I said it at the start and I’m sticking to my guns: THE OLYMPICS SUCK. Here are a few random observations and thoughts before I put out the torch by relieving my bladder.

• Everyone thought the games were over when Michael Phelps won his record-breaking eighth medal. Consider pushing such an event back in 2012.

• Phelp’s accomplishment is legendary, but doesn’t swimming afford athletes more medal opportunities than any other sport?

• Oppressive countries should not be allowed to host the Olympics.

• Why do 15-year-old gymnasts wear more makeup than entrants to a Jon Benet pageant?

• Fencing is stupid, especially when your body starts to blink as if you were playing Laser Tag.

• Watching boxing with headgear is a whole lot less interesting.

• Isn’t it amazing how the Olympics are able to reaffirm so many stereotypes?

• Beach volleyball players are nowhere near as hot when they take off their sunglasses.

• The next athlete to hit an official should receive a lifetime suspension AND have their entire country eliminated from the competition.

• I can’t believe Shawn Johnson is a little white girl.

• The opening and closing ceremonies are like Epcot Center on steroids.

Maybe I just feel out of shape and old. What observations did you make?

Over the weekend I found the time to catch Tropic Thunder. The movie, which has come under fire for copious use of the “R” word (retard), contains several items which have people up in arms.

Among the “offensive” content produced by Ben Stiller and Co.:

African Americans – Black face, check
Mentally Challenged – Check
Kabuki-wearing Asians – Check
Women – The ‘P’ word is dropped by Alpa Chino – Check

My point is this. The movie made me bust a gut. There are several parts that are laugh-out-loud funny. But here’s the rub. Particularly during the “Simple Jack” scenes, when I really wanted to laugh hard, I stopped myself. Maybe it was the older folks around me, the fact that I was sitting two rows behind the wheelchair section, or some deep-rooted fear that a mentally challenged ogre is going to beat the hell out of me. Whatever the case, I made an effort to control my laughter as to not “offend” anyone.

Whoa! Time for some soul searching Andrew G.R. Here’s the pep talk I’m now giving myself:

Andrew, first off, you paid $10.50 to sit there on a Saturday night to enjoy yourself. Worrying about other people’s sensitivities, and in the process taking away from your good time, is asinine.

Everyone who is sitting there has chosen to be there. If it’s a parent or an annoyed spouse, they did have the option to say ‘no.’ And let’s face it, it’s a freakin’ Ben Stiller movie. The trailer hardly tried to pass TT off as an epic war movie with Stiller looking to become the next Duvall. Even if you were ‘confused’ by the film’s promotion efforts, a three-second glance at B. Stiller’s body of work, you know damn well what you are getting yourself into.

I would never wish anything bad on anyone. I am the master of everything I say, do and think. A little laughter doesn’t hurt anybody. Escapism is essential for the soul and it’s important not to take yourself – or life – too seriously.

This isn’t the first movie to make fun of everything and everyone – and it won’t be the last. But it will be the last time I censor myself in a dark movie theater.

I’m not really sure why you want to read my words or why on earth you’d care to follow me on Twitter. But you do; so thank you! There’s something I’m sure most people don’t care about, and that’s where I am. Whether I’m physically located in front of my computer, on a plane to Burkina Faso, or eating mom’s killer meatloaf, 99.9% of the time, it doesn’t matter.

Proponents of geotagging will tell you how it’s neat because you can find out when a buddy is nearby and meet up for drinks. I might not be a social butterfly, but if someone I actually want to meet is in the area, I’ll know about it.

The functionality is not totally pointless. I see where it could be kinda cool to plot an image on a map a la Google Maps, but the phenomenon might be overblown.

Not to get all Big Brother is watching on you, but as G-tagging becomes more transparent (built into all new camera models, cell phones, and so on) it will become important for people to understand what is being tracked and where the data is reported.

Yahoo’s new geo-location platform Fire Eagle, that gives developers the ability to include positional data in their applications sans headache, is now open to the public. That means users will be able to syndicate their positional data to hundreds – if not thousands of partner services in the near future.

If I’m wrong down the road, I’ll admit it. Now it’s your turn. Tell us why you’re so hot on geotagging.

P.S. This blog post was written from 40° 46’ N, 73° 54’ W.

It started with the opening ceremony. The fireworks were cool, but the parade of nations left me flat. Short of commenting on the outfits as if we all worked for the back page of People magazine, it was Zzzz viewing. For the most part, that’s the way I fele about the competitive events too. I can sit through 14-inning baseball games, welterweight fights between unknowns and hours of wrestling – a sport that’s not even real. But when it comes to the Olympics, they get a gold medal for taking away my interest.

