Dear my friends: I don’t care about basketball. We’ve established this. It’s lame and boring and inspires moments of unsettling groupthink in you otherwise intelligent folks. Every time I try to bring up this perfectly reasonable point, you act as if I was accusing your grandmother of being Hitler. Anyway, I thought that this winter would be different. Just once we might have enjoyed the plethora of fun, interesting adventures this city has to offer, instead of spending the whole damned time camped in front of a television eating Funyuns and yelling. But now, that dream is dead. The NBA gets to have a season and I get to field about a million text messages reading, “that soundz cool, but I’m watching the game”. So, while I’m working on my ship-in-a-bottle (or getting sullenly shitfaced in my living room, whatevs), you guys go ahead and have fun watching a bunch of overpaid pituitary gland mutants trying to throw a leather pumpkin into a fishing net. See you all in March. Hopefully I’ll have a cool ship-in-a-bottle to show you.
Going Down in a Blaze
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