Sweet Memories and Sweet Custard

Lord, another game already? How many more of these do we have, anyway?

Ugh, sorry for the whininess, Diary. It's probably just the salsa talking. Dinner last night with Joy was incredible: unlimited fish tacos and no corkage at Goncalo's. After dinner I did the thing where I cut a small piece of the flan and then took the surrounding whole. Joy loves that bit. Plus while she was laughing I was able to shovel a few huge spoonfuls into my mouth without her noticing. I have to be creative to get around this bullshit no-custards rule she forced on me last month.

The only thing worse than coaching and coaching against an opposing little guy is coaching against an opposing little guy I love, Stevie Nash. I may have to start CJ over Monta tonight just to get that precious inch of advantage.

I remember the first time I saw Stevie. He was swishing three after three and he just looked so adorably little. Donnie had been talking my ear off about him, but I didn't need any more convincing, not after that showing. Not many people know this, but I was the one who told Stevie to grow his hair out, which coincided with him becoming a star. Basketball is a complicated game.

Hoo boy, Diary. Looks like it's about time to head over to Oracle. But not before a quick nap.

the WHATland???

man this sounds crazy but sometimes its like the internet doesn't even know me

Oh, The Things I'd Do To Joe Lieberman

My surgery was a success... the doc got the bone spurs out nice and easy, and he said I should be good as new in three months. I told him I wished he could say the same for our health care system. He just stared at me.

What a fiasco. I knew I should never have gotten "public option" tattooed in 256-point font on the left side of my body, stretching from ankle to armpit. (When I play, the only part visible between my shorts and socks is the "-blic"... Vlad tells me that's the name of his hometown newspaper.) I knew Obambi was a corporatist at heart, but I thought we'd get an opt-out or a trigger or Medicare buy-in or something. But nope -- it all fell to shit. ClintonCare all over again. And here I am, laid up in one of the very fee-for-service ho$pitals that's bankrupting this country, watching our progressive dreams get murdered by a man named LIEberman.

I've spent the past two days writhing in my hospital bed and thinking about the stuff I'd do if Joe Lieberman and I were alone in a room together (in my head it's sort of a classic TV den). I've narrowed it down to five main things:

1) reading off a list of uninsured New Haven residents with a principled quiver in my voice, pausing to catch my emotions after every seventh name

2) telling him to imagine that Aetna CEO Ronald Williams is sitting on the couch, and to imagine that I'm him (Lieberman), then kneeling in front of the couch and simulating fellatio on the imaginary Williams, emitting loud noises to make it clear to Lieberman that I (i.e. him) am enjoying this

3) Pretending to be asleep, and then when he gets up to leave, bolting awake and just screaming and screaming in his face

4) producing a picture of his hero, former Connecticut governor and progressive legend Abraham A. Ribicoff, and slowly tearing it in half, while imperceptibly shaking my head

5) telling him that I appreciate his hard work on climate change and offering a handshake, then grabbing his hand, spinning him around so his back's to me and delivering a crazy, sloppy axe-handle punch to the back of his smug-ass neck

More later, diary.

Pics From Our Trip To Pittsburgh

The recession's really got some people down... Meka used a Nikon D60 lens here. Something I had forgotten: "Mister Rogers" was produced in Pittsburgh. Neat!

top 10 places 2 see a b00b

10. a carnival

9. sh0time

8. in like a meadow (i bet)

7. t!tty b-R

6. follow around biedrins n just see whut he duz

5. wedged in2 a strippR butt

4. nature sh0z

3. place where you get a whor 2 go

2. my mind/hRt (tie)

1. on a womans chest

I Am The Dreamiest Thing Going

The eyes. The 'ceps. The lips, diary. I mean, come on. I am presenting nothing less than a statue to the world at large.

Let's talk about why my two potential attractiveness flaws are actually enormous attractiveness strengths. The hairline scares some at first, as it bespeaks a masculinity few have ever considered. But look at it again, and you get used to it. (Boy, do you.) Then we come to the strident flare of the nostrils: much like the 'line, they initially disarm you. But why would you want to be armed around a piece of fine China like Kelenna Azubuike?

