Looks like Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh have been making the talk show rounds as of late. I spotted them on Letterman and again on Ellen via Tivo, my reliable old friend. On the off-chance that you do not own a television and were not held captive by eight hours of Olympic coverage per day last month, Misty May and Kerri Walsh are beach volleyball players.
My interest in watching beach volleyball ranks somewhere between making a godseye and getting a bikini wax. I'm not overly enthusiastic about it. These two wedgies, however; are complete lunatics about their sport. From what I can gather, neither is the sharpest tool in the shed either.
Often spotted around Beijing wearing "crazy" wigs, sunglasses and drinking beer from an old school helmet, tailgate style, I wondered if their insanity stemmed from the fact that they were simply wasted? Not so. After their gold winning match, sly commentators gave us a glimpse into their diminished mental capacity.
Commentator: Congratulations you two! You've just won Olympic gold again. The first women's team to repeat in back to back Olympics. How do you feel? Can you put it into words?
MM & KW: We have to thank Mr. Bush. Without you, none of this would be possible. We love you Mr. President!
That's right. The tools thanked George W. Bush. They squealed that if it weren't for him, none of their success would be possible. Now just how in the bloody hell did GWB turn these women into Olympic gold medalists?
By critiquing their form and giving them gentle, non-lecherous pats on the bottom of course. It's a damn good thing he was there - all 14 days - or Misty might have suffered from the dreaded burnt ass cheek syndrome, effecting one in five pro volleyball players. All hail the monkey.