Shopping Carts

Today, I got up early to do some grocery shopping.  I arrived in the nearly empty parking lot to find several shopping carts taking up parking spaces.  It was very irritating.  When did people become so lazy and inconsiderate?  How hard is it to walk the few extra steps to put the shopping cart in the shopping cart return rack?  There's a rack every ten parking spaces, so really, it doesn't even take but a few seconds to return the shopping cart to a rack.  And by returning it, I mean push it into the rack, not just leave it hanging out by the rack, where the cart could roll away and hit a car or even block parking.

When did it become okay to just leave the shopping carts all over the place instead of returning it to the racks?  When did people become lazy, inconsiderate idiots? 

After I was done shopping and had put away the groceries in my trunk, I pushed my cart and rounded up another two left in the adjacent parking spaces towards the nearest return rack.  I spent less than a minute straightening out the mess of shopping carts scattered at the return rack.  Seriously, it is not that hard to return a shopping cart to the return rack.  What is hard for me to understand though is how lazy and rude people have become.

On the way back home, I stopped by another store to return an item.  I found myself waiting behind a man riding one of those motorized shopping carts.  It was a little annoying to me how he kept backing up and then go forward and back up again, trying to make some sort of adjustment.  Adjustment for what?  I don't know.  There were no obstacles to go around, just a straight shot to the customer service rep and wide open spaces to roll around.  The only item in his cart was a pink bottle of Pepto Bismol.

I got the feeling that he was just killing time, playing around with the motorized shopping cart until it was his turn to see the service rep.  And wouldn't you know it?  As soon as it was his turn, he couldn't figure out how to parallel park along the customer service desk, so he just stood up and did his transaction standing for several minutes.  And when he was done, he sat down in the motorized cart and wheeled off.

When I completed my return and exited the store, I saw the man who rode the motorized cart driving away in a car that was parked next to mine.  Imagine my annoyance when I found the damned motorized cart left right by my driver's door!  That lazy bastard had driven the motorized cart out of the store and then just rudely left it blocking my car door!  What's even worse, the damned battery was drained and I couldn't move the thing out of my way.  I had to squeeze through a foot and half opening to get inside my car, all while cursing that lazy bastard who left that damned cart in my way! 

In my rage, I invoked all the vengeful gods I could think of--short of the ones that required chicken sacrifices--to place a curse upon this bastard!  I hope he gets food poisoning, and may the only bowl he spends time with this Sunday be the porcelain kind!

A few minutes later, on the way home, I came upon the street construction that had blocked off one of the lanes, reducing the flow of traffic to one lane going under the overpass, and the one lane for access on the highway only.  As the traffic slowed down to a crawl, I saw a car ahead of mine on the right side, the highway access side, blinking a signal, trying to squeeze into my lane to go under the overpass.  And wouldn't you know it?  It was the lazy bastard from the store!

Oh sweet fortune!  The gods had answered my prayers!  But I calmed myself down and reasoned that I was a better person, not a vengeful one, and I considered his predicament.  It sucks trying to cross into another lane, especially when everyone is in a rush but traffic is crawling, and cars are lined up with just a few inches separating them.  Most drivers will NOT let you cut in, because everyone is so focused on getting out the construction site as fast as possible--and most people become jerks on the roads, especially with construction detours--it comes from a mixture of anger and survival instinct. 

I thought to myself, really, I am the kind of person that would let someone cut in front of me, because I would want the same courtesy if I, too, suddenly found myself needing to cross over into the other lane at a construction site slowdown.  And with the traffic light now red, I found my car behind a pick up truck that was right next to the bastard's blinking car.  I could see his pleading eyes in the car window, looking at me pitifully, hoping that I would let him cut in front of me.  I figured, if the light turned green, I could pause my car long enough to let the inconsiderate bastard cut in front of me and be on his merry way.  That would be the courteous thing to do.

