(no subject)
I was going through some old videotapes (trying to clear away debris from my life post-move) and throwing many away. I took a little trip back in time to the 1994 Winter Olympics, to the figure skating competition which I taped off TV. OMG teh drama!! Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan and the hit man and the injured knee and the malfunctioning skate lace. Drama, drama, drama.
May I say publicly that, whatever Tonya's many faults, I hate Nancy Kerrigan. She was a spoiled princess rich bitch, an ice-queen-with-an-overbite sore loser. There are athletes and there are jocks; she was a jock. What a fool she made of herself with her bitchy little comments about other skaters.
But...rising like a swan above all the drama was the ineffable balletic grace of Oksana Baiul, sixteen years old, poetry in motion, who richly deserved that gold medal (no matter what Miss Kerrigan thought).
Okay, all done. The tape is in the trash.
May I say publicly that, whatever Tonya's many faults, I hate Nancy Kerrigan. She was a spoiled princess rich bitch, an ice-queen-with-an-overbite sore loser. There are athletes and there are jocks; she was a jock. What a fool she made of herself with her bitchy little comments about other skaters.
But...rising like a swan above all the drama was the ineffable balletic grace of Oksana Baiul, sixteen years old, poetry in motion, who richly deserved that gold medal (no matter what Miss Kerrigan thought).
Okay, all done. The tape is in the trash.