Good morning, Olympianistas/os and Cleophiles!
Cleo goes for it again,
in the Sept 25th 2020 “CLEO and COMPANY” on Sherpa.
She manages to put the shot… it’s where she put it that may cause some problems with her points.
Also with her dinner.
And maybe with her family… although she usually gets away with everything, where the Cliffords are concerned.
Claude, in fact, seems to be taking the interruption in stride… or is he taking it in shock?
He does have a bit of the numb, uncomprehending look of someone who’s just been missed by a … well, I was going to say a “car”…
But maybe someone who was just missed by an 8 pound metal ball would wear the same expression.
I said 8 lbs because I looked it up… and that’s the weight of the women’s shot. Then men put 16 pounds.
But it would make sense if a female basset’s shot is lighter.
I’m sure it’s plenty heavy to flatten a barbecue, though.
I was surprised that the women’s shot was only half the weight of the men’s…
after all, some men are smaller than some women…
and some female shot putters are… um… less dainty than… let’s say … your average Balanchine soloist.
But in spite of that advantage the record distances are about the same for men and for women…. the _humans, I mean.
I couldn’t find any records for male and female basset hounds… or for any other animals, either.
The sports world is so species-ist!
And now the question is… what’s for dinner?
No doubt about what Cleo will have.
But will Claude… or Clara… rinse off those steaks and finish cooking them on the stove?
We don’t even know whether they were almost done or still practically raw. (which in the case of my steak is probably pretty much done anyway.)
We do know that the barbecue is done. Kaput. Fini. Terminada.
Good morning, Olympianistas/os and Cleophiles!
Cleo goes for it again,
in the Sept 25th 2020 “CLEO and COMPANY” on Sherpa.
She manages to put the shot… it’s where she put it that may cause some problems with her points.
Also with her dinner.
And maybe with her family… although she usually gets away with everything, where the Cliffords are concerned.
Claude, in fact, seems to be taking the interruption in stride… or is he taking it in shock?
He does have a bit of the numb, uncomprehending look of someone who’s just been missed by a … well, I was going to say a “car”…
But maybe someone who was just missed by an 8 pound metal ball would wear the same expression.
I said 8 lbs because I looked it up… and that’s the weight of the women’s shot. Then men put 16 pounds.
But it would make sense if a female basset’s shot is lighter.
I’m sure it’s plenty heavy to flatten a barbecue, though.
I was surprised that the women’s shot was only half the weight of the men’s…
after all, some men are smaller than some women…
and some female shot putters are… um… less dainty than… let’s say … your average Balanchine soloist.
But in spite of that advantage the record distances are about the same for men and for women…. the _humans, I mean.
I couldn’t find any records for male and female basset hounds… or for any other animals, either.
The sports world is so species-ist!
And now the question is… what’s for dinner?
No doubt about what Cleo will have.
But will Claude… or Clara… rinse off those steaks and finish cooking them on the stove?
We don’t even know whether they were almost done or still practically raw. (which in the case of my steak is probably pretty much done anyway.)
We do know that the barbecue is done. Kaput. Fini. Terminada.