But you know what, I didn't feel so courteous.  Oh no.  Not now, not then.  The gods had given me a gift!  And when that light turned green, I kept the space tight between me and the pick up truck and slowed the car all the way up to the overpass, forcing that bastard on the right to take the highway access instead of crossing over.  The look of panic and disbelief on his face, his mouth dropping wide open, made me break out into a big laugh!  The next exit was a mile down the highway.  He would have to make the turnaround then, adding a whole 2 miles to his drive!  In your face, you lazy, inconsiderate bastard!  It's not so nice when people are selfish, isn't it, you bastard!?!  What goes around comes around.  And if you're a rude, inconsiderate bastard to people, don't be surprised when people don't give a damn about you!

Sexy Elephants

While I was recuperating from the cold last week, I decided to flip through some cookbooks to find a new way to make chicken soup.  I figured that chicken soup would be a great addition to my cold fighting arsenal, which included a regimen of cold medicine, some cough drops, and lots of fluids. 

Imagine my surprise when I found this little gem at the end of a cookbook:


That's right.  Elephant Stew! 

Surely this recipe is a joke!  You can't have stew without onions and some root vegetables like carrots and potatoes! 

I figured, if a little chicken soup can make me heal from the cold, imagine how much faster I'll heal with a large elephant stew!  Of course, the recipe doesn't specify whether I'll need an African or Asian elephant.  I'm assuming with the Asian variety, I'll just be hungry for more in an hour. 

Not that I could find any elephants at the local supermarket.  Live lobsters?  Yes.  Hog's head?  Yes.  Kimchi?  Yes.  Elephant?  No.  Not even the local butcher shops carried any elephant.  The only other place where I'm pretty sure they have elephants is the zoo.  And the closest one is about 2 and half hours up in San Antonio.  I wonder if they sell them by the pound?  I don't have a fridge big enough to store an entire elephant.  I may have to call the Houston Zoo just to compare prices.  I can't help but ponder, do the baby elephants taste soft and tender like veal?

And what kind of side dishes does one have with elephant stew?  I suppose a roasted rhinoceros and a garden salad would go great with the African variety.  As for the Asian elephant, I'd definitely go with some rice and panda pot pie.  But seeing as I've recovered from the cold now, I won't be making any long drives to acquire an elephant to make a stew. 

And since I have recovered from the cold, I had no excuse to stay home, and I found myself being dragged to the mall to go shopping with a friend.  I admit, I am not a mall person.  Though, when I was younger, I was thrilled to go to the mall.

Back home where I grew up in a rural town on the remote coast, we didn't have a mall--we still don't have one to this day.  Not that it's necessarily a bad thing.  But I do remember the excitement of the first time I went to a mall--and that was in San Francisco the summer I was visiting my cousins.  I was a small town teen in the big city, and I had a blast hanging out with my cousins, making new friends, and learning all about life in the big city!

For a decade or so after, I loved going to the mall to hang out with  friends--watch a movie, eat at the food court, do some browsing and shopping.  And sometimes, just people watching and cruising from one end of the mall to the other.  All those people, many different faces, the lights, the sounds, the colors were somehow enough to make going to the mall a pleasant experience that begged to be repeated every weekend.  It seemed like that's how we'd spent our days off--going to the mall in the daytime, and going clubbing at night.

But somewhere along the line, I lost the excitement of going to the mall.  Somehow, the people turned into a faceless crowd, the sounds became noise, and the place just felt too much and too little at the same time.  Gone were the lively colors and sparkle that once seemed so vibrant along the paths that led from one end of the mall to the other.  Now all seemed grimy, dirty, and somehow, crowded and empty at the same time.  Somewhere, somehow, I just lost the excitement of going to the mall every weekend.  What was once an anticipated activity is now more of a chore, something done out of necessity, not for fun.

I suppose it could be because I've grown up--I'd never confess to growing old.  Maybe it's because what was once new and exciting has become old and predictable.  Have I become jaded?  Or maybe I've changed and no longer need the mall to enjoy my days off.  Or it could also be that I've found much better deals at other stores and online.  But whatever the reasons, I've found myself shopping less and less at the mall, going only during the holidays for a few times a year.  And I'm fine with that.

So it was with a weary, resigned sigh that I found myself being dragged by my friend from store to store in her search for the perfect dress.  The joy of laughing with my friend and the promise of lunch at the food court were the only things that made the experience go from tolerable to enjoyable. 

