Almost Infamous - Views from a Black Intelligentleman

Mavs win, but I'm still MAD

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Game 1, NBA Finals. The intensity, the pressure, the lights, the dancers...oh, the Finals dancers are way hotter and have more rhythm than they did in the Western Conference Finals. Everything's so much better now that we're in the Big Show, you know? And people here in Dallas are eating it up. It's kinda funny - I mean, I'm caught up in it too, but maybe because I'm a transplant, it's not quite as intense to me as it is to natives. Last night on the Channel 8 news, the anchors were camped out in front of the arena as the game ended, doing their regular news reporting. Not just the sports guy - the actual NEWS anchors were out there. As we all know, they're behind a desk for a reason, and that reason is that they don't always look reall good from the waist down - and such was the case last night. The guy was so pear shaped, I saw three people with peelers and fruit salad cups behind him, just waitin' for him to bend over. And the woman was wearing sandals...and shouldn't've been. Busted feet need not been seen on the telly. Ever. But really, the most usual thing was them reading the day's news, somber as it is, in front of 5000 yelling screaming happy-ass Mavs fans as they exited the arena. Do you know how hard it is to hear about fatal traffic accidents and shootings while people are celebrating just behind the grim-faced people shouting it, struggling to be heard over that din? It's absurd. But you know what? The Mavs won, beating the Heat 90-80 in a game that featured Shaq committing at least two witnessed cases of assault and battery on Dirk and Jerry Stackhouse, causing Stack to require 3 stitches on his already-big nose. It's all good. Game 2 on Sunday. Oh yeah. You're probably wondering why, after a glorious Dallas victory, I'm mad on a Friday. I mean, it's Friday, my band has a gig tomorrow night (Tomcats, Commerce St. Dallas, 9pm. Be there. ), my fam's back in town, and I'm off today. What's to be mad about? I'll tell you. I thought we were cool. I thought we were friends. But when it came time to pick guest posters for when she goes to Vegas or Kalamazoo or wherever she's traipsing off to, Laurie elected to skip right over my black ass. Oh, she picked a motley crew of suitable folks, I'm sure. But just because I dared to (gasp!) disagree with her, she decided I wasn't worthy. Well, please, allow me to STEAL some shit from her, to show my disapproval of this course of action: *****BEGIN LAURIE MOCKING SECTION***** Tear, drip, SPLASH! I'm all "butt-hurt". HOLLA! Fuckety-fuck-fuck-fuck! Beauty tips: french pedi + hammer toes = no sandal summers. Shank you very much! Ordinarily, I wouldn't let something like this get to me, since I consider myself ABOVE this kind of NONSENSE, but this has seriously CHAPPED my HIDE, since basically I was the one who got her STARTED on her blog and all, 'cause before that she was just a chick with a loud MOUTH that no one was HEARING, since she didn't exactly have an AUDIENCE out there in the land of no rain, but you know, I'll be fine, 'cause I'm gonna drink a case of Keystone Light and take some Secret Squirrel pics of dranken people like me, and maybe post the pic on MY blog with some unreadable chicken scratch all over it like three schizophrenic turkeys got high on dry erase marker fumes and decided to try to write "War and Peace" freehand. (run-on sentence, of course. Laurie hates punctuation.) Seriously. This sucks my asshole. So Lowry, if you even READ this, check it: go suck an egg. I don't wanna post on your stank blog anyway. I'm sure I'll have far better things to do, like...well, anything, really. But I do wanna ask: What up, yo? *****END LAURIE MOCKING SECTION***** I got half a mind to blow your blog up while you're gone, you know. See how you like that. I will have my revenge, and you'll RUE the DAY you skipped over ME. RUE! (It's kinda weird to say "Peace" after just telling someone they'll rue the day, so...Go! Bye!)


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