DON'T call me shrimpy

Be sure to tune in for the next episode of TV's hottest game show.....

"Who's taller. Me or Cris Collinsworth?"   

Hey he's getting older.  He's shrinking. Perhaps I'm still getting taller. Stay tuned.

At least I'm still ahead of Bob Costas and Al Michaels.

Rumor mill

I cannot confirm this yet but I hear Edward Snowden has been conscripted onto the Russian luge team. Details to follow.

My dark past

I was just reading my previous posts. Oh man, what a whining female dog I sound like. I promise in the future the sunnier side will prevail.
I think it has to do with my aversion to sports. Born at the moment when my father told me wrestling was fake. So I hit him with a tire iron.

I have never used performance-enhancing drugs.

This was a gift given to me when I departed for to Torino and my first Olympics. I have worn it to each  assignment since.  So I guess if I'm going to suit up again I'll have to strap this one on. Hey Lance and A-Rod...this one's for you.

Back to the wall

Well the worst has happened. I just got an email from my agent that they finalized the details of my contract. Should I even bother to read this thing? And more important, should I put myself through this again?
I have to miss being at Howard Stern's birthday party.
And what if A-Rod needs me to testify on his behalf?
I think I'll spend the weekend in silent contemplation and prayer to the God of announcers, Don Pardo.  WWDPD?
People say "But you've done this so many times."  Yeah, and each time I reached a point of such exhaustion that I lacked the strength to even attempt suicide.
It is true that I have done this many times, but you know what happens at the end of "The Hurt Locker."

Smile!

You can count on me to Instagram my way into custody. Only you won't see the photos because they will have confiscated my iPad and phone.
http://www.theatlanticwire.com/entertainment/2013/11/reporters-sochi-olympics-will-be-banned-twitter-and-instagram/71461/

Random thought

What do you think the odds are of Pussy Riot appearing in the Opening Ceremonies?

Okay, how about Elton John?

11-12-13

Still have no final contract to sign so maybe I can still weasel out of this.

About the only positive as I consider the assignment is that I would be spared operating our snow blower for a month.

And the customary supply of free NBC clothes. And the virtually unlimited supply of unhealthy greasy American food at steam tables.

By the way, after today there will only be one more sequenced date this century. Next year's 12-13-14.  Start planning something big now.

By the way…

Don't you think Boris Yeltsin is the coolest guy?
But Vladimir Putin is the Mack daddy.

Here we go again, again, again, again.

My dear friends,
I am on the cusp of making a huge mistake. Signing on for my my fifth tour of duty to another prison camp assignment to serve as studio announcer for NBC Olympics.  Although I  get to travel on a Delta flat bed for the  11 hour charter flight to our assignment in Sochi, lubricated with gourmet food, they've already warned us about inviting our family members to visit these Olympics. Seems our Olympic Village will be 20 miles from the town of Sochi which appears to contain nothing. We have been warned that there are no Western-style medical clinics anywhere near this place. We have also been officially cautioned that if medical evacuation is necessary you're likely to die. Which has prompted our employer to have us fill out various medical forms that indicate we don't appear to be near death. This sounds like a ton of fun.
If I take this assignment my bitching will know no bounds. Also be certain that photographic evidence will be submitted daily. The mere flight times presented in our travel documents strike terror into my heart.
Plus getting off work at 8 AM will be a great start to our day. Considering we are working 12 hours every day without a day off for a month.
The air was much filthier in China but the hours were better... And so was the emergency medical care.
Please, someone reason with me and talk me out of this.
Love,

Mr.Announcer