Somehow, we found ourselves in one of those youth obsessed stores, where the expensive, shiny clothes were for anorexic, skinny people; the young staff was clueless and too busy looking bored to help anyone, practicing their mannequin poses, trying too hard to look cool and nonchalant; and the music was just a tad too loud, making the place seem more like a club than a hip clothing store.

Ordinarily, I avoid places like this.  But it just so happened that right after we walked in and started browsing, the dance music started and it was a song that I liked.  It was a Calvin Harris song featuring Florence Welch, called Sweet Nothing.  I couldn't resist bopping to the song, and pretty soon my friend and I started singing along to the song.  We were having a good time, grooving and singing right up until the chorus, when my friend suddenly stopped singing and dancing and gave me a puzzled look on her face.
 
She asked me to repeat the lines that I had just sung.  And I complied, "Sweet elephant, sweet elephant, you're giving me sexy elephants."

To which she incredulously replied, "She is not singing about elephants!"

And I argued, "I'm pretty sure she's singing about sexy elephants."

And back and forth we debated until the song was almost over and my friend countered, "Why the hell would she sing about sexy elephants?"

"Why not?", I asked her.

"Because it doesn't make any sense," she replied, "The song is called Sweet Nothing, and she's not singing:  you're giving me sexy elephants!"

And I answered, "I'm pretty sure that she's singing about a sexy elephant.  And given a choice between getting sweet nothing or a sexy elephant, I'll take a sexy elephant any day!"

Assassination

I've spent the last few days recovering from an assassination attempt.  It started last weekend when I was enjoying a get together with some friends.  Some were married, a few of us single, we spent the evening discussing everything from politics to pop culture and teased each other on the latest misadventures in our lives.  Gorging on decadent food, imbued by intoxicating drinks, lost in the revelry of mischievous conversation, I let my guard down.  And that's when the assassin struck!

One of my married friends asked me to hold their 3 month old baby while they went to look for their two toddler sons.  Tiny, chubby, cute little bundle of joy and warmth.  His little face was still ruddy from being fussy and crying earlier.  His parents commented that they were just getting over the cold and the baby was doing much better.  And in my arms, he calmed down and laughed as I played peek a boo and made funny faces and noises to get him to laugh and smile, the crowd chuckling along at my efforts, enjoying the delighful sounds of the baby laughing.

And when I put my face up to his, that's when the tiny assassin struck!  He sneezed at me!  A tiny Achoo!  Awww, went the crowd and I, taken in by the cuteness of the act and enjoying the moment.  I blame the alcohol.  Had I been sober, I would've realized the danger that I had been exposed to and perhaps I would've avoided the situation in the first place.

It wasn't until the next evening when I realized that I was the victim of an assassination attempt.  It started with a runny nose; then congestion; then my nose became confused as to whether it was runny or congested.  Sometimes, one nostril would run while the other was clogged up; and then the nostrils would alternate which one was runny and which was clogged up, depending on the position I turned my head, in my feeble attempts to breathe.  The coughing the next morning was the damning evidence that proved beyond a reasonable doubt what I had feared:  I had gotten a cold!

For two years I had managed to survive without catching a cold.  And here I am, starting the new year, struck down by the maddening disease!  And there was only one person who exposed me to this vile illness.  That baby!  That tiny assassin!  With one little sneeze, he has brought me to my deathbed.  Instead of out and about enjoying my days off from work, I am locked up in my home, languishing in exile, longing for the days when I could talk without hacking up a lung or two.  I have coughed so much that my throat is sore and one of my ears feels clogged up. 

Going to the store to buy remedies was a harsh reminder of my affliction.  I have been reduced to using the self-checkout aisle, my face covered by my hoodie, keeping my distance from other human beings, like a leper forced into quarantine to avoid spreading the disease to others.  Bagging my own groceries--the horror!  the horror!

But, what does not kill you makes you stronger.  And I am not dead yet!  The only thing that has comforted me in my suffering is the thought of revenge when I fully recover.  No, I do not blame the baby.  He's a baby; he doesn't know how to wash his tiny hands or cover his mouth when he sneezes.  He doesn't know how to keep his distance from the filthy, germ laden public.  Instead, I blame the parents for transporting and deploying that tiny, portable incubator of germ warfare, unleashing him on an unsuspecting public! 

