Thursday, 19 July 2012

With the Olympics just around the corner I ask, can I really be bothered?


I am going to try to remain positive about the Olympic Games.

There’s no point in doing otherwise really, it is too late to do anything now anyway, it is all   less than two weeks away.

It’s too late to emigrate, apply for annual leave and go and hide in a cave or build a bunker in the garden and bury myself for the next eight weeks.

It is true the transport  system can barely cope as it is, and the capital will be plunged into a chaos from hell in just over 10 days.


But I am mot going to moan - yet.

We have all herd the security is apparently up the spout and no doubt we face weeks of hideous scenarios where people haven’t been checked, intruders have been allowed to infiltrate the compound, and the tubes grind to a standstill due to alerts.

There is also the plain truth that I, and I can’t be alone,  am not in the faintest bit interested in the whole thing, not one over-promoted bit of it.

Sorry, like it or lump it, I’m not. However, they are virtually here, and that is that.

So I am going to try to look at all that is good about London 2012 as the athletes limber up and officials start arriving in Stratford.

There are those funny little characters who keep popping up all over the place  - you know, the Olympic mascots Wenlock and Mandeville.

One has appeared just up the road from where I work near monument Tube Station, that brought a smile to my face.

There is also.... 

Oh sod it, I just can’t do it, I am already fed up to the back teeth of hearing about the Olympics. Olympic this, Olympics that, Olympics the bloody other.

The tubes are already up the spout, the roads have all been arsed around with, and let's not forget thousands of Home Office staff including immigration workers threatening to strike during this crucial period - nice one guys, one for all and all that.


God knows how much is has all cost to host this event, and for what? 


Two weeks of people throwing discs round and trying to beat each other in races.

It would be a different matter if it was being organised with some semblance of order, but we all know it is going to be another great British fiasco.

Is it too late to emigrate?

Because when I was shunted around Monument Station this morning by officials obviously testing out procedures, refusing to allow me to exit  the platform, I decided I still want to.

I am dreading the back-to-back yawn fest which is going to dominate the television, radio, newspapers and  internet from now until September.

And will people please stop asking me: “Oooh, have you got tickets?, No??? Ooh why not??”

“Because I could'nt give a stuff, that’s why not, now bog off and let me be miserable by myself.”

Roll on October.

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