Jesse James Owes Dennis Rodman An Apology

I've been terribly derelict here recently in commenting on the "news" of the day. The truth is, I don't follow the news super closely, on a day-to-day basis. I've always found the instant overreaction by the media to whatever is happening on a given day, to be fatuous -at best. But I do pick up bits and pieces of this and that, mainly through hearsay, hearsay and the ESPN bottom line (the single dumbest thing they've ever unleashed on the American public, that and keeping Dick Vitale around for 30 years). Most days I keep myself rapturously uninformed, or at least under-informed on what's happening (and rapturously is the right word, as I don't wanna know most of what I do know, if that makes sense, much less stuff which I blissfully don't know). Still, some things sneak through into my head, as desperately as I'd like them not to, and knowing those things, I do have reactions to them. Anyway, those reactions are some of what you've read on this blog the past 16 months. Blah, blah, blah...

I did see where The Tiger came out of hiding and gave 2 interviews a week or so back. And by interviews, I mean non-interviews, as The Tiger was not pressed for an answer to a single difficult question by these reporters. I don't totally fault the reporters, as they had been granted all of 5 minutes with His Holiness. And The Tiger stonewalled, sounded as robotic as ever, gave non-answers, etc...(someone is making a killing coaching him to sound like his golfing buddy, Barack Hussien Obama). I would have asked The Tiger if he has any advice for Jesse James (and giggled as he squirmed). And I also would have inquired if he missed the wild, Ambien-fueled, sex romps with porn stars and other assorted skanks. That's about it. Oh, and if he realizes the inevitably endless needling from his son's schoolmates that will come down the road (from schoolmates not unlike myself no doubt, sorry as I am to admit that).

One more golf note - it should be pointed out that since an anonymous commenter on this blog disparaged Ernie Els lack of recent success a month or so back, the guy has won the last 2 tournaments he's entered (big events too, Doral and Arnold Palmer's tourney). I think the right phrase for this is poetic justice. Or irony. Something though. Definitely something.

As for Jesse James, some of you might recall my ripping him last spring during the tediously unwatchable Celebrity Apprentice. There was something about the guy that struck me as creepy, at the very least, and a complete piece of shit, in the extreme. Well, the recent revelations about his dubiously executed, and yes, creepy affairs with big-busted, tattooed skanks, shows that once again, I have some insight into these types of things. I guessed right again. There is just something in the way he tries to look so bored of whatever is happening, in the way he goes to great lengths to appear unkempt when he's a multi-millionaire, in the hollow look of his beady eyes, that seemed shady to me. And phony. I don't know for sure. But poor Sandy Bullock, how she ever got charmed by that despicable liar is beyond me. Sandy probably has daddy issues. They almost all do...

Also, Jesse James should apologize to Dennis Rodman for being a complete hypocrite. But I bet he won't. Guys like that never do.

I also saw where some nuts in Michigan were rounded up and charged with "seditious conspiracy," as apparently they were planning some half-baked scheme to kill some law enforcement folks. And as far as these nuts go, if it's true that they were conspiring to kill law enforcement personnel, then go ahead and lock them up, give them a trial, etc...What I find interesting about the charges is the term "seditious" being used by the federal prosecutors in this case. The reason I find it interesting is because, you could argue, that sedition (defined as promoting insurrection against the established order) is exactly one of the tools used to break free from British tyranny back in the day. I'm not sure how many nutty groups like this one in Michigan are around the country. But as I've said before on this blog, it can't rally surprise anyone. Many people are pissed. Misguided, generally stupid, under-educated, and wacky - all true. But the pissed part, I can understand to a certain degree. Just remember what my man Tommy Jefferson said: "Every generation needs a new revolution." And: "Experience has shown, that even under the best forms of government, those entrusted with power, have in time, ...perverted into tyranny." He might be right. It wouldn't be the 1st time.

I'm sure something has been going on with Joe Biden as well. I just don't care.

I saw a warewolf drinking a pina coloda at Trader Vic's

His hair was perfect

Lies, Half Truths, & Gross Generalizations About Scorpions

Bob Dylan was being played on the "classic" rock station here earlier (Rainy Day Women, if anyone cares). And almost every time I hear Dylan on the radio, I am reminded of a brief exchange with an old roommate of mine, a guy named Weisner (someday I could write a super long post about living with that guy for 7 or 8 months). Weisner and I were watching David Letterman's 10th anniversary special one evening in early 1992. Dylan was the featured musical guest. Anyway, he played Like A Rolling Stone, if I recall correctly (and I usually do). Well, it was pretty inspired. I'm not a great fan of the guy, but the performance that night was almost moving, in a way (if I can be moved, it is generally by music, or a movie, or an animal). After Dylan finished, and Letterman went to commercial, Weisner said, "That sucked. I couldn't understand any of the words." I was sitting about 5 feet away or so from Weisner, in our awesomely terrible furnished apartment, and I had teared up a bit from the whole thing. And I said to Weisner this, and I'll always remember this - "Did you ever consider that not being able to understand the words was the point?"

