The Phelps Phenomenon

The Phelps Phenomenon
By Chloe Dinnerrolly (August 18, 2008)

He's the Little Engine That Could, only he's not so little. At 6'4", he topples over most of the employees at the local Home Depot and with an arm span that can wrap around Kim Kardashian's ass twice, has the machinery to swim as fast and frantic as a Cuban refugee dog-paddling his way to the Florida coast. Collecting Olympic gold medals like Brody Jenner collects STDs, he has freestyled, breaststroked, butterflied, and stolen the title of America's Greatest Hero from Howie Mandell in just one week.

He's a record breaker, moneymaker, gold-taker, and shoulder-shaker; he's Michael Phelps.

Only 23 years-old and he's already flashing more gold medallions than a Colombian drug lord, or any other athlete in the history of the Olympics for that matter. The Speed Racer is the first to ever score 8 for 8 at a single Olympic Games, and throughout the height of his popularity, has never once slept with Paris Hilton. What a feat.

A media frenzy has exploded. From every toe-dip-temperature-test to the internet porn he surfs through between swimming meets, TV cameras have broadcasted his every move, every dive, and every bowel movement, disallowing him any privacy or sanitary wipes -just as Michael Lohan would demand it if ever granted his own reality show. (I Don't Know How to Shut Up. When Will I Ever Learn That Nobody Cares? Please Look At Me! with Michael Lohan)

Program directors are making it a top priority to zoom-in on the stars and stripes on the bulge of his swimsuit, making sure all the world knows where he comes from. The United States may be the land of the fatties, with Ritalin doped-up school children and a president who looks like a chimpanzee, but the country's also home to a vicious swimming maniac of a champion who can effortlessly swipe your pot of gold, accomplishing it all on foreign soil and chlorine pools. In your face, Commies!

Americans haven't been this patriotic since Nipplegate 2004 during Super Bowl XXXVII.

It's a nationwide outbreak of The Phelps Phever; symptoms include head bursting screaming at your television, attempting to backstroke in your half-filled bathtub, throwing on a pair of swimming goggles and aSpeedo to take a trip to the grocery store, and pissing a mix of Vitamin Water and Sunny Delight. It's very easy to catch, as the excitement is spreading quickly. Parents are advised to vaccinate their infants.

As Michael Mania sweeps the nation, major million dollar endorsement deals for the young swimming soldier are beginning to follow. Nike has called and so has Geico and 1800MATTRESS. With his hairless armpits and non-existant happy trail, assumingly there are no tangles in his underground jungle, as Phelps is now the new spokesperson for Gillette razors.

Although his chin can challenge Jay Leno in a faceoff and his ears pan out like wings on a pterodactyl, that can ultimately work against him in the water, or with the ladies, his features are no hindering to his speed, agility, and universal fame.

He can mash-potatah and do the twist; Michael Phelps is capable of just about anything he sets his mind on. It's going to take a hefty amount of supersonic fairy dust to fill his shoes-- but Michael Phelps doesn't even own a pair of shoes!