being way over the wall for actually belonging to these surroundings. I bumbled out of the limo, cocktail in-hand, to the greeting of many eager-to-please youngsters with official-looking badges waiting to escort me to the press box where I presumably belonged. I lost those losers in a second as soon as I found my way into the fray of hot boxes: the hallowed ground of the glitterati - the Bill Gates and Hillary Clinton's of this world.
I stumbled around these hoods for a while, catching a glimpse of some of the evening festivities with my "passport" around my neck like a pennance. Things were quite amusing for a while watching them watch themselves...but I soon got bored and found my way to the press box. I was jonesin' for a sighting of the Great White since I was in no state to deal with what was to become of me. I was surrounded by gibberish and finally esconced myself in a seat where I could plug in and tell you about this madness.
Things were going great through most of the numbers until the barrier reef creature episode. The sight of the enormous creatures caused some type of short circuit in my swollen cortex, a flashback from deep inside my twisted neuron patterns. I was glued to my seat but was screaming inside to get the fuck out of there as a giant jellyfish was about to gobble up some poor kid who was obviously being used as bait by some demented fishing crew who hung the child from wires in the middle of the stadium.
Between the jellyfish and an enormous lantern fish with huge glowing eyes and teeth the size of a sub-compact car, I convinced myself that I had to make a break for it before the creatures began to have a field day by taking chunks out of the crowd. I was finally able to get up and launch myself over the slackjawed crowd that just sat there ooohing and aaahing, blissfully unaware of the doom that awaited them all.
As I clawed and stomped my way over full seats away from the sea monsters I caught a glimpse of Guy to my left running to intercept me at the top of the section while, to my right, a dozen security guards seemed to be doing the same thing. Poor bastards, they will be gobbled up in a second if they attract the latern fish over here with all that movement. I stealthed out an exit right below me and hid in the bathroom for what seemed like hours until I thought it was safe to come out.
I finally emerged at field level to catch the tail end of the parade of athletes; the two korean representatives jostling for position as they carried the flag stumbling over themselves, the U.S. team, led by kayaker Cliff Meidl who had apparently survived a 30000 volt jolt a few years back which undoubtedly has given him some type of Xmen superpower strength...if this isn't a case of major doping I don't know what is, and finally the Aussie team that launched small kangaroo shaped objects into the crowd.
I found an entrance to the maze of tunnels under the stadium and stumbled around down there to see if I could find the Wizard of Oz orchestrating this whole spectacle from a panel of levers deep inside the bowels of the mega-stadium. After a few minutes of nondescript pipe filled tunnels, I found some type of giant mechanism which made me think I was reaching my target. I stopped for a rest when all of a sudden the whole fucking mess of cog wheels like some type of giant clock started to grind into motion, swallowed my laptop up whole and came to a grinding stop.
I spent the next few minutes trying to get what was left of my computer out
of the jaws of the infernal machine until finally the mangled mess of plastic, silicone and wires was spit out
and the machine started up again...slowly raising what I recognized as a giant fiery platform up a huge 45 degree
angle track. Holding the remnants of my laptop a huge surge of adrenaline hit me as, looking up at the apparatus
I realized what the fuck had just happened... I had almost ruined the opening ceremonies by destroying the mechanism
that carried the Olympic flame to its fortnight resting place. It was time to chum the Shark and get the fuck back
to the hotel before an enraged possy of Aussies tarred and feathered me before dumping my half dead carcass as
dingo meat in the outback mate.
G(onzo)-Boy out (hopefully not for good)