The brides floating aimlessy around like amoebas in a laboratory petri dish reminded me of a groomless Reverend Moon mass wedding in Yankee Stadium.
At least Ricky Martin relieved the funereal last gasps of the program. His singing was okay for a guy that had to compete with a million bucks of fireworks going off in his face.
The beefy burlesque queens writhing behind him in leather straps and torn fishnets added a rather repulsive ending to the surreal spastic components of the evening's pastafazoo.
As far as Olympic ceremonies go, the Italians should stick to making spaghetti, Fiats and love.
La commedia e finita.
Leni
Hate to jump in at the end of this but I scanned the posts and didn't see anything about it.
At the end of the broadcast, when NBC was doing the photo montage, they showed a skier who had fallen and a little girl that ran out onto the course to hug her...anyone know the story there? Pretty darn tearjerking...
Ahem, and their mamas should continue to produce offspring who later become Supreme Court Justices and Mayors in this wonderful country.