Also, to be clear, this is real deal... no Photoshop chicanery here. Just a little common-sense color balancing and Rubber Stamp removal of two "skin blemishes" that must have been camera dirt. Also, the photo was taken at Media Day, not in a Swiss meadow. But I do plan on going to Switzerland soon. I'm excited about the trip, and -- believe me -- so is Switzerland.

at least the computers like me :(

checked the twitter account just now. up to 224425 followers. how about that. 224425 followers and not one friend.

went over to basketball prospectus afterward and my numbers still look pretty good. im still behind randolph (whos killin it) and maggette but im clockin in at a .520 individual win %. my drtg is down to 104.3 which is probably the part im proudest about.

and diary if youre wondering if that has gotten me any respect the answer is NO. the euro guys put my head in the toilet again this afternoon. and then monta stole my car and drove it into a river and even the coaching staff told me not to be a pussy about it.

i wish there was someone in this world who understood how i feel

at least the computers like me :(

somebody tweeted me about something called basketball prospectus and at first i was all "naw keepin it real". but they said itd make me feel better about how things have been goin lately and so the basketball prospectus told me that i have a .595 winning percentage and at first i was like lol wut i'm not a team but i guess it means me and four average guys would be a 49-33 team. and i was like you mean me and four like guys from the gas station would be a six seed and then realized no it meant PLAYERS it meant average PLAYERS anthony. but still they said that was good and it does sound pretty good and matter of fact the last time the warriors were that good i was five. and my winning percentage (still lols me) is the best on the team like im the best player we got i guess

so now vlads starting over me and slapping at the ball like hes a cat and just looking gross. and i just gotta keep KILLIN IT from the bench

i wish there was someone in this world who understood how i feel

purity tests are gross

sick man whyd coach make us all take this i feel like barfin

Log 12.15.09

On the fifteenth day of every seventh month I exercise my penis.

* 800 jelqs (wet)

* 400 jelqs (dry)

* 120 Kegels (30 seconds per)

* 10 weight hangs (7.5 lbs/10 minutes per)

* 5 Peyronies stretches (23˚ avg straighten)

* 3.6 lbs skirt steak

* 2 oz water

I haven't ejaculated in over fifteen years.

$H!t 1 Bought 2dA

so f'n sexE -- nU BEST SHIRT

got 2 have ALWAZE -- 80 t00bz (of)

fierce az FUK -- 1 love sO much per¢

never trU party w/o 1 white baB

was running low on these

such fn hot KAR - don't Even nO how 2 open door - love sO much

UGH. Coaching, Am I Right?

I'm supposed to face the Spurs with these jokers? The Spurs are really good! I've read about them.

Ol' Mr. 1300 had a killer plan, too. It started off all normal-like, with Curry and Monta in the backcourt. Then CJ at the three, for a nice, tiny, stubby mismatch. Vlad'd still be my power forward, except I'd make him play while kneeling. He'd look like Dorf (love Dorf), plus it'd make for a great mismatch.

Center was the problem -- I could not think of a center to use. I like how good Mikki is at keeping his arms pinned to his sides when opponents are shooting near him. On the other hand, he's just so damned tall. Creeps me out. And a post-pneumonia fatty should not go around getting creeped out... my doctor was very forceful on that point. Speaking of giant freaks, Randolph asked me if he could play center and I projectile-spat a barely-chewed walnut in his face.

So I opened the box. Asked Keith Smart if he'd come out of retirement to be my five, but that question seemed to bother him; the other Keith I know, the Jennings variety, wasn't home when I called. My next thought was Pete Maravich -- could be a nice, thin, wispy mismatch -- but it turns out he's been dead for twenty years.

Coaching is just the shits. I drunk-dialed Lenny Wilkens at three AM last night (he's some kind of weirdo non-sleeper so I knew he'd be up) and offered him a deal: we meet in St. Louis, each draw one from the deck, high card takes the all-time wins record. I even told him we could use my favorite tits-&-bush deck, the one where they're all dressed up like military figures. Wilkens softly chuckled and asked after my family; click, was my response. Am I the only sane person left in this world?

Crap, just remembered: I left a couple hundred Now & Laters in the microwave. Take it sleazy, diary.

I WIPE MY ASS WITH ANTHONY MORROW

MORE LIKE PRONOUNCED MVP YOU PILE OF BITCHES

my top ten lady body parts

almost wrote lady body farts mmloLOL so crunk

as if bc there are only like three lady body farts just butt arm and mouth i think

ok so

10. B00BZ

9. hot leeeeggz

8. da BUTT

7. part where da leggz touch DA BUTT

6. front hip bone part (HAWT)

5. (holes)

4. jacked arms rihanna WHUT

3. neck -- like a nice smooth neck

2. soul (talking/painting)

1. T!T$

Pics From The Time I Hid From A Monster

Boy was I scared! Pics came out great though.

