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a tiny gymnastics note
I suppose this is a spoiler, so I shall cut it.
You were not imagining things: you did in fact just hear that gymnast, the taller dark-haired one whose name I can't remember (there's the noisy little one named Jonathan, the tall redhead named Justin, the medium-sized dark-haired one whose name I can't remember, the Chinese kid named Kevin, the Indian kid named Raj, and the Russian kid named Sascha -- in roughly that order of precedence, now that I think about it) say "Never give up, never surrender". It happened. Oh, you crazy gymnastics kids, how popular culture permeates all the way through to you even though you can't possibly ever have time to go to the movies.
You were not imagining things: you did in fact just hear that gymnast, the taller dark-haired one whose name I can't remember (there's the noisy little one named Jonathan, the tall redhead named Justin, the medium-sized dark-haired one whose name I can't remember, the Chinese kid named Kevin, the Indian kid named Raj, and the Russian kid named Sascha -- in roughly that order of precedence, now that I think about it) say "Never give up, never surrender". It happened. Oh, you crazy gymnastics kids, how popular culture permeates all the way through to you even though you can't possibly ever have time to go to the movies.

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Oh, boys.
Also, are you watching the women's tomorrow, and if so, can I come over?
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But when one is truly excited by an athlete's performance, one likes to squee a bit, and it's nice to share the squee with someone who gets it, rather than interrupt one's quietly reading roommate with yet another tedious development in Olympic history.
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We could even order a pizza, if we felt like it.