Far from ethnocentric, I’m not turned off by the U.N. flag-rallies. It has nothing to do with people speaking in foreign tongues. Honestly, I can’t exactly place my finger on why I’m disinterest. It could be…

THE ANNOUNCERS. There are a smattering of former athletes, but many of the voices covering the games are ‘generic journalists.’ People who like to constantly remind me that there’s tension between Russia and Georgia and that so-and-so once lived in a car (who hasn’t).

THE COVERAGE. Professional sports have a cadence, giving the game a measured predictability. You may not know what is coming next, but you usually can spot an opportune time for a bathroom break. With so many concurrent events, NBC has a difficult (if not no-win) challenge of keeping viewers abreast of the latest happenings. The result is the network weaving back and forth between events, taking away from the tension that makes sporting a beautiful thing.

THE ATHLETES. In all fairness, it’s difficult to care when you’re ‘meeting’ the players for the first time. This forces you to pick someone to root for by country, appearance, or by random – all weak excuses to care. Bottom line: it’s hard to invest in a stranger.

I’m also bored of hearing about Beijing. I get it; the air quality sucks, the stadiums were expensive to build, the people are great, bla bla bla.

I also don’t understand why every news program shipped their anchors away. Whether the headlines are being read from a prompter from Studio D in Newark or from the Cloud o’ Smog, I could care less. There’s no need for news to be repeated ‘on location.’

If you think the Olympic games are all guts, glory and glee – good for you. All I see are dollar signs. Color me jaded, but I can’t wait for the event to end. May the next four years take their time.

When they turned outdoor sporting venues into ‘no smoking’ zones, I was a bit miffed – and I’m not even a smoker.

When they designated large portions of stadiums as ‘alcohol free’ areas, I was a bit perplexed – and I’m not a drinker.

Now, the National Football League might have gone too far. Guess what you can no longer do… DROP AN F-BOMB. That’s right, cursing is now outlawed at the stadium. If a member of the ‘security’ staff overhears your potty mouth, you get a one-way ticket out of the game.

What’s next? No rooting for the away team? A ban on negative thoughts?

I’m all for a family-friendly environment, but an attempt to control speech and monitor words is more crooked than an offside kick.

Drunk a-holes who go out of their way to be rude and make other uncomfortable deserve to be tossed. But simply yelling, ‘You suck #12!’ is par for the course. It’s part of the price of admission.

As more and more corporate suites and luxury boxes are built into team’s business plans, the Average Joe fan continues to get the shaft. Perhaps it’s all part of a ploy to keep middle class ‘riff raff’ out?

Next up, they’ll replace hotdogs with celery sticks. And print the nutritional information about beer on the side of the cup.

The nice thing about blogging is that you can say whatever you want. So please pardon my French, but fuck you NFL.

In no particular order…

– New sports stadiums that, no matter how you slice it, are being paid for by taxpayers and fans. – Radio ads that rely on a song or jingle to drill their message into your head. Two current examples include J.G. Wentworth and Cars 4 Kids. – Spam headlines. What makes anyone think that an e-mail with the subject “Fergie Chips Tooth” OR “Kelsey Grammer Has Heart Attack” will lure me to hit the open button? – My barber. What’s so hard about straight lines? – Active, millionaire movie actors taking voice over jobs from voice professionals. Morgan Freeman might have a great voice, but other people need to eat too. – When my wife tells her friends, ‘Andrew says hi.’ No, I didn’t. Stop making me look like such a nice guy. – Social networks with seven registered users. – 70-year-old men telling me that blogging is becoming an essential business tool. – Blog widgets that promise to make you money. – The fact that in 2008, I still physically have to be somewhere to sign for a delivery. – People crawling out of the woodwork after years of silence. – Game bundles that sell me accessories and games that I don’t want or need. – Bloggers that complain without offering solutions. (Whoops! My bad!)

Thin skin? Then don’t even think about becoming a successful blogger.

I’m not sure if this is a true story or not, but somewhere along the way I picked it up and have remembered it ever since…

Baseball player Jeff Kent was once mired in a dreadful slump while on the New York Mets. Fans, who can be relentless when players don’t perform up to their standards, decided to share their displeasure with Kent. How? They got personal. After getting wind that Kent’s dog Gunnar has passed away they broke into a sing-songy chant. “Gun-nar…”

Ouch.

Kent might be a millionaire and part of a fraternity of several thousand professional baseball players, but he’s human. And not deaf.