Clearly, those parents had attempted to murder my social life, condemning me to spend several days in celibacy and solitary confinement, cut off from adult conversations and interactions, deprived of alcohol and the joy of staying out late with other people--much in the same way having children changes a couple's lifestyle.

I cannot wait to recover.  And the next time I encounter my married friends and their kids, I'm going to feed their kids so much candy and sweets that they'll be too wired up to go to bed and keep their parents from getting any sleep or having any marital relations!  Vengeance!  Vengeance will be mine!  I can't wait for the tiny assassin to start teething and keep mommy and daddy from ever sleeping again!

Spirits of the Season

Today I met some friends for lunch at a local bar and grill.  While we waited for our orders, we sipped our drinks and caught each other up on what we had been doing since the holiday season started.  I laughed while some regaled tales of surviving family gatherings and drama at the dinner table.  Others entertained us with stories of their shopping frenzies and holiday hijinks.

When it was my turn tell them what I had done for Xmas, my friends expressed surprise that I actually went to church Xmas Eve.  A few marveled at how I wasn't vaporized upon entering holy ground--the bastards.  True, I haven't gone to church regularly since the last millennium.  But I do make an effort to attend a religious service at least four times a year--New Year's Eve, Good Friday, Easter, and Xmas Eve.

This year, I went out of town to join a friend for Christmas.  We attended a Catholic midnight mass.   I quite enjoy the Catholic rituals--so pretty and ornate; and I love the smell of the burning incense--cedar, basically like burning pencils, a sweet, pleasant scent.

It still surprises me to see girls serving as altar boys (altar girls? altar persons?).  I'm so used to it being a boy's job.  Well, things change--but not fast enough for my liking sometimes.  I do confess that I wasn't really paying attention to the sermon, because there are things that the church stands for that I disagree with.  No church should should dictate how you relate to your god--that's a personal matter between you and your god.  But like I said, that's just my issue, and it shouldn't take away from the beautiful pageantry and pomp of the religious ceremony.  But as much as I enjoy sharing in the experience, I always forget just how physically active Catholic services are--stand, sit, chant, kneel before God!, line up for the Eucharist, stand, sit, and kneel some more.  It sure does make the service pass by real quick with all that movement.

My favorite part of the midnight mass was the Christmas caroling performed by the choir.  Granted, they weren't the Mormon Tabernacle Choir who wore uniforms and had well rehearsed performances.  Come to think of it, I don't think these choir members rehearsed more than once, as evidenced by their somewhat unique and not quite harmonious singing.  But I do enjoy the joyous spirit they displayed as they sang for us and invited us to join them.  Listening to them sing kind of reminded me of my old church and the Christmas pageant and the stuff we did to put on a show on Christmas night (not to mention I also remember hating the hours I spent toiling in rehearsals for a month before the Xmas show).

My enjoyment of the choir caroling was somewhat marred by the piano player, who once gave us the wrong hymn page number, sang too hard, and quite often ad libbed her own words loudly on the microphone, confusing the rest of us following the hymn and drowning out the choir at times.  I couldn't help but wonder if she had helped herself to some sacramental wine before giving us this slightly jarring performance.  This is church, for god's sake, not a reject audition at American Idol!  Save the cabaret act for the karaoke bar, sister!

I was thinking of filing a complaint with the priest to have this piano playing volunteer fired for ruining my church going experience.  Dammit, I only go to church but four times a year, and I expect a great performance for those very rare times I do make the effort to show up to church!

For a few seconds, while I was sitting in the church pews with my ears assaulted by the guerrilla attack that was this woman's singing, I actually fantasized about converting to Islam, just so I could issue a fatwa and declare a jihad to ban this woman from ever performing in public again!  Her appearances would be restricted to those specific times when we need her shrilling skills to ululate the declaration of war upon the infidels and to signal our victory over the enemy! Alalalalalalalalalalalala!