What If We Never Find Out Who The Mother Is?

Had a really fun brunch with Marissa and Lindsey and the girls today... had a couple more mimosas than I should've, so apologies in advance in advance for any spelling errors.

Anyway, talk turned, as it usually does, to the identity of the mother of Ted Mosby's children. Marissa is still pushing Stella, and while that's plausible, it just feels unsatisfying. Lindsey thinks it's Barney. I love her creativity, and obviously the denouement of that would be hardcore hilar, but, come on. I'm sticking to my guns with Robin. Call me a Season One sucker -- the girls certainly did -- but I still want to see those two make it. Roxanne pointed out that that'd mean the pilot was a huge cheat. Come on, people: it's Bays and Thomas. If Robin really is the mom, you can bet they have a pretty brilliant way of explaining it.

FOURTH RING HERE I COME

"Maria (I Like It Loud)", Scooter

Yeoooh man, turn up

the BASS boy!

I like it, I like it, I
like it, I like it
I like it, I like it, I
like it, I like it
I like it, I like it, I
like it, I like it
I like it, I like it, I
like it... LOUD!

Allright everybody!
Tie your shoes! Yeah!

I Have Sketched Anthony Randolph's Soul...

...and it looks like this

Pics From Seder (1st Night of Hanukkah)

What a magical evening.

learning SUCKS imo

so guess what i KILLED it again tonight

and yet somehow all killing it yields is sixteen minutes which what one might call a pittance

as much as i have become a real chain of command believer this bothered me. so i talked to keith after the game and said look straight up what do i have to do to earn some grownup minutes and he said look

he paused and stuttered and said look

he said i know who you are and how good you are and if it was up to me youd start but it isnt look nellies the boss and 1300 wins and mikki hooked him up with a primo cupcake maker so youre SOL young man

and hey

i respect keith smart for unspooling it all nice and clean like that and look i know more than i did b4 and on this crazy spinning rock one might say thats all 1 can ask. but i just got pouty and i said keith lets go first principles on this shit and he said dogg we can go aristotelian but we might not go back and i said DID I STUTTER

so he called nellie and speakerphoned us and i said nellie what is it that you most want to achieve. and he said breaking the alltime win record and also drinking every cocktail any pretty girl ever thought of and also making a visible dent in the national supply of hotpockets and i said nellie what about ur heart and he said WHAT HEART and *click*

so now i dunno i mean part of me feels like well roll wit it chain of command but then part of me feels like we can topple this bullshit lets kneecap smart now figure it out later but then still a third part of me is like man keith smart really gets himself some nice shirts. so im in a little bit of stasis and i told my parents id never go stasis on them but man this franchise sucks

otoh piles of money and the fellas are nice so maybe we play this out and then i figure out what i want 2 do w my life

thx 4 listening diRE

What Was That "Where The Wild Things Are" Horseshit?

Every once in a while Baron sends me what are called "screeners" -- basically CDs (?) of movies that aren't yet in the video stores. This one came in the mail the other day, with a note just saying "this will change your life." When I saw that I said oh boy. I had a vague recollection of a book with this title that folks were pussies about a few decades back, and knowing Baron's proclivities, I just knew it was gonna be some sorta hippy-dippy stuff. Eight Fat Tires and a fallen sheet cake later I got bored and popped it in anyway.

Hoo boy, was this torture... just a little asshole waddling around with a bunch of half-baked Muppets in the woods. And the music! When did screeching baby talk at random times become something you put in a movie instead of something you put someone in a hospital for?

Joy thought I was too hard on it. She told me that it was written by the guy who wrote "A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius," and I felt like retorting "more like the guy who wrote 'A Heartbreaking Work Of Faggering Genius,'" but I decided that I've been hitting the groups jokes a little hard lately, and plus I fell asleep before I could get it out. A couple hours later I woke up to find that Joy had put "Midnight Run" on for me... first thing I saw was de Niro slamming that "Beverly Hills Cop" guy with the car door. Joy is a helluva woman.

I'm worried about Baron, though. Change my life? This movie was so bad it made me want to coach a basketball team.

omg i knew it

so excited and man who knew julia roberts was a dog

Getting It Done

Yo, diary! Had my best game of the year tonight, because I was all fired up, for the first time in a while. Why? I finally figured out who the Dems need to primary next November.

