Seriously, if there’s anyone out there who thinks that the Limping Games is anything other than a cash grab for synthetic hormone-enhanced automata, I’d like to meet them — and mock them repeatedly with “You sad old man!” delivered in a scornful faux-Cockney accent.
Take the 400m race, for instance. If I stayed in exactly the same place, I’d be back where I started 43.18 seconds before the world record holder, and what’s more, I wouldn’t even be remotely out of breath. And we give medals to people who run round in circles? Jings!
The above image is a glyph from the Olympukes Light free font from fontshop. It speaks to my condition.