- Suspicions that some sports are open only to people from the ruling class have been dismissed as ‘piffle’ by the president of the Royal Yachting and Horse-Riding Association, Sir Barnaby Blitherington-Smythe KMCG, OMG, WTF. Speaking from the railings of his 70-acre home at Twaddle-by-the-Water, Hampshire, Sir Barnaby’s fourth under-gardener told me to ‘bugger off before I set the hounds on you.’
- That woman on the telly, the one who used to do the snooker, has been nominated for a media award after coming up with something they can fill up a few seconds with instead of twattering on about things being ‘incredible’, ‘unbelievable’, ‘fantastic’ and ‘brilliant.’ After each event, commentators will be shown leaping about on the chairs in the commentating room and after that pretend to be embarrassed about it in a coy, embarrassed way. A spokesman said, ‘This Olympics has allowed us to invent whole new ways of being phoney and bland.’
- That ping-pong player who, on being asked how proud he was to have won a bronze medal in front of a home Olympic crowd, something which only comes round once in a lifetime, replied, ‘Well, on a scale of 0-100, taking everything into account, I’d say I’m proud enough to reach 64.3,’ has been banned for not taking things seriously enough. A spokesman said, ‘His seriousness, on a scale of 0-100, fell below 23.4. This is just not acceptable.’
- That Emeritus Professor of Epistemology and Logical Positivism at some university, who suggested that the Olympics, like Ant and Dec and The One Show, ‘can only exist on the telly and, without the telly, has no existence whatsoever,’ has dwindled into a little white spot and disappeared completely.
- Horse-Prancing ? HORSE-PRANCING ??????
- ‘So, Brad Runner, gold…the home Olympics…you must be gutsmacked….phenomenal….fantastic….retirement and a lifetime of talking drivel on the telly….but what do you say to those who accuse you of being a blind but willing collaborator in the cause of global capitalism, organised mass-gluttony, moral and intellectual infantilisation, fleeting distractions, mindless infatuation with the momentary and trivial, totally uncritical acceptance of lying, shrieking, stinking, putrid crap which The Man forces us to suck up ?
‘How do you feel, Brad ?’
‘Fantastic. Phenomenal. Words can’t describe….’
‘Shut up then.’