Writers, Take a Lesson From Michael Phelps

I am tired of watching that Phelps on the medal stand. He is even tired of himself. You can tell. He uses the medals stand as something to stretch against. I am surprised this has not been banned yet, or seen as a sign of disrespect like the US cyclists' mouth-covering.

I was going to write this entry about how much Michael Phelps irritates me, and how the only thing I like about him is what I learned about him on a Today show interview: that before he won the 200 free, he was listening to Lil Wayne on his headphones. I like to picture Michael Phelps rapping like Lil Wayne, only with a really bad lisp. I like to picture him saying "pussy" and "venereal disease" and "Nigerian hair." I am pretty sure Michael Phelps is an amazing rapper.

So like I said I was going to write about how much I don't like Michael Phelps, but now that I am writing this I am pretty sure I love him: wholly and completely. It was the Lil Wayne that did it. And his endearing, questionable, co-dependent relationship with his mother, and his mother's adorable tacky outfits. And the stretching against the medal stand instead of treating it like some sacred object.

Okay, now I get it. Now I am getting this new discovery I'm having, this new love of Phelps. It is about that medals stand thing. It is about him being amazing while not being cocky and instead being a dork. He is a modest person. He is tired of himself and his medals. He loves to get in a pool and swim every day; that is just what he does. He is always thinking about stretching and water. Stretching and water make him happy.

Everyone famous should learn a lesson from him, which is modesty. And especially people who are not that famous, like writers who are immodest and braggy and conceited. That is something that irritates me lately a whole bunch. I want writing to be like stretching and water to me.

Also, finally, and most importantly, Aaron Piersall is totally hot. Michael Phelps is not hot.