There is nothing and yet everything to say about this.
Since Words to Bumble has been in a frenzy of obscure winter sports for the past week… well, why not keep it going with something new, ridiculous and only mildly related to winter, compliments of Shaun White—the snowboarder formerly known as the Flying Tomato—and The Black Keys.
The Black Keys’ music video for “Howlin’ for You” is presented like a theatrical trailer for something that pretty much only guys would want to go see.
Fair is fair.
At 0:23 White shows up in a sex scene which ends with his one awkward line: “That was amazing.”
It’s pretty funny.
You are welcome.
This came to me via a newly discovered UniversalSport.com blog that I wish I wrote: Mr. Universe.
The Four Continents figure skating competition serves as a counterpart to the European Championships, bringing together athletes from the Americas, Asia, Africa and Oceania in a warm-up for the upcoming World Championships in March.
Mirai Nagasu and Jeremy Abbott of the U.S. both suffered disappointment at Nationals this past January, where neither delivered a strong enough free skate (after Nagasu led and Abbott stood in second coming out of the short program competitions) to represent the U.S. at Worlds in Tokyo next month.
Nagasu was swept back by Alissa Czisny, despite a solid long program that still garnered her a bronze finish; Abbott suffered a couple falls and could not stand up to the positive energy behind Ryan Bradley, coming in just off the podium in 4th place.
Of course, bronze and one step off the podium—in the great scheme of things—are not to be sneezed at, but Abbott was the defending champion (and fourth place is always rough city in medal sports) and Nagasu has serious demons to battle whenever she leads in the short.
So basically, this Four Continents competition took the place of Worlds for Nagasu and Abbott this season.
They made the most of it.
After a strong short program that landed her in fourth position, Nagasu finally hit the perfect Memoirs of a Geisha free skate that has eluded her all season, winning her the bronze behind Miki Ando and Mao Asada (World Champion) of Japan, leading the American women at Four Continents.
The aerial view of a spin element around 1:45 is a neat vantage point not generally shown. The whole program was delightful and the expression on Nagasu’s face at the end because she knows it, is priceless.
Also the announcer accidentally proclaimed that she was representing Japan before a hasty correction was made. Hello awkward.
Abbott came out of the men’s short program in second position and delivered his season’s best in the free skate (148.98, 225.71 total), likewise landing himself on the podium with a bronze medal, the leading American man.
I love that Life is Beautiful free skate. Love it.
Sandra Bezic agrees, calling it “one of the most beautiful programs I’ve ever seen.”
Like Nagasu, Abbott prevented a Japanese podium sweep, standing behind Daisuke Takahashi and newcomer Yuzuru Hanyu.
So, dear Mirai Nagasu and Jeremy Abbott: Way to strike back. Words to Bumble ❤ you.
This should not be allowed to happen. Someone needs to talk to people like Jeremy Abbott and Kanako Murakami, who think that wearing half of one costume and half of another stitched together is OK.
It’s not a real thing.
It’s not a thing.
I am not even going to make jokes about ‘oh hey did you run out of black velvet halfway through?’ (like those Universal Sports fashion slide show folk). I am just going to say that you are hurting my soul.
Really. Stop it. Pick one.
You both look ridiculous. And I like you both, but I cannot condone these eyesores.
Stop the madness.
Sidenote: Murakami obviously got some feedback about her Mask of Zorro costume, because she changed it from red to lavender… why, why, why did she not change the whole thing instead of just half?
I am boggled.
And Jeremy, wearing half a sports jacket cannot be comfortable.
Because it sounds mathy, sciencey and pretentious even though it just means “not in harmony or keeping with the surrounding or other aspects of something,” AKA just a way of being awkward. Like lots of figure skating costumes and dressing up to go out in extremely cold or wet weather.
After a heady night of live-tweeting the annual television broadcast of that cinematic masterpiece The Ten Commandments, it was time to head uptown for some church-going followed by Easter brunch and fun. The sun was shining, the breeze was warm, the F train behaved itself beautifully and I even made a delightfully timed transfer to the B/D, which is where all the trouble began.
First of all, I cannot even tell you whether I was on a B or a D train because on the weekends such minutiae are immaterial to the MTA, which prides itself on ever-changing weekend routes and schedule, an utterly inaudible public address system and a malevolent sense of whimsy regarding the fate of its passengers.
This is a rant.
So there I am–listening to some Bishop Allen on my iPod, fully reflective sunglasses still propped on my nose despite the undergroundness, brunch supplies safely stowed in a large tote– just minding my own business. At Columbus Circle the long and foreboding announcements make their appearance. I pause the music and attempt to decipher the message, which indeed did sound a lot like a recent New York Magazine reconstruction:
“”Ladies and ____lemen the ___ stop will be ______erhorn. To repeat, the ___ stop will be Broad____ . If you are traveling to ____lin Street _____ now and ____for the ______ train on the ____bound track.”
The train continued to idle as the driver repeated his instructions a few times and I slowly came to what I thought was a sense of clarity regarding my transport destiny. My understanding was that my train would run express to 96th Street and then switch to local service. My destination being 103rd, I thought to myself, “Perfection.”
Mind you, the train is still idling inexplicably and the announcements are droning on and on as more passengers enter the subway car. Also keep in mind that according to New York Magazine, the D train is one of the top three worst lines for announcement clarity and that overall 55% of subway announcements are unintelligible. Note it.
An older man boards my car, looks right at me (you remember, the girl listening to her ipod, reading a magazine and wearing sunglasses so as not to be disturbed) and asks, “Is this training going to 96th?”
At first I ignored him since clearly I was not to be interacted with, but once I realized that for some reason he had chosen to discuss the matter with me, I confirmed.
Downhill, downhill, downhill.
The train did not stop at 96th. It did not stop at 103rd. It did not stop at 110th. It did not stop until 125th Street. As the B/D zoomed through 96th the old man got up, walked over to my seat where I was thinking, “Oh crap, good thing I was running early because this is mucho unfortunate,” and started to scream at me about subway direction etiquette.
In case you are wondering, subway direction etiquette involves not lying to people whose days you are clearly trying to sabotage. Clearly. Nevermind that it was an honest mistake, nevermind that he had chosen to ask an unapproachable person for information, nevermind that the MTA is notoriously useless on the weekends and unintelligible in general, and lastly: nevermind that I too had obviously missed my stop and would have to backtrack (along with half the passengers on the train based on what happened once we pulled into 125th Street and all crossed platforms together).
Might I add that I did in fact apologize, even though clearly one asks strangers for weekend subway advice at your risk.
A lady sitting across the way turns to him in the middle of his rant and says, “Oh yes, we’re going to 125th Street, you’ll have to go up the stairs and cross over to the other track.”
She had been sitting there through the entire slurry of announcements, had clearly noted that not only was I mistaken but that I was accidentally misleading this crazy old man and had not said a word, until the opportunity to be uppity about it came along.
I hate people.
On the upside, a C Train showed up almost immediately and I made it to my destination on time. On the downside, my Easter morning was no longer idyllic, but just an average angry New York weekend-subway-riding fiasco.
Then in my attempt to be a good person, I went to church and almost passed out due to the horrendous over-use of incense. Thanks.