Playful, elegant, and not above the judicious use of the word “shit."

Drunken Olympic blogging without the drinking

We’re watching the Olympics tonight, the Giant Slalom, when the uncomfortably large Austrian competitor, Hermann “The Herminator” Maier, starts his run down the mountain. He’s got thighs the size of a grain elevator, and right as he jumps out of the gate his jaw juts out to reveal a set of teeth I once saw on a polar bear that was ripping the head off a seal.

Since Bode Miller just finished his run a short while ago both Jon and I get their names mixed up and for a brief moment are under the impression that someone named Hermann Miller is competing in the Olympics. When Hermann gets about halfway down the mountain Jon says, “You get the feeling that he’s not going to be designing any chairs today.”

His run is crazy; a body that big should not be going that fast without a seat belt. At one point I think I can hear the mountain moan under his weight. When he finishes and stops a giant fountain of snow pours up from the ground over his head, and when it clears he’s gasping for breath with his mouth wide open, his jaw unhinged. And then he walks over to the stands and promptly eats a human.

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