Tag Archives: london2012

Becky says things about … what the hell we’re all going to do now

Right, so um … yeah.

Well, er … I mean we could … um … you know …

Dunno, really.

What ARE we going to do now?

I think I’ve forgotten how to live normally. What will we do with those minutes in which we used to check our London 2012 Results app? Go to the toilet? Have an apple? Kill a badger? I just don’t know. What will we do without the cheery smiles of Gary Lineker, Sue Barker, Gabbie Logan, and the rest of the lovely BBC sports anchors? How will we cope with hearing news stories about what’s going on outside the Olympic Games (I know, it’s a shock to be reminded that there is stuff outside London 2012 – I didn’t want to believe it but it’s true)? Instead of cheery gold medals and 15 year old girls putting their legs in their ears or something, we’ll have to hear about bad stuff like war and thievery and general naughtiness.

What will we do without cheering everything that anyone does? We’ve spent two weeks cheering literally everything with such gay enthusiasm – and we got really good at it as well – that I just don’t know what we’ll do without it. What does it mean to not cheer something? No, I can’t remember, either.

What will we do without the constant achievements? Without daily gold medals? We’ve had two weeks of almost hourly confirmations that WE’RE GREAT, but now what? Surely we can’t just go back to plodding along and never getting a prize for anything.

And after all becoming superfans of every sport that’s ever been invented – you know, the really interesting ones like cycling, rowing, gymnastics, judo, athletics, badminton, BMX racing – we’re now being abandoned by all those brilliant sports, and left with ruddy bloody boring shitty football. After two weeks of watching some of the most brilliant athletes and sportsmen and women in the world, we’re going to be back in front of a load of monstrously overpaid arrogant twonkheads scuttling and diving round a pitch and pretending they’re the best things since sliced bread. Brilliant.

 

I don’t want to go back to a normal life. I don’t want that cloud of sporting and patriotic greatness to dissolve and leave us with NOTHING. It’s like we’ve been looking after a noisy but thoroughly wonderful and entertaining toddler for a fortnight, but now its mum and dad have got back from holiday and taken it back. We are bereft. Nothing left to do but stare at the wall and contemplate our own miserable, tedious, meaningless little lives.

 

Life without London 2012 is shit.

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Filed under London 2012 Olympics, Thoughts and Musings

Becky says things about … why Britain should never doubt itself again

The list of ‘How Britain Can Make a Huge Cock Up of Everything During the Olympics’ was endless. Our weather would be terrible, we’d never live up to Beijing, there’d be huge pile-ups at passport control, the stadium would collapse, the fireworks wouldn’t go off, the water in the Aquatic centre would be the wrong type of blue, the doors to the Velodrome would open the wrong way, we’d present an opening ceremony filled with Morris Dancers and bell ringing, and the rest of the world would be sitting smugly in front of their TVs and pointing and laughing.

These Games have cost more money than it would cost to ditch our world and build another, bigger, better, and more fun world in the space of galaxy next to us, and then ship all 7 billion people from our world to that world in a fleet of ten colossal and luxurious spaceships with indoor swimming pools and cinemas, then give everyone a million pounds as a welcome into the new world and a sign of good will, and finally blow up the old world to provide us all on the new world with a fantastic fireworks display. That’s a lot of money. And we’ve voiced our thoughts on how much money it is.

Like we do for everything, us Brits anticipated these Games with acute dread and prepared to heinously embarrass ourselves.

Well.

I think we all deserve to give ourselves an apology.

Maybe we’ll learn from this – maybe we’ll stop shrouding ourselves in pessimism, stop fearing the worst, stop apologising (let’s face it, we’d all prepared a written apology to read to the rest of the world after we’d cocked everything up, hadn’t we?), stop being embarrassed by ourselves and everything we stand for, and instead hold our little heads up and say ‘We’re British. And we’re fucking brilliant.’

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Filed under Health and Exercise, The Beauty of Life, Thoughts and Musings