Reid? Nah. He's a pantywaist, but the optics of that aren't worth it. Dodd's a big-business bitch, but he's got some behind-the-scenes flex that progressives shouldn't just throw away. Specter? I do hate me some Specter, but that dude has cut left hard since turning, and he seems like a solid vote on cap-and-trade... he's definitely solid on EFCA. And while the mention of Blanche Lincoln's name makes my blood boil, the sad truth is, she's as good as we're gonna do in Arkansas right now.

No. We're throwing a curveball. We're throwing this thing wide open.

We're gonna primary Evan Bayh (D - Wellpoint).

I can hear the screams now. "He's our Midwest golden boy!" "Indiana will turn red again if you rock the boat!" "Birch's kid?! Bayh is Hoosier royalty!" Yes, yes and yes... that's exactly the point. If we take out the crown prince of the centrists, people will know that progressives mean business. I mean, the filibuster rules are gonna get a tweak no matter what, given the way the Rethugs are gumming up the works... we need to forget about 60 votes. Let's get 50 votes we can count on, who aren't gonna fuck us with this HCR-sabotaging estate-tax-lowering prettyboy bullshit. If the Dems are gonna mean anything in this world, they need to draw a line in the sand. And that line should run right through Evan Bayh's sneering little head.

Tomorrow morning, I'm gonna get Hamsher on the horn and send out the word. Some Lakers tix ought to do the trick... my boy Jordan Farmarr can hook that up (hardcore progressive, BTW -- great guy). If we can sell Sirota on it, this thing could have real legs. I'm gonna go look up state senators, see if there's a diamond in the rough. I haven't been this psyched in forever!

Pics From My National Parks Vacation

Smallball Is A Cruel Mistress

Dearest Diary,

Apologies if the following entry is less than clear... I write you with the uncertain, fledgling feelings of a man adrift. My recent days have seen sunshine and stormclouds alternate with shocking frequency. I can not say that my adventures have been dull; they have been numerous, and often vibrant. And yet I fear that the uncompromising might of the Thunder shall soon overtake the quiet pleasures of beloved Phoebus.

Every contest we wage of late follows a similar pattern. I take the field of play with Mssrs. Ellis and Watson, my fellows in diminution, and whichever two tall men have proven to be the most ineffectual competitors. And for a time, we ride, oh, ye gods, we ride! We small men flit about, hither and thither, absconding with basketballs not meant for us and running for our satisfaction... as the hourglass reaches its fattest, we have often been at advantage. And dear diary, you shall believe me when I tell you that these early triumphs count among my sweetest memories. To befuddle a larger foe with your quickness and aplomb -- it is a sweet taste few men in history have ever savored. At times, we think our glories shall last forever... we few, we happy, tiny few.

But as the hourglass dwindles towards its conclusion, our tiny attacks lose their potency. We grow fatigued from our unrelenting efforts, and our opponents learn to withstand our whizzes and slaps... my entreaties towards the selected basket fall cruelly short, and an patently worn Mr. Ellis begins to lose command of the contest ball altogether. Our larger brethren let their counterparts achieve freely, clearing paths to the basket with a determination that borders on polite. Our emulation of David falleth short; of late, only Goliath has drunk from the chalice of victory.

As I am still a freshly minted apprentice as of this writing, I know not quite how to interpret this whirlwind of excitement and failure. Will this undersized journey bear fruit, as we grow more skilled and confident in the wizardry of our midgetry? Is this more an edifying experience than an athletic strategy -- are our coaches of various shapes and colors trying to acquaint us with the gossamer nature of life's joys? Or is this, as several of my compatriots have suggested, just some really shitty coaching?

I know not, dear diary... I can not say from whence this darkness came. An apprentice has no answers. He has only his studies, and his faith, and a box of Belgian caramels that his parents were kind enough to send via post. Caramel, you heal me! My parents are wonderful, commendable, attractive people, and I pray only that my struggles will not bring shame upon their house. The Curry name hangs heavy around my swanlike neck, and yet there is no other weight I would more gladly assume.

We depart now for New Jersey, a land bearing a team whose miseries outstrip even ours. I shall write again once our next contest is completed. Diary, you are a torch on a chilly mountain pass, and if I do not thank you often enough for your unerring support and wisdom, the failing is mine.

I remain,

as ever,

Your Steph

What Tonight's Loss Felt Like...

