So, I love Deadspin like crack cocaine. I read it every day, and every day they point me to something that makes my life just a little bit happier. Like, say, this photo of Jason Giambi that made me laugh for thirty minutes straight (quote from my friend Sarah: "Why does he look like Elvis?"). Today, Deadspin went so far as to make my Olympics, because today I got introduced to Johnny Weir. Johnny is, like, the best male figure skater in the country, which explains why I'd never heard of him. And yes, the Deadspinners quickly got a little jock locker room homophobic about our guy, but immediately I was sold. Sold! I will be watching Olympic figure skating this year. You're welcome, Torino.
Here's the thing: I don't watch figure skating. Never have. Well, okay, like everyone I tuned in during the Lillehammer games to see if Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding would have a huge throw-down at center ice, but then the one broke a lace and cried and the other turned out to be a bitch anyway, and Oksana Baiul wound up schooling them both. But otherwise, no. And I'll pretty much watch anything if it's the Olympics. That's the greatest thing about the games, right? How for two weeks we can be absolutely glued to sporting events we could give two shits about the rest of the year. Gymnastics, swimming, the Super Giant Slalom (dude, the Super Giant Slalom! I can't fucking wait!), the one where they have to shoot at a target while wearing showshoes as their spittle freezes on their faces. All gold. But figure skating never grabbed me. That's not a value judgment. That's just the way it is with me.
But now, I've got Johnny Weir. For one thing, he just makes me want to say "Pretty lady. Pretty, pretty lady," all the time. He looks like how Rufus Wainwright might've looked ten years ago and without the lifetime of cigarettes. Second of all, he's prone to saying shit like how a competitor's skating was "a vodka-shot, let’s-snort-coke kind of thing." Fuck Bode Miller, that's my favorite quote by an Olympian. He's the bitchy figure skating friend you never knew was essential to your life. He's a Kelly Clarkson fan, he's a Velvet Goldmine fan (one look at his costumes and ... yeah, he totally is), Project Runway, the whole nine. Fourth, he's apparently pretty kick-ass at what he does. Which helps.
So, yeah, bring on the Torino games! Johnny Weir for gold!