This word is trending right now.
It’s trending because of the Olympics because they’re threatening to go Pete Tong (but won’t) but really the word could apply to a lot of things and it has the potential to become a real favourite of mine.
It could apply to the Easyjet check in process that I experienced at Naples airport last week. Well, when I say process I mean complete lack of process. It truly was an omnishambles and could have been solved so simply with a bit of literal (not even lateral) thinking. Four flights checking in at around the same time (over about 40 minutes) and five check in desks one dedicated to fast pass check in that nobody was using because we ain’t falling for another way for SleasyJet to rip a tenner out of you) but anybody could check in to any desk. The result? As each flight became perilously close to gate closure all the remaining passengers were called to the front in a massive scrum – the worst case being 50 schoolkids headed to the front of the queue that we were in and held us up for half an hour. Truly, miraculously stupid. The solution. One desk per flight and if you arrive late you miss your flight. Simple.
It could apply to David Cameron and his House of Lords debacle. Frankly it could apply to David Cameron. Full Stop.
It could apply to Rangers FC and the entire farce that has attended the unraveling of their legacy of cheating.
It could apply to the mess that Lothian and Borders Police made of traffic managing the closure of the Edinburgh Bypass on Saturday when I nearly missed my dear Friend Kennny Harris’ funeral (as it happened I was 50 minutes late).
You see, omnishambles could become omnipresent in my vocabulary. Look forward to it.
Why oh why oh why does every event in Beijing have to allude to 2012 in London. Please just let us enjoy these Olympics.
You know what it is. It’s Britain’s endless ability to see itself as superior to the rest of the world. And they’re scared. These Olympics have been astoundingly good. Forget the politics for a moment. It has been a feast of sport in magnificent facilities with an opening ceremony that you simply could not have conceived of. So what does the BBC do? It projects forward to 2012 in such a way that makes this Olympiad seem of secondary importance.
It insults me.
It insults Britain’s Olympic team.
It insults Beijing.
Who's the daddy?
I’ve just had the privelege of watching the Olympics 100 Metres Men’s final in which Usain Bolt not only rewrote the history books he rewrote how to run 100 metres. First off a new world record. Second, he did it winding down. Thirdly, he had so much fresh air between him and second place that it was verging on embarrasing.
But the style? It was simply beautiful.
I thought it was a novel concept to listen to synchronised diving on the radio. BBC Five Live covered Tom Daley’s exploits in detail this morning. The commentary went something like this.
“And he’s jumping up and down in anticipation of the dive and he’s up in the air…splash…and he’s dived.” Pause. “That was a mediocre reverse pike with full twist and…oh dear…another bad score.” Pause “Well, it’s only reallly a warm up for London 2012, we never expected him to do well anyway.”
One of the highest rated dives of the competition, by the Ruskies I think, was, to my admittedly untrained eye, completely unsynchronised. Put it this way, one of the bloke’s bodies was at one point reading 6pm on the clock face while his partner was at 3.15. They splashed down together and scored 92 points.
Am I missing something?
Get out the boody way.
We watched Beth Tweddle kick the lower bar in her qualifying routine but still qualify. ( i think it was a secret part of her routine that added to the degree of difficulty. I mean, it would have been much easier to miss it!)
But the thing that gets me is those blokes that dive in and about the poor lassies’ feet in case they fall off
It’s my contention that it’s not despite these crazy guys that they fall off it’s because of them.
GET OUT OF THE FLIPPIN’ WAY YOU BIG GALLOOTS!
You didn’t see that big British lass, Becky Downie, using one of those ‘catchers’ – she’d have flattened the poor gadgey. And she never fell off.
The highlight of the competition was listening to that female English commentator (Christine Still) willing, really willing, the French to fall over on every piece of apparatus so that England could qualify.
The sense of hollow compliments as time and again the French did a bit better than they needed to was hilarious.
“Yes (I suppose) that was very good (bitch)” She’d proclaim through teeth more gritted than the M8 in a snowstorm as another French burd got a 14.3 or thereabouts.
“We only need one of them to have a cardiac and the English are through.” she said at one point. (Nah, she didn’t but she might as well.)
I’ve always loved the word ‘repechage’ but thought it was a hard word to fit in to day-to-day chit-chat. And let’s face it most of you ain’t got a clue what it actually means.
But it is an Olympic buzz word and it’s a word I’ve been mulling over a lot in my mind since Monday
So this, dear reader, is what it means.
It means…being crap but getting another chance.
Michael Phelps kept me up late tonight but got the first of his eight attempted golds, with ease.
George Bush was in the crowd waving his flag like a total asswipe.
I’d so love to have said he looked like a total retard but I know I’d face politically incorrect shit and stuff. So I won’t. (But he did. You had to be there.)