Cheek Clinches Gold, And Better Yet, People’s Hearts

Moving on to the most important event of the weekend... THE OLYMPICS.

Suffice it to say, I watched pretty much every hour of the Olympics aired in the past 4 days, beginning with the very confusing Opening Ceremonies, where the poorest people in Italy were paid handsomely to dress in cow dresses and pull paper mache cows across a fake frozen lake. That deafening thud you heard in the middle of the “ceremony” was likely my caveman jaw hitting the parkay floor in my room (yes, my floor is made of margarine). I mean, this shit cost upwards of $40 million dollars? Seriously, if someone gave me $40 million dollars for any sort of opening ceremony, I would at LEAST guarantee an army of Antonio Sabato, Jr. look-alikes (or, with that kind of money, direct clones) wearing ruby-encrusted banana hammocks, riding in on half-dead unicorns who can fart fire, while Celine Dion skydives into the arena using a parachute made of broken promises, or something more exciting than paper-ma-fucking-shay cows.

Here's the first 15 minutes of the ceremonies if you missed them. Make sure to keep a pillow under your face in case you "mysteriously" pass out.

I used to think the Winter Olympics were my favorite of the Winter/Summer options. I also used to get totally jazzed about the upcoming Olympics, tears brimming in my eyes from the mere thought of them alone. Maybe it’s age, or maybe it’s the fact that the Olympics are now every two years instead of four, or maybe it’s the fact that the cataracts are finally taking over my vision. Either way, the Winter Olympics have lost their edge.


Unlike "The Cutting Edge", which I’ll still readily quote off-hand at various upper-crust cocktail parties.

But, of course, I still spent the better part of my weekend laying in a near coma, eating pita chips, and watching people work their asses off.

The lowlights: I found pairs skating to be DEATHLY boring. Usually I love it (especially when there’s intrigue and espionage involved), but watching nearly every performer fall flat in their new, short-bus-riding unitards was terribly dull.

Also, is it just me, or does anyone else not really care all that much that Michelle Kwan dropped out?

The highlights: As usual, skiing was exhilarating, although there was minor soul-crushing going on as America’s Favorite Wolf-Boy Bode Miller finished in a disappointing fourth place. There was an amazing clips reel yesterday of some poor souls falling off the track one after another. Undoubtedly the most entertaining clip of the day.

Speaking of excitement, can we talk speedskating?

I love speedskating! Love it! Always have, but now more than ever. Especially thanks to the Noah Wyle of the skin-tight bodystocking set, Joey Cheek.


Joey Cheek! So cute! So generous! So fast! So Gold Medally! Joey Cheek!

I tried to impart Cheek’s adorableness to resident bestie Annie T. last night, which led us to do a simultaneous, bi-coastal Google Image search (LA to NYC), only to discover a handful of blurry, small or overall unsatisfying snapshots of Joey.

But one picture did catch our eye. A picture entitled “What’s that on your cheek, Joey?”


Tell me this is not the goofiest looking kid you’ve ever seen? I laughed for minutes and minutes.

I won't be around to see tonight's events, as I'm performing in Becky Yamamoto's Valentine's Day Spectacular at Galapagos in Williamsburg (North Sixth St., $5, 8 pm, and I'm singing!). But I'll try my best to recap something tomorrow.