say it with me, girls: are you kidding yourself?
sorry, everyone. i have to say it: floor ex is just fliggin' weird.
as a dancer, the olympic floor ex competition is just jaw-droppingly freakish. Here are people who are the epitome of control and balance, who can execute so many unbelievable feats, and... well, they just do so much that's so dad-gum ugly.
the jutting thorax and hands that seem to hold invisible tea sandwiches permeate most of the women's [uh, girl's] gymnastic competition. in floor ex, we're treated to a wider variety of delightful technical displays, such as:
- turns with no spot! wtf!? of course they're gonna fall down, bob.
- bizarre music with no bearing on the actual choreography: heck, has the choreographer even heard the music? the movement doesn't even seem to have any noticeable relation to the weird-ass music at all. and to think these women pay top dollar for that drek -- i gotta raise my freelance choreo prices.
- just effed-up dancing: why, lord, why?! yesterday, i saw someone assume the crab position, vigorously crab-walk backwards on 3 & 4, looking to each side with each step. lemme tell ya, it made an impact on me. oh, i see. you spot the crabwalk in gymnastics, not the turns. i get it now. silly me.
4 comments:
Amen. Sing it, sister.
ah! it's in carly patterson's floor ex! the crab! i saw it again! i was *not* hallucinating! anyone else see it? it's like bigfoot already.
ah! it's in carly patterson's floor ex! the crab! i saw it again! i was *not* hallucinating! anyone else see it? it's like bigfoot already.
ah! it's in carly patterson's floor ex! the crab! i saw it again! i was *not* hallucinating! anyone else see it? it's like bigfoot already.
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