Olympic cacophony and harper's redemptive ploy

Leave the politics where it belongs - in Parliament
Oops, forgot! - Canada's been hijacked by a used car salesman
By Seamus O'Bradaigh
Men in serge suits telling boys and girls on slippy slidey vehicles - and various other accoutrements of winter travel - to own the podium is ludicrous.
Always was and still is today
Boys and girls in form fitting spandex,  lycra, and sharkskin do not like to be told what to do.
Mostly they just go out and do it.
And not like Nike.
More like Alex, and Heil and Josee and all those other athletes who put their lives on hold and their futures on the line for a chance, a spark and a glowing glittering moment to represent their country.
It's laudable and it's right.
Right that we have brave young men and women who crash, tumble, spin off axis for this great nation.
None of this is hyperbole.
Take a look at the fucking scars on the knees and the ankles of those athletes who work for a wage that parlays into about $325 a month.
So Stevie Harper get your quintessentially smarmy mug out of those fucking photo ops for christs's sake,.
You moronic hunk of used car sales and practitioner of the ultimate ponzy scheme.
The Canadian government thinks that because it donated millions to the coffers of winter athletes it also earned the right to demand some bang for their collective buck.
Yeah? Well, bullshit.
Crap! Because it ain't your fucking moolah you piece of bull dung, wiseass pond scummers.
It's our money.
It's Canada's money.
And if we think our Canadian athletes have done a great job, and I for one do, well it's not up to you to demand some kind of medallion recompense for the dollah-dollah bills we poured into athletic programming.
Judas priests. Asking for your 30 pieces of silver.
We need to invest in our youth.
That's not a political mandate it's a human imperative.
So fuck you Harpy Harper, you and your wallowing grubbery, and minced metaphors and camera angled shots with the great one and the other great ones who make up this panoply of Canadian sports.
We now know why you engineered a stoppage of parliament.
And don't call it a prorogue you mealy mouthed piece of dipped shit and hardwired mediocrity..
It's not a prorogue, it's a cessation of the democratic process.
It's a fucking hijack.
A hijack for a few well-placed photo-ops.
You fucking pirate.
You inveterate shrugged piece of peameal bacon.
You endured some down time in the polls and relied on Canada's lack of long term memory to engineer a rise back up in the polls and it seems to have worked.
You can thank the electorates capacity for stupidity for that resurgence in the polls.
You gave us  a crooked smile, and an equally bent agenda.
And in the new budget I'm betting that Canadian athletes will once again be low on the podium.
And you know what?
That's okay.
Because I personally believe in the Canuck capacity to endure in spite of bureaucratic agendas.
We don't need to own the podium, but we certainly need to invest in athletics.
Obesity, type two diabetes are the hallmarks of an increasingly moribund youth.
Our youth need inspiration.
And they won't get that from a used car salesman turned PM or a bunch of has-been athletes turned bureaucratic mechano men with a vision to own a fucking podium.
Our youth will get that from Alex and Tessa, and of course Josee.
And they would have gone out and wrenched tears from inertia with or without that $325 per month.
I dare you to take credit for this gold medal mark harper you whinged and whiny epithet.
Go ahead give it a try.
No more photo ops.
No more hugging.
No more smiles and salutes as the flag is raised.
Now Steveie we have you back where we want you you slug.
Back in parliament.
Back to answer a few questions.
Like why you pay homage to gutsy performances.
But don't have the guts to perform in your own arena for three months.
It's medal time Stevie.
Put on your fucking flak jacket.
Cos'the bombs are comin'.
You fucking ferret.

Gold medal girls drinking beer

Canadian women win gold - so celebrate dammit!
by Seamus O'Bradaigh
And the old farts that commingle with whores, hefty expense accounts, and shady dolla-dolla- bill meanderings with wannabee host cities have deemed that the post-game celebrations on the BC Place ice by Canada's gold medal winning women's hockey team nudge rudely the accepted norms of the euro-haute-couture mini-piss-ant byzantine empire known as the IOC.
They come, they spew, they vent, and say that it's not in the spirit of the Olympic games.
Yeah?
Well fuck you bozos.
We couldn't give a rat's ass and dick what you roman nosed ersatz dunderheads think.
This is Canada.
In Canada we play hockey. And we freakin' win too!
When we win, we smoke some stogies, drink some beer, and comandeer Zambonis.
Shit!
When we lose, we drink beer, smoke stogies and jump all over the Zamboni driver.
So shut the fuck up.
We don't want to hear the moans, groans, and haughty tones emanating from the jumped-up, bellicose, fat-ass, caviar-picking, champagne-guzzling, International Olympic Committee suits.
I'm talking to you Jacques Rogge, you trumped-up, gelatinous excuse for a lump of jiggling buffet left overs.
The IOC's executive director of the Games, Gilbert Felli, described the incident as "not what we want to see" from Olympic athletes. 
The International Hockey Federation and Canadian Olympic Committee will both be looking into the actions, and the IOC has asked them to "act accordingly."
Gilbert Felli?
Who the fuck is Gilbert Felli?
Shut the fuck up Gilbert, or we'll dig up some dirt on your fat lard ass.
Let's do that shall we?
Gilbert Felli on Google.
Gilbert was born in 1947 and he's from Switzerland.
He was a member of the Swiss Alpine ski team until 1983. He then went on to coach ice hockey ... in Switzerland.
His Wiki page stipulates that he was cut from his first hockey team. That's when he went to the alps and got his fat-ass Swiss banker father to payroll his meteoric rise to a spot on the Swiss downhill team which at the time was ranked 14th in the world.
An old news report from the Geneva Times states that Felli was removed from the team when he shit his pants during a World Cup race at the Hahnenkamm. According to the news report "Herr Felli was so distraught midway down the mountain that his bowels exploded in an excruciating projectile that split the seams on his ski suit and left a musty trail of brown right down to the base of the village in Kitzbuhel.
Felli tried to return to the Swiss team, but was never able to recover from the incident.
Some say it was because of the nickname that followed him through the rest of his racing career and still comes up in conversation today.
The nickname?
SMELLY FELLI of course.
Case closed. 
A suit with a Swiss army knife, brown underwear and a grudge. 
So Shut the fuck up Smelly Felli. 
It's Canada and we'll do what we want. Including beat you with a wet noodle and a box of Immodium if we hear another word from your overstuffed caviar-sucking maw.
Shove your tut-tuts and go back to Geneva, sit by a roaring fire and slurp up some hot cheese.
Please.
I hear it's good for diarrhea.
Both verbal and other.
And then do us all a favor.
Go take a shit.