On our last full day in Canada, we headed up to Whistler for men's ski jumping. If I was a true feminist, I'd insert a good diatribe here about the IOC's refusal to allow women to ski jump at the 2010 winter Olympics. But let's face it, I'm a bit of a lazy asshole in my old age, so if you're interested, do some Googling or Binging, and read up on it for yourself.
As someone who's fairly afraid of heights, I don't know how these mofos jump off a ledge on such a crazy ass tall hill. I'm fairly certain there's got to be at least a few mind-altering drugs involved, eh?
Here's some live action so you can almost feel like you were there, except without a frozen ass planted on metal bleachers:
Apparently the ideal body type for ski jumping is Kate Moss. All of the men looked like they were about 6'5" and 110 pounds. Not really my type, but to each their own, eh? (Yeah, your goddamn right on my last Canada post I'm gonna say "eh" as much as possible.) This is one of the American dudes. Americans aren't really winners in the ski jumping category, it turns out.
At the hockey game the day prior, a really cute couple sitting behind us asked us if we wanted them to take a picture of us and I was like, no thanks, Mr. FGD and I have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, and I don't really need another picture. Although I'm a total insensitive asshole, when Mr. FGD threw his camera at someone at ski jumping and asked them to take a picture of us, I figured I'd better comply if I ever expect to see a Valentino in my future.
That night we went to a medal ceremony for women's snowboarding half-pipe and a couple men's ski events. That was pretty cool. I'd like to stand on a podium someday and receive a gold medal, even if it's just for surviving the Barney's warehouse sale or successfully making it through 7 plastic surgeries in one day.
I was sad to leave Vancouver. Mr. FGD said I wasn't nearly the asshole he expected I would be, so I think the Olympics treated me really well. Vancouver is fucking awesome, and I really love me some Canadians, despite their insane fanaticism for some truly boring sports.
So until my next trip north of the border, or to Sochi in 2014, I say goodnight Vancouver, with love.