My Homie introduced me to the amusement of Roy and HG last week. They are a pair of Aussie sports commentators – who look like sports commentators, but who’ve shunned Aussie Rules for Male Gymnastics Dub.
Basically, what they do is voice over gymnastics (and other carefully selected sports such as Greco Roman Wrestling and 10m Bomb Diving) in a slightly titillating and unconventional way by adding deadpan and often onomatopoeic comments about cocks and balls.
It’s a TUA (truth universally acknowledged) that Homie and I don’t tend to share the same end of the humour spectrum – generally, my jokes are fucking hilarious and his aren’t. So when he sat himself down next to me on the sofa, lap top in hand, with a You Tube clip to show me, I tried my best to appear interested and looked at the screen.
This time, he enthusiastically introduced me to Roy and HG, who on this occasion were doing the commentary for the men’s gymnastics final at the Sydney Olympics. I’ve always quite enjoyed gymnastics – even the men’s, so I gave it a go…and, it seems if there’s one thing Homie and I agree on, it’s cocks and balls.
I found it all rather amusing. If nothing else it gave my mind a whole new image of a ‘Battered Sav’, or battered saveloy sausage, as you might know it. That’s the move where the boy-gymnast lands supine in the full frontal position with a resounding thud, usually after descending from a reasonable height. Ouch. Pounding is the word that springs to mind, after Battered Sav, that is. As Roy and HG were at pains to point out, you could “sense the swelling already.”
Then there was the ‘Crazy Date’. That’s the one where the acrobat does multi-scissor-kicks while standing on his hands and rotating in a circle. Down Under, ‘date’ is a slang term for ass, apparently…hence the name. This is one of the onomatopoeic ones too – that particular gymnastics manoeuver is how I’d physically describe a real-life crazy date if I was supple, toned and had springs in the balls of my feet, not to mention full body weight lifting biceps. And, if I went on dates that happened to be crazy, and as a result felt the need to talk about them afterwards…
So, when the poor gym bunny stops his crazying, he is often left in the upside down hand supported, spread-eagled position. That’s called ‘Hello Boys’…and as Roy and HG kindly point out, more than often seems to be performed while facing the judging panel, which I find highly suspicious, if not inordinately homoerotic. Surely those wholesome looking judges couldn’t be a bunch of poofters…?
I found all this very funny, in much the same the way as I find notice boards outside sandwich shops that say ‘baps’ funny. I even thought of an amusing name for the female version of the Crazy Date – the Disco Fanny.
Knowing that Fannies Down Under (ho ho ho) aren’t quite what they are here in England – ie they are asses, I figured replacing the ‘Date’ of Crazy Date with ‘Fanny’ and femming it up a bit with ‘Disco’, would be just the trick for the discerning female gymnast. Anyone who’s heard me use the expression ‘Disco Fanny‘ in it’s UK context should appreciate that, ahem, two-fold…
Anyway, the whole Roy and HG experience was made even more amusing for me, by my Homie’s coy comment after male gymnast supremo Alexi Nemov’s routine was complete – ‘he’s a good looking boy…” Clearly there’s more to HG and Roy than the witty chatter, as far as he’s concerned.
Regardless of your views on cocks, balls and banging both of the above on hard floors, I recommend you watch this right now. Oh, and for the really die hard lezzas among you who really don’t want to stare at boy candy, there’s a girl’s version too – although nowhere near as funny as the original boy-version. As I said, this is poofters all the wa-hey!