Real Men/Women of Genius #104

[Hmmm…so now it seems we’re suddenly in “marathon season”? Well now, ain’t THAT a sweet source of sullen inspiration…]

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss!}

Today we salute you, Mr. Handheld Backwards-Riding Motorcycle Television Filmer of Big City Marathons.

{Yoooooooooou ride bettttt-ttttttter than Ca-lam-mitttt-ty Jane!}

You’re just the man, aren’t you, to capture ALL the up-close action of those front-running runners. You’re right *THERE* for all the slobber, drool, snot, hockers, upchuck, puke, hurl, and really bad runny makeup that just seems to jettison off these famous faces of those most likely to wish you dead.

{Weee watched Bob Kem-pain-en pro-jec-tile vom-it dur-ing the O-lym-pic Tri-aaaaaaaaaaals!}

You Are In Their Face! So congratulations, Mister Tailpipe Paparazzi, on getting THE pictures that will most imprint upon the ten million marathon wannadoers who just LOVE watching Uta Pippig having her period live on international television.

{EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!! That’s sooooooooooooo gross!!!}

Puh-leeeeease. Do your bosses–those otherwise whacktoasted local TV commentators-who-haven’t-got-a-clue–ever give you a raise for getting those close-ups of what ELSE is running down those legs? Could it be either natural or unnatural bodily fluids? Are we watching some sort of drug effluvial runoff here? If your biker buddy could drive any slower and you get your focus closer, might we also expect expectorations? Will the folks at home recognize which steroid is being spit by the first-place Kenyan?

{IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIt’s prob-babbbb-bleeeeeee just Ga-tor-ade!}

Blood doping? Maybe? Could you just adjust your camera better? And what we REALLY want to see are all those cavities inside the lead runner’s mouth. Could you maybe lean a little more hazardously to your left? That’s it! You da man!

{Weeeeeee’re think-ing may-beeeee heeee needs a tooth pulled?}

So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light after your ride, O Biker’s Bitch of the New York Chapter of California’s Hell’s Angels, and wipe off your camera lens, because after all is said and done, there truly are several billion TV gawkers worldwide who *are* vitally dependent upon YOUR–and nobody else’s–capturing of all the world’s best runners’ most vital signs.

{Mis-terrrrrrrrrr Hand-held Baaaaaaack-wards-Ri-ding Mo-tor-cy-cle Tel-e-vis-ion Film-er of Big Ci-ty Mar-a-thonnnnnnns!!}

Bud Light beer: we don’t care where they brew it; we just dig their commercials.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Check out this new outlet:
http://www.trailrunevents.com/ul/stories.asp.

Resource:
http://thefuntimesguide.com/2004/10/bud_light_real.php.

Yankee Folly of The Day:
We’re not sure, of course, but quite possibly the New Orleans Saints did better than the Washington President last night.