OK, OK, so it's all about patriotism & it only comes once every 4 years (2 if you count both Summer & Winter) & it's a collection of the world's top athletes in all fields (except maybe Joggiling) & records are made & broken & it's all wonderful & fabulous....but oh. my. heck. The women's marathon?! Really? We need to watch a group of women run down the street for 2 & a half freaking hours?!
If you can run a Marathon you are, hands down, an amazing person. Please do not take this the wrong way. Watching a marathon on television is right up there on my list of things to do with say....watching Nascar (OK, so I've offended two groups of people now....sorry). I just do not get it.
I am so over the Olympics.
Unfortunately, my husband is not.
Today I was innocently watching Clue (Mrs. White: a lunatic! He didn't actually seem to like me very much; he had threatened to kill me in public. Miss Scarlet: Why would he wanna kill you in public?) when he sat down with his plate of pizza. "Clue? (sigh) For the next week & a half you should just know."
So, for your non-Olympic enjoyment, I present more quotes from Clue. Enjoy.
Mrs. Peacock: Uh, is there a little girl's room in the hall?
Yvette: Oui oui, Madame. [points]
Mrs. Peacock: No, I just wanna powder my nose.
Wadsworth: I suggest we take the cook's body into the study.
Colonel Mustard: Why?
Wadsworth: I'm the butler, I like to keep the kitchen tidy.
Wadsworth: Professor Plum, you were once a professor of psychiatry specializing in helping paranoid and homicidal lunatics suffering from delusions of grandeur.
Professor Plum: Yes, but now I work for the United Nations.
Wadsworth: So your work has not changed.
Colonel Mustard: How many husbands have you had?
Mrs. White: Mine or other women's?
Colonel Mustard: Yours.
Mrs. White: Five.
Colonel Mustard: Five?
Mrs. White: Yes, just the five. Husbands should be like Kleenex: soft strong and disposable. Colonel Mustard: You lure men to their deaths like a spider with flies.
Mrs. White: Flies are where men are most vulnerable.
Colonel Mustard: Right!
The singing Telegram girl: [Doorbell rings, the door is opened to reveal a singing Telegram girl] Da da da da da da! I, am, your singing telegram...!