Shortly after the cruel chant, Kent was traded away, vowing to never play for a New York team again.

It’s easy to be super-critical of public figures. After all, we expect great things from them since they make great money. The misconception that they are immune to criticism is foolish. They might be more used to it than us ‘regular folks,’ but that doesn’t mean the daggers don’t hurt.

And speaking of us, the same goes for blog writers and blog commenters. The more I blog, the more I realize that blog commenters are more likely to leave a comment if they disagree or take issue with something you write. That’s cool. But there’s no need to get personal.

Before you pull the trigger on that comment asking ‘who the heck I think I am’ – let me tell you. I’m a hard working, regular guy who likes to blog as a therapeutic outlet. I enjoy writing and need the few extra dollars (literally) that this hobby affords me. Slicing and dicing my writing style, pointing out typos or arguing with my angle on something just for the sake of arguing sucks. Comments make blogs great – just don’t get personal. Think before you post.

When I plop down my hard-earned cash to attend a concert, I do so in order to hear the glorious band and the soaring voice of the vocalist. I do not attend to hear YOU sing. That’s right, I’m talking to you, fellow concert attendees.

There’s an alarming trend that is taking place at venues around the globe: massive audience sing-a-longs that drown out the real thing.

There is a similar movement within the blogosphere. Your favorite blogger begins to drift off into the distance, as “guest” bloggers start to fill the space. Before you know it, you rarely hear from the person who was your entire reason for reading in the first place.

Building an ensemble cast is nice, but if your favorite character goes away, you might not be as inclined to read or watch. Imagine LOST without Jack. You would probably still watch, but if he was your favorite character, you might lose interest.

A blog is an even more personal experience. Writers build bonds with their audience, and should be very careful when phasing themselves out of the equation.

I’m not fooling myself, I realize every blogger is replaceable. But keep in mind that your visitors are there to hear you sing – not the audience. Before you pass the mic to another performer, make sure you’re not damaging your overall product.

Between local Wi-Fi hotspots and wireless broadband connections, we’re being conditioned to believe that the Web is accessible anytime, anywhere. Surely we can connect in more ways than ever before, but it is possible to hit a dead end.

The other night at my temporary residence, I was searching for a way to connect; to no avail.

While in some circles I’m the typical new-age computer geek with white ear buds, dark-framed glasses and collared shirt, in this instance, I was a helpless technophobe.

Here’s how I failed. And here’s why you’ll never catch me without a modem again.

CABLE CONNECTION. Requires equipment, a contract and a human being to step foot inside (not an option an my current location). STRIKE ONE.

DSL CONNECTION. Verizon had the line activated and the model shipped within 24 hours. Impressive. That was until I attempted to connect. After 90 minutes on the phone with India, it was determined that the line was no good and that a technician would have to be dispatched. STRIKE TWO.

WIRELESS BROADBAND. Minimum of a one-year contract. No dice. STRIKE THREE.

CELL PHONE AS MODEM. I own the LG enV, which despite it’s absolute awesomeness, cannot be used as a modem. This means I would have to upgrade my phone to the LG Dare, Slyder, or similar phone-as-a-modem capabilities. STRIKE FOUR.

SEARCH FOR WIRELESS. Darn neighbors are all password protected. STRIKE FIVE.

So there I was, alone in my room with a connection. When I ordered my last two computers I left out the modem in lieu of some Ethernet ports. Consider the lesson learned. It might be slow and clunky, but it’s not yet completely antiquated. From now on, have modem, will travel.

I’m tired of Websites that rely on user-generated content, yet make the foolish decision to launch before they stock up.

You know the kind I’m talking about. They’re the ones that promise to show you what other people earn; what their house is worth; how clean restaurants are; how they feel about their boss, etc. You show up at the front door expecting to find a wealth of information waiting with open arms. Instead, you input your search criteria and are met with zip, zilch and their good friend zero.

That’s why this blog entry should serve as a reminder to anyone who is planning to launch a new Website. Cool your jets until you have the goods.

It’s not OK to launch thinking that you will grow content along the way. You only have one chance to impress your visitor. Blow that and you’ll likely never win them back. And why should they ever return? Far too many of these Websites are eventually abandonded by their owners, leaving limited data behind. With so much to do and see on the Web, you only have one chance. No content, no visitors.

I’m a busy guy. I don’t have time to waste on your incomplete repository of information. At the very least consider hanging a shingle for your front door alerting visitors that there’s a good chance that you will not find what you are looking for. Sure, they’ll probably still bail – but at least they won’t be as angry.