Games of shame

Well, the Olympic torch-lighting ceremony was about as much fun to watch as one tramp pissing in another tramp’s mouth. There’s nothing quite like a fat politician greasily mouthing platitudes at a lectern (too busy to learn his short speech no doubt) while some hapless protestor is bundled off in the background.

Later, during the progress of the torch, a new Olympic sport – protestor punching. Basically, two Greek goat-fuckers took time off from putting rohypnol in the retsina and fucking goats to work part time as policemen and punch protestors.

Why is it that foreign policemen always look like escaped prisoners who have been living rough for weeks in the woods. Do these people not know how to shave?

You can tell that protestor punching is a sport because the guys were wearing track-suits. Obviously, on a day when the entire media of the world is looking on, it’s important to look your best and nothing quite says authority like the sort of track-suit favoured by eastern European field-workers, gyppos and sex criminals.

I’m already worried about what will happen in London. The last thing we need is to have British bobbies having to worry about peeling protestors off the torch when they should be keeping the streets clear of crime and the tube clear of Brazillians. Instead, why don’t we just have the route lined with ‘free Tibet’ posters? What’s wrong with that? Better than ‘drink Starbucks’. Or have the torch bearer wear a free Tibet shirt or badge.

Or headband – in fact I think that the symbol of resistance for Tibet against those rice-eating panda-fuckers should be the red headband – handy, as this is normally the colour of any head-dressing after the Greek ‘police’ have caught up with you.