The Olympics Mean Discipline!

Watching the Olympics can be very inspiring and very educational. Fascinating cultures, amazing stories of dedication and triumph, and the icing on the cake is that it's some very cheap porn, piped right into your living room. Patriotic porn is good for America, what with what the economy flailing and all. So I am doing my part. Citizen Deb reporting for service, America!

My darling boyfriends Batman & Robin say that synchronized diving is the new Ft. Lauderdale. Two-by-two, the pretty men of the world scale the steps up to the board like it's a fantasy ark built by Noah after he came out and realized the animals stank but wouldn't an island of pretty men to hump be grand. He named that island Key West, and gay Christians lived happily ever after.

Seriously, it really can't get much gayer than two absolutely beautiful V-shaped men, waxed, greased and manscaped to Barneys and back, locked in precisely-timed synchronicity while they sail together, defying gravity-time-space, a mirror to the other, flawless grace falling, until at the same micro-moment they powerfully plunge below the surface to the depths and then to burst up again, reunited in the glory of their artful twin bodies. It's Speedo-tucked nuts times two. (Now that's a tongue-twister!)

But more importantly, the real sport of the summer Olympics is Women's Beach Volleyball. Nothing says summer like the beach, and specifically two women having sand celebrations while rolling their coconut-oiled slippery selves into each other. Here's something to say again and again if you need to inspire yourself in the middle of a boring meeting: Misty May Misty May Misty May Misty May. It's fun to say 'Misty May'--a lovely onomatopoeia, like "whisper" or "chime" or "cunnilingus."

Be warned, beach volleyball is VERY confusing. First of all, there's the bump, the set, and the spike---all of which are different moves. I know.

Secondly, to be patriotic you have to be able to tell the U.S. players apart. Kerri Walsh is the 7-foot-tall blond Amazon with REACH. If you were flying with her to a honeymoon in Vegas, and she got bumped up to first class as an Olympian but you didn't, it would be okay, because she could reach all the way back to row 7 to fondle you. So Kerri = Elastigirl. Misty May is the dark-haired hottie who presented her ass to Bush and said "Mr. President, you wanna?" And he did wanna, but then realized he shouldn't, so he brushed her sandy back instead. I would have gained so much respect for Bush if he had given Misty May a business-like, flat-handed slap firmly on her cheeks right there in front of God, the Chinese and NBC. No wonder he can't manage our country--the man can't even slap an ass.

Back to learning. Now that you can tell the team apart, you are ready to learn the harder part of volleyball: hand signals. Right before the serve, the player in front, who is called "the booty," gives the player in the back, called "the chick in the back" a signal. The signal tells her what game they are running. It took a lot of emails back and forth, but I now understand the secret language of beach volleyball hand signals.

For example, notice the fingers on player 1, named Sweet Cheeks:

That signal means: Slap my ass five times, and then give my lower right cheek a fire pinch to make it sting right where I'm pointing.

This one, as you can see, is a different hand signal. If you went up to her and did the 5-1, you would be WRONG! Let's look at what she is signaling.

It turns out this one means: Give my left cheek a tiny bite while you spank the right one and make me beg for another.

See how they know to ask for just the right thing? That's training, folks. That's discipline! Last but not least, there's this signal, a very special command:

That means: Just one spanking, and then two pancakes, please. I'm starving for some carbs, and I can't wait to get home to Deb and MS because they make these pecan pancakes, oh my god, and then we all like to crawl back into bed and spend all Sunday there, until I go workout and Deb and MS stay in bed, and then I bring them dinner and we all live happily ever after!

And that's why I'm a patriot, because every day we show the world that it's okay to dream big. Go USA!