But that would be wrong.  And it is not the spirit of the holidays. It is the season for giving.  And I forgive this woman for almost ruining my Xmas experience. 

Instead, I shall focus my energy into welcoming the new year and celebrating the event amongst friends.  Ordinarily, my New Year's Eve has always been about going out with friends, dancing, getting drunk, counting down the clock and watching fireworks and having a good time with friends (and strangers) til the sun comes up.  This year, however, we will be spending it indoors, watching the season three marathon of AMC's The Walking Dead.  The idea is to take a shot every time a zombie gets killed in a really cool and exciting fashion.  Which means we'll most likely be hammered before the marathon reaches the halfway point.  I just hope we're sober enough to countdown at midnight.  I'm pretty sure we'll be walking and sounding like zombies when we wake up tomorrow.

I have always held New Year's Eve to be one of my favorite holidays of the year.  It is the celebration of new beginnings.  Yes,  I enjoy the partying, the drinking, and the dancing and good times.  But more importantly, it is a celebration among friends, to come together and revel in each other's company and to remember our friends who are not longer with us in body but stay with us in spirit and in our hearts.  We raise a glass to them and celebrate them for the impact they've had on our lives, and we embrace the fullness of life and savor the joy of living and having time to enjoy the company of good friends and loved ones. 

Life is short.  And nothing like a zombie apocalypse marathon to remind us of how precious and fragile life is.  Time keeps moving on, as every New Year's Eve reminds us.  Hold close the ones you love; revel in the company of your friends; and live life to the fullest.  Each day is a chance to do the things that make you happy, to go after your dreams and make them happen, to seize the day and do something new, something fun, something exciting.

This New Year's Eve, I shall raise a glass of spirits to all you good friends and thank you for all your support and well wishes.  Cheers and thank you for everything.  Your presence and your words have given me so much joy and laughter and made life just a bit more wonderful.  I would be honored to have you by my side, fighting for survival against the hordes in the zombie apocalypse.  And here's to wishing you all a Fantastic New Year, full of good company, good fortune, and good times!

Cheers!

Holiday Horde

Well, there might not have been a Mayan Apocalypse, but it sure felt like the end of the world at the stores and on the roads near the shopping malls.  Particularly on Christmas Eve, when so many people rushed to buy gifts at the last minute, swarming the aisles and grabbing whatever they could before the next person was able to get it.  Good for the stores; entertaining for me.

Give us scented bath gift baskets!

 People watching--it's a fascinating pastime for me.

And today, a whole other mass invasion of shoppers flooded the stores for exchanges and returns and to spend those gift cards.

The customer service line begins here.

Bless those hardworking customer service reps, trying to keep sane amongst the madness and onslaught of pissed off, aggressive, and rude customers.

No receipt means No refunds, No exchanges!

Ordinarily, I'm not a big shopping person.  But I couldn't resist going to see the stores this year, doing my part to keep the economy going.  Capitalism--it's in my American blood.  And I enjoy the thrill of finding great merchandise at steep discount post holiday prices.  Granted, not all the stuff I find are such high ticket, valuable items.  But dammit, why wouldn't I want to buy gaudy, sparkling Xmas ornaments at 50% off?  Better yet, they'll be 90% off the day after New Year.  I can't resist a good bargain sometimes.  Besides, I'm all ready starting to stock up on next year's Xmas gifts.  And also, I really do get a kick out of grabbing the last items on sale before someone else snatches them.

Earlier this year, during the day after New Year's Day sale, I was able to locate a Charlie Brown Xmas tree at a store.  I spotted it first when some old lady in a motorized shopping cart saw where I was heading, and she cut me off and tried to run me over to race down the aisle to grab the Charlie Brown Xmas tree!  The nerve!  Unfortunately for her, there was a display table blocking her oversized motorized shopping cart, allowing me to slip past her and grab the last Charlie Brown Xmas tree!  Ha! I win!  In your face, loser!

Competitiveness; it's also in my blood. 

Here's to hoping you find some fun (and good bargains) for the rest of the holiday season.