...inside my heart

"We Are The Robots", Kraftwerk

guys were bummed after tough loss, so 1 sang this 4 them 2 cheer them up

We're charging our battery
And now we're full of energy
We are the robots
We are the robots
We are the robots
We are the robots

We're functioning automatic
And we are dancing mechanic
We are the robots
We are the robots
We are the robots
We are the robots

Ja tvoi sluga
ja tvoi Rabotnik

we are programmed just to do
anything you want us to
we are the robots
we are the robots
we are the robots
we are the robots

we're functioning automatic
and we are dancing mechanic
we are the robots
we are the robots
we are the robots
we are the robots

Ja tvoi sluga
ja tvoi Rabotnik

Ja tvoi sluga
ja tvoi Rabotnik

We are the robots

Log 12.07.09

Had to get myself ejected early... wanted to make sure I'd have enough time to blast my ankles.

* plantar flexion: 20 min, max 85˚

* dorsi flexion: 26 min, max 74˚

* inversion: 30 min, max 88˚

* eversion: 45 min, max 126˚ (right foot only - this scared me)

man who am i kidding with this mohawk

boy i can be a real turkey sometimes. i heard maggette say that he really liked kanyes faded mohawk a while back and the guys have been listening to a lot of ye lately so i figured itd be a cool kind of comeback move. really start off on the right foot after the swine flu thing and start to get myself a little bit of cred with these guys. instead everybody calls me toilet brush and gives me crazy bruising hard dead arms. i really put myself in a pickle this time.

its not like i can just shave it now. that way theyll know that they got to me. nope ole cj just has to keep going to war with a horrible looking head for at least a couple more weeks.

if youre wondering how basketball is going the answer is terrible. i had my fifth good game in a row but nellie thought steph curry would be more useful than me in the fourth. steph was so tired he was waddling around like an overtaxed chiahuahua. was nellies response hey we should get this kid some rest and let watson give us some good minutes. no diary of course it wasnt. nellies response was to do this real racist asian impression at me about homework. keith says nellies been doing that a lot lately and it made no sense in context here no matter how dumb my hair is but the fellas all loved it. because when someones crapping on ole cj its always a party i guess.

ive been watching the latest season of the ultimate fighter. theres this guy on there zak jensen. everybody picks on him and writes girl names on his head and locks him in the bathroom. hes even got a fauxhawk i mean hes basically the cj of the house. i guess he just beat a dude to death in a bathroom in mexico recently. and i think about that and how i bet those other mixed martial artists probably dont make so much fun of him anymore. and i wonder what its gonna take for these guys to stop making fun of me. theres got to be some kind of reckoning for all this at some point.

well gotta go diary thanks for listening

omg poor frasier

got 2 jet (game's about 2 start) but just had to get this up. just goes 2 show: u never know what will happen on the internet

What It Is Like... When I Dream

my top ten buttz

just for now. buttz can change obvi LOL

10 jessica alba DAAANG

9 rihanna wutta BUTT

8 taylor swift i like ur BUTT

7 amy adams

6 megan fox u have a nice BUTT

5 rachel mcadams haz a BUTT

4 WINSLET GOTTA BUTT

3 josh duhamel

2 britney u had a rough time but vlad still likes ur BUTT

1 KELLI CLARKSON I LOVE UR BUTT GREAT JOB WITH UR BUTT CALL ME SO WE CAN TALK ABOUT UR BUTT

WTF?!

so sick -- i hate that this is a thing

"What The Fuck", Funkagenda (Original Club Mix)

They know what is what
But they don't know what is what
They just strut
What the fuck?
(x94)

Back To Work

The best thing about being back: the chair in my office. It's so soft and deep, cups my lumps perfectly... that thing is a treasure. Settle in there with a four-pack of wine coolers and an easy Sudoku puzzle and you are GOLDEN. I whipped off a quick four-hour nap in that bad boy earlier today.

On the down side, Keith Smart is really starting to get on my nerves. He came into my office -- during my twenty-minute nap cooldown -- and told me about all these alignments and plays and whozits and whatsits. Shoved a bunch of papers in my face. I pulled my eyelids wide and feigned buckteeth and said "ohhhh, teechaaa, I wanta mo homewuuuuk." In retrospect, I shouldn't have gone racial on him; a Laotian intern walked by my door just as I really kicked in the accent, and I think she started crying. But Keith got the message. He crumpled the papers up and slunk out, real slow, shoulders heaving. He may have been crying too, come to think of it.

