Everybody who talks to me regularly must hate me. Swear to god, pretty soon it won't be all figure skating all the time- I'll get over it. I always do.
Let's get the inevitable out of the way: My boy Johnny was robbed. Not of a medal, mind, because he clearly wasn't in the top three, but you'll have a hard pull ahead of you trying to convince me there's any justice in him coming in behind Patrick Chan. Inevitable part 2: NBC color commentators are best seen and not heard.
In the meantime, I have discovered the following things:
1. There is in in fact a
ice_slash com. Of course there is. I won't be reading any, but it's good to know it's there, like confirming the world is still turning on its axis. (Their picspam tag did get me
Lambiel nibbled by a llama, though. Good times.)
2.
This picture sends me to my happy place.
3. Related to #2, it turns out that Johnny Weir can land a
perfect throw triple. (And
again. Though not so much with the
death spiral.) I do not know why he has this skill, but I could not possibly be less surprised.
4. Related to #3, it turns out that there are Lambiel/Weir vids. Not just any vids- there are sappy OTP slide-show style badvids on YouTube set to Russian love songs. No joke. Sure enough: world turning on axis.
5. And here is
Lambert/Weir. Let's just file it under "the laws of the universe dictate that this fic had to exist." I'm surprised it took so long, really. Oh look! There's the sun, rising in the East. (No really though- that's hot, and her voices are fun.)
I'll just be over here watching old Brian Boitano performances on YouTube until the high wears off.
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