Happy Mayan Apocalypse Holiday Season

Well, my friends, it's the Mayan Apocalypse today.  And before the world ends, I'd like to take this time to thank each and everyone of you wonderful, funny, intelligent, and kind, beautiful people for your friendship, and support, and well wishes.  In case the world ends, I'd like to wish each and everyone of you a wonderful holiday season, and I wish you all happiness, harmony, and peace for the coming year (or for however long we have left til the world ends).

Now, I know my friends over in New Zealand and Australia have all ready reported that it's December 22, 2012 for them, and the world has not ended.  But I've goggled what time it is in the Yucatan where the Mayans lived and found out that they share the same time zone as my part of the world, Central Standard Time Zone, or it's 9pm right now.  So, in three hours, the world might end.  And I plan to spend what might possibly be my last few hours on earth with some friends at an End of the World party, counting down the hours til the end. 

It's been over a decade since I attended an End of the World party, especially since that fascinating news journal, World Weekly went out of print.  There was a time when we could all count on the World Weekly to predict when the world would end, and we'd plan our End of the World parties accordingly.  Alas there has been quite a lack of doomsday prophecy/apocalypse dates and no coverage of Bat Boy since that fine news journal ceased publication.

And just in case it's an alien invasion or a zombie apocalypse, I've got my bug out bag (loaded with survival gear) and some water and food in my car, and my sports tomahawk, ready to take on the hordes!  I ain't going down without a fight!  No one is eating my brains for dinner!

If the world is going to end, I am going to celebrate it with the people I love and have fun til it's all over.  And I want to take this time to say to all you amazing friends, thank you for everything!  And I'll be sure to toast you all and celebrate our friendship while counting down the Mayan Apocalypse.  I'm not sure if it's going to be angry Mayan gods on a rampage, or a devastating climate shift, or some extinction level cosmic event that destroys our world.  But whatever happens, it has been my honor and joy to have met each and everyone of you on the blogosphere.

And just in case we survive the Mayan Apocalypse, I want to wish you all every Wonderful and Happy Holiday Season, and May the New Year bring you all good health, good fortune, and good times!  Cheers!

Olympic day 16: Spectacular Closing Ceremonies

12 Aug 2012 Sunday

Day 16 of the London Olympics was the last day of competition, and it was also the finale of 16 wonderful, amazing days of competition.


And on this last day of competition, the athletes closed the last events in style and top form.

No surprise that the USA men's basketball team won gold. It kind of isn't a fair contest when the top players of the sport belong to one country. What was surprising was just how close the game was, given how Spain was on the US team's heels every step of the way. Spain gets silver and Russia takes bronze.

No surprise on the women's side, as the USA women's team take gold, remaining champions since Barcelona 1992. France takes silver; Australia, bronze.

But a big surprise over at men's volleyball, where Russia pulls of an incredible comeback, from a losing 2 sets in the beginning to winning 3 out 2 to claim an amazing victory over heavily favored, defending Beijing champions Brazil. Once again, Brazil was so cocky, thinking they were going to win, in the third set at 22-19, they brought in their retiring, injured captain off the bench to play what they thought would be the winning set. How arrogant! But the Russians dig deep, and fight back to stay alive in the third set, and then go on to win the next two sets, stunning Brazil and sending fans into a frenzy at the most amazing comeback! Brazil was unable to stop the Russian momentum and have to settle for silver and Italy, bronze. What an spectacular win for Russia.

And the wins keep coming for Russia, as the they take gold for the fourth Olympics in a row, since Sydney 2000, in Team Rhythmic Gymnastics. World champions Italy was my favorite performance--who doesn't love a team who dances to theme song from the Lone Ranger (aka the William Tell Overture)? But they lost the chances to gold, by dropping their ribbon baton, opening the way for Belarus to take silver, leaving Italy the bronze.

American Jacob Varner took gold in the men's 96kg freestyle final, leaving Ukraine's Valerii Andriitsev the silver. It is the second gold in wrestling America has won at these games. Georgia's Georgi Gogshelidze and Khetag Gazyumov of Azerbaijan took the bronze medals.

