King Shit of Gold Medal Mountain

My brain, like every Dope City brain, is trying to process their Olympic experience. It is a two part process: our own personal experience and the wider community experience.

I attended no events and only spent one day in the city getting shitfaced with the world. Therefore my personal experience was limited. Lucky for me I get a lot out of my experiences. Seeing so many of my countrymen wearing the Canadian flag, singing our dreadful anthem and being nice to foreigners freaked me out a little. I liked it better when we saved the flag for our backpacks when overseas just to make sure as few people as possible mistook us for motherfucking Americans; when the only people who knew the words to O Canada were the anthem singers at hockey games; and when foreigners were not freaked out by the presence of our taser happy RCMP.

Other than that the only difference the Olympics made to my life was to massively increase the amount of time I spent in front of my television. That was a good thing. I drink even more than usual when I watch the figure skating babes doing their bendy shit on the big screen.

Dope City thinks it is King Shit of Gold Medal Mountain now and so it should. The city put on the best motherfucking party in Canadian history. Until now Dope City thought the only thing it was good at was growing dope, rioting and rusting.

My own city of Steepleton was aghast at what they saw going on in the big city to its west. The sinning that is such a big and integral part of hosting an Olympic meet does not sit well with my fellow citizens, the majority of whom would vote for Sarah Palin if given the opportunity, their only misgivings being that she may not be conservative or dumb enough for their liking. I expect my city to soon put in a bid for the Prayer Olympics. I am already training to win a seat in the four man Bible Thump.