C*M ON MY FACE!The NBA. Where last second madness erections happen.
Granted, I've kept up with most of the games in the NBA playoffs through drunken WAP browsing...or sparing TV watching...at bars...drunk. But still, who would have thought that four games in a seven game series would go into extra frames? In a 2-7 matchup, no less?
In my pre-playoffs post (yes, I used alliteration), I dismissed the Baby Bulls due to inexperience and, well, because the Celtics have star power. In fact, Paul Pierce and Jesus Shuttlesworth, er, Ray Allen have more experience in the playoffs in the tip of their penii than the whole Chicago team. But so far in the series, the Bulls have proven that they got charismatic balls. Who knew? Joakim Noah. Brad Miller. Ben Gordon. Derrick Rose. John freakin' Salmons?! They are like the naive but very willing girlfriend that doesn't know how to go down on a guy but is trying so hard that you're left with an unfulfilled but pleasurable mess. Alright, bad analogy.
But still, if you don't know what I'm talking about, six games in this series so far. Four of them have gone to at least one overtime. I think, five of them were decided by less than 4 points. And surprisingly, the Bulls have the Celtics on the ropes. I will be watching the deciding Game 7 somewhere very drunk and very debaucherous, wearing my Ben Gordon jersey. I want this underdog to start barkin'.
In other playoff contagiousness, it took dudes who aren't named Tracy McGrady to get my beloved Rockets past the first round. Actually, it took a very naive, young ball club in the Portland Trail Blazers to lay down for my Houston squad. But, by God, we made it, and now, we get the right to have Kobe, Trevor Ariza, and Pau Gasol wipe our nappy faces up and down the floor. DAMMIT!
Still, it feels good. Like first time in 12 years good, which is the length of time between now and the very next time, I believe, a woman will let me stick my penis inside of her. **Dejected "Wah Wah" Sound**
Granted, I've kept up with most of the games in the NBA playoffs through drunken WAP browsing...or sparing TV watching...at bars...drunk. But still, who would have thought that four games in a seven game series would go into extra frames? In a 2-7 matchup, no less?
In my pre-playoffs post (yes, I used alliteration), I dismissed the Baby Bulls due to inexperience and, well, because the Celtics have star power. In fact, Paul Pierce and Jesus Shuttlesworth, er, Ray Allen have more experience in the playoffs in the tip of their penii than the whole Chicago team. But so far in the series, the Bulls have proven that they got charismatic balls. Who knew? Joakim Noah. Brad Miller. Ben Gordon. Derrick Rose. John freakin' Salmons?! They are like the naive but very willing girlfriend that doesn't know how to go down on a guy but is trying so hard that you're left with an unfulfilled but pleasurable mess. Alright, bad analogy.
But still, if you don't know what I'm talking about, six games in this series so far. Four of them have gone to at least one overtime. I think, five of them were decided by less than 4 points. And surprisingly, the Bulls have the Celtics on the ropes. I will be watching the deciding Game 7 somewhere very drunk and very debaucherous, wearing my Ben Gordon jersey. I want this underdog to start barkin'.
In other playoff contagiousness, it took dudes who aren't named Tracy McGrady to get my beloved Rockets past the first round. Actually, it took a very naive, young ball club in the Portland Trail Blazers to lay down for my Houston squad. But, by God, we made it, and now, we get the right to have Kobe, Trevor Ariza, and Pau Gasol wipe our nappy faces up and down the floor. DAMMIT!
Still, it feels good. Like first time in 12 years good, which is the length of time between now and the very next time, I believe, a woman will let me stick my penis inside of her. **Dejected "Wah Wah" Sound**
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