I’m like 97% sure that this sport started on a dare.

“Please don’t pop a boner, please oh please god no!”
Craig: “What are we doing again?”
Mark: “We need to practice our luge doubles.”
Craig: “…”
Mark: “So I’m gonna need you to lie down on top of me.”
Craig: “Mark, this is a couch.”
Mark: “It’s just practice. We don’t have to be moving.”
Craig: “Mark, you asked me over to watch football.”
Mark (turns on football game): “Now come over here.”
“Bro you wanna do butt stuff but on ice going really fast in front if everyone?”
Prolly like that
You start off with a bit of spooning and before you know it you are in the winter Olympics.
:: halfway down the run ::
Top: Ok, you know, that’s making it really hard to concentrate.
Bottom: Well if you would not bounce us around so much…
I have cackled loudly and now I need to explain why to my children.
Thank you.
“think of it as an extra safety restraint”
boys will be boys
Me: “It’s the hot dog luge”
Wife: “What? Why?”
Me: “Weiner rests in the split of the buns”
Wife:

Luge is confusing enough. This is just moreso.
Seriously. For both events, I feel like the skill curve starts at “try not to die” and just keeps climbing in degrees of “get better at not dying” and “point your feet in the right direction”.
When you do things right, people won’t be sure you’ve done anything at all.
But for real, it’s a dumb sport. All sports are dumb, but this one more so than most others for sure.
Just two bros, nuts to butts, at breakneck speeds.
I’m surprised that even needed clarification. Like, we’re not watching a couple of red pandas in M1 Abrams playing water polo with telephone poles, what the fuck about that picture is baffling to you?
My only question is how terrifying is it being the top in this scenario? Looks precarious at best.
I’d imagine that when your forward velocity is that great, your desire to not become human luge paint is generally such that you can eat charcoal and produce only the finest of Tiffany cuff links. Not sure what that says about the Lego brick below you, but they made their choice.
This is just a normal Friday night for me
I’m a bit confused. Which one is the top here?
The bottom man is the top man, obviously.
The one on the bottom.
And yet the guy on top technically finishes first
He’s called the power bottom because he’s generating all the power.
Big “who’s on first” vibes
Starts solo, and then your buddy asks if he can join.
Or you are too scared to try it yourself, so you ask your friend(me), to hold you so you feel safe going down that big hill
I looked up the origins of the luge double and you’re not too far from the truth!
where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons.
You know…that actually looks kinda gay if you ask me.
why else would you watch it?