We're playing Houston tonight. Tough team to match up against: they've got a really short frontcourt, so I'm going to have to get creative if I want us to be smaller (AND I DO). C.J. at the four is what I'm thinking. We'll see who mismatches who, Adelman, you fuck.

Smell ya later, diary... Bonnie Hunt and Dr. Oz are calling.

Log 12.03.09

On the third day of every month I work out my face.

600 lip puckers

120 nostril flares (w/ resistance)

90 chin raises

50 eyebrow pushes

40 cheek sucks (no resistance)

30 blink sprints

25 power furrows

20 ear flexes (10 lbs per)

28 rice cakes

1 Powerbar (vanilla)

My Favorite "How I Met Your Mother" Episode

Someone asked this question on the AOL fanboard, and my response was immediate: "Can't pick one." Just can't do it. It'd be easier if you asked me what my, like, favorite eighty episodes are, and even then I'd be leaving out some real gems.

But you know what: that's just cowardice on my part. Sometimes you've got to make some tough choices... sometimes a man needs to take a stand. So I sat down and watched the whole series again, trying to figure out my favorite episode. It was -- you guessed it -- really, really fun. (This time, through, the character I enjoyed the most was Lily. Go figure.)

So without further ado, Diary, my favorite episode: the ninth episode in Season Two, 31st episode overall...

...you guessed it. "Slap Bet", a.k.a. "Robin Sparkles."

I know, I know, not the most creative choice. What can I say? It just holds up. The slap bet stuff is fantastic, and really important for the whole series, needless to say. Some really classic Barneyisms here. And I'll be damned if "Let's Go To The Mall" isn't catchy as hell! The ep's just great, winning, hilarious fun all the way through. Quintessential "HIMYM."

Feels good to get that settled. I'm off to re-watch the first two seasons of "Big Bang Theory"... people tell me I need to give it another chance.

A CLIP THAT WILL BLOW YOUR MINDDDD

i forget how to upload clips on2u diary but

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM

basically this one kid charlie is all up on this other kidz finger and its LOLOLOLOLOL

man where do all these great clips from i swear the internet is like the best thing in the world after basketball and twitter

EDIT: and my son

Places I've Been Lately With My Championship Rings

* on the beach

* a Thai restaurant close to my house

* a Saturn dealership (yup, they still exist)

* just around: here and there

* a barbecue restaurant, not that close to my house

* match.com

* with my dogs

* with my dawgz

* UP IN PEOPLE'S SHIT

Howard Dean: I Love You, But Settle Down

Saw this over on TAPPED this morning:

According to Dean, the most important component of the health care bill is the public option. "If we don’t have a choice, this bill is worthless and should be defeated," the former Governor of Vermont said.

C'mon, HD. Insuring 31 million Americans, lowering the burden on middle-class families, ending rescission... that's worthless? You're talking turkey. What happened to the guy I canvassed for five years ago?

The left is killing me. It's like we're afraid to win. The Rethugs are just licking their chops right now.

All for now, diary. Oh, we lost today... lost hard. I let the bigger Nuggets do anything they damn well pleased. Russ Turner and I watched some film after the game and we both just started laughing. It's like, what did I think I was doing out there? Good Christ, I'm bad at basketball.

I'm gonna write a really long, shrill e-mail to MoveOn about this Dean thing. Will let you know what I hear.

me and my blocks

sometimes when i go up for a block it's just a regular basketball play

sometimes when i go up for a block i NAIL it and it just feels RIGHT like that ball belongs in those STANDS UNGHH

sometimes when i go up for a block it all comes together perfect like my body is just finding a groove and it's all just smooth jazz from here till springfield

sometimes when i go up for a block i think i can see everything like the whole scheme of things and i can take everything and heal it and get it all working again. i can shot-block the PAIN and i can shot-block the INJUSTICE and i can send all the negativity right back into the face of the blazer that it came from and everything will finally be really good like i was told it'd be

sometimes when i go up for a block i can feel the outlines of ideas like time and space and life and death and i realize that these are just ideas that we tell ourselves and that really it's all more of a -- like a donut-shaped spectrum with this gentle kind of -- well

but usually when i go up for a block i miss the ball and get called for a foul and fall on my butt with my arms and legs whipping around like car-lot streamers and nellie looks mad and monta looks mad and my parents at home look mad and i just have to climb within myself and focus on not crying while i get ready to box out on the second free throw

basketball is a complicated game