In the Men's 66kg freestyle wrestling, Japan's Tatsuhiro Yonemitsu won Japan's first men's wrestling gold since Seoul 1988. He beat out India's Sushil Kumar, left with silver. Cuban Livan Lopez and Kazakhstan's Akzhurek Tanatarov won the bronze medals.

A big upset for Kenya as Uganda's Stephen Kiprotich won the Olympic men's marathon, beating Kenya's Abel Kirui, silver, and Wilson Kipsang, bronze. It is Uganda's first and only medal at these games, and what a way to win it, on the last day of the games, beating out heavily favored Kenya. It is also Uganda's first gold medal since Munich 1976.

Over in men's flyweight (52kg) boxing, 18 year old Robeisy Carrazana Ramirez of Cuba takes gold, leaving Mongolia's Tugstsogt Nyambayar the silver. Michael Conlan of Ireland and Misha Aloian of Russia each took bronze.

Vasyl Lomachenko defeats Han Soon-chul in the lightweight final, taking gold. It is the second Olympic gold for Lomachenko, who is the Beijing 2008 champion in the featherweight division. South Korea's Soonchul Han takes silver. Cuba's Yasniel Toledo Lopez and Lithuania's Evaldas Petrauskas each take bronze.

And what an amazing last day for host nation Great Britain, who win 3 more medals to leap past Russia to claim 3rd in overall medal standings, making this the greatest Olympics ever for Great Britain. Great Britain's Anthony Joshua won gold in the super-heavy weight division, leaving Italy's Roberto Cammarelle-world champion and defending Beijing champion-the silver; Azerbaijan's Magomedrasul Medzhidov and Kazakhstan's Ivan Dychko take bronzes. Great Britain's Fred Evans settles for silver in the welterwight division, after Serik Sapiyev of Kazakhstan won gold; the bronzes went to Russia's Andrey Zamkovoy and Ukraine's Taras Shelestyuk. The final medal that elevated Great Britain in medal standings belongs to the silver won by Samantha Murray in the modern pentathlon; the gold went to Lithuania's Laura Asadauskaite, the bronze, Brazilian Yane Marques.

Reconition must be given to the drug testing and regulating officials in the London Olympics. All ready, several athletes have been disqualified for cheating, such as Belarusian women's shot put gold medallist Nadzeya Ostapchuk who has been stripped of her title after failing a doping test; which means New Zealand's Valerie Adams, defending Beijing champion, gets gold; Evgeniia Kolodko of Russia, silver; and Lijiao Gong of China steps up to the podium for bronze. Let's also not forget those cheating badminton players for those Asian countries who literally played bad matches as a way to get into easier draws to get into medal contention. I'm so glad they got kicked out of the game, and some have been dropped from the league all together. It is an insult and an embarrassment to come here to the world stage of the Olympics and try to cheat your way to win. It says a lot about your character, that you are a loser and a cheater, and you are a great embarrassment and disgrace to your country and to your sport. So a big congratulations and job well done to the officials for keeping the games clean and fair.

And it's all over. What an incredible, amazing sixteen days of competition has it been for these London Olympics.































What a fantastic closing ceremony! It was an incredible exhibition of British music, fashion, culture, and achievement. I quite enjoyed seeing Annie Lennox, George Michael, and so many other icons and stars of British music.

















Shooting a man out of a canon, rollerskating nuns, laughs, lights, and loads of fun, it was a fun, frivolous, and fabulous way to end two weeks of glory. Thank you, London for doing an outstanding job, hosting the Olympic games and doing an astounding job of making it all happen. Thank you Great Britain, for welcoming us into your home. We have thoroughly enjoyed our visit and we've been thrilled with all we've seen. And thank you volunteers and soldiers, for keeping us safe, for creating an extraordinary extravaganza, for making the London Olympics one of the best Olympics ever!


The torch has been passed to Rio for 2016. But it's not over for London yet. In two weeks, we will witness some of the greatest athletes ever compete on the world stage. The Paralympics is coming home to London! And we will be cheering on these heroic, astonishing athletes as they begin their quest for gold and glory. And I can't think of a better stage to perform their feats of greatness than in London. Truly, Great Britain is a great nation of great people. Thank you for having us. You've done an amazing job!