Like the fellow once said ...

Tea: Black Fruit.

Music: Bobby Darin, "Beyond the Sea".

Time: Night.

Well, the Beijing Olympics are over. There have been amazing achievements (Is Usain Bolt is a freak of nature, or what? Okay, so maybe the celebration was a little over the top.) and touching tributes like this one.

And there have been huge downers -- many of them courtesy of the hosts, from gymnasts in diapers to Cutegate to the fact that NOT ONE FREAKING PROTEST PERMIT WAS GRANTED.

I was talking to a friend tonight on the phone (land line -- the cell phone mic falling into the same category as a certain Spanish dictator), and the consensus was that this guy provided the lowest point of the Olympics.

We haven't seen the headlines, but we came up with several:

"TAE KWON DON'T"

"TAE KWON DONE"

"TAE KWON DOLT"

"TAE KWON DO YOU REALLY WANT TO HURT ME?"

And, the one that got the biggest giggles from both sides:

"TAE KWON D'OH!"

Thanks. We'll be here all week.

I Even Forgot a Title

Tea: Stomach Soother

Music: Oingo Boingo, "Dead Man's Party"

Time: Night.

My head is a-jumble with thoughts, few of them coherent. (Sometimes being And Boy has its drawbacks.)

I could rant about the Chinese and their Orwellympian schtick of changing the present by changing the past. (Oooh. I like that word. I'm going to keep it.) But nothing's going to change ... the IOC and the international gymnastics federation aren't likely to make the host country lose face.

I could go on about my inadvertent backpacking trek this afternoon. (Better not, though.) I shouldn't grouse, though. I got in a good walk, even if it was raining.

Or I could say something about ...

Darn.

I forgot.