I was looking at something by Martin Amis recently and it was pretty interesting (although just about everything the guy says is pretty interesting). Amis was talking about Astrology, and noted that the thing about astrology is that it is 100% false, except for the stuff about Scorpions (my chosen term there), is 100% true. Now, Amis is not a Scorpion, I don't believe (I believe he was born in August 1949, if memory serves). But as some of you are aware, I am indeed a Scorpion (late October birthday). Now, I've never given any credence at all to Astrology myself. It seems beyond silly, beyond pointless, something so stupid that I don't have the vocabulary to come up with a word for it. Well, as many of you can imagine, I have, from time to time, gotten into conversations with girls/women in bars about being a Scorpion. When I've reluctantly told them the true date of my birthday (something I don't suggest to any male Scorpions reading this blog {and I know Brandon is, because the kid was born on October 27th}), I tend to be immediately barraged with accusations, of a sort, as Scorpions get a bad wrap in Astrology. For the uninitiated, here are the accusations I've heard about myself, based on nothing but some desperate girl finding out the date of my birth - 1) Jealous - Nope, there's not a jealous bone in my body. 2) Obsessive - about what? Aren't we all obsessive about certain things? This seems to concern the human condition in general, as opposed to being particular to Scorpions. But, yes, I have obsessed in the past, about 4 girls in particular - but again, who hasn't? 3) Suspicious - On that one, I might be guilty, as I'm suspicious of everything everyone has ever said to me. It seems the prudent way to go through life - as Reagan said, "Trust, but verify." 4) Manipulative - I'll let those of you know me pretty well judge my skills of manipulation. On one hand, it seems like utter nonsense, as I rarely care enough about something to manipulate someone into doing something they don't want to. On the other hand, I do have a track record of occasionally, when the situation warrants, being able to talk anyone into almost anything. I can talk. 5) Unyielding - Guilty, at times. Guilty. But, I'm not sure how this is necessarily a bad trait. I should note that on the positive side, Scorpions are supposedly very loyal. And as many of you know, I am the most loyal friend you'll ever have. There is almost nothing I wouldn't do for a friend in any kind of situation/trouble. Overall, it looks like Scorpions get a pretty bad wrap as sketchy, hotheaded, dubiously intentioned, assholes. And I hope that doesn't describe me at all. I'm pretty sure it's way off.

I mentioned in my last post about the 40 something skanks driving me a little batty here lately (I am not remotely interested in any relationship right now, not at all, maybe, no probably, ever again...). Anyway, one of these big busted, blonde broads said this to me the other night, "What I like about you is that you can carry on an intelligent conversation." The only problems with her assertion are a) I've never attempted to carry on a "conversation" with her for one second, I'm guessing I'm simply the first guy to fight off her advances using polysyllabic words, and b) I've never uttered anything remotely "intelligent" during the 4 or 5 times I've run into her. In fact, I try very hard to sound as clueless, stupid, and misinformed as possible when being approached by these lonely, desperate women. Just the other night for example, I told some not too awful looking brunette that I thought Glenn Beck would make an excellent dictator. And this woman AGREED with me. Jesus! What the fuck???

The Grimsley Girl is very much in my thoughts, pretty much constantly. And she does bear a favorable resemblance to Warren Beatty's wife, so...

Now, I'm hiding in Honduras

I'm a desperate man

Send lawyers, guns, and money

The shit has hit the fan

More Pointless Angst

Most days are spent tediously waiting for something to happen. There are the things we all have to do, work, eat, sleep. And those generally aren't that thrilling, save for maybe the occasionally awesome Big Mac, seeing a co-worker cry, or some dream involving Heidi Klum. I digress...The rest of our time, our supposed leisure hours, most folks spend doing things they don't really like with people they can't really stand (generally a spouse, parents, siblings, even their own kids). Sitting around a TV viewing Lost, or something like Lost, that kind of time passer. Or even worse, reading a book. Or worse yet, talking about their day (It was okay - Fran did this, that, blah, blah, blah...). Of course many of you know I utterly reject all that silly conventionality. It's boring. I'm digressing something terrible (although, as Holden Caulfield notes, often digression is the most interesting part of a story). I was gonna say something about folks wasting their lives waiting for something interesting to happen, which now that I think about it, I have been writing about in a slightly tangential way. Whatever...What I was gonna say is that the world would be a much more interesting, and dare I say electric (and that stikes me as the right word - electric), thing to experience if folks didn't live the way I'm describing. The only problem is that if everyone goes out and lives the way I'm even slightly suggesting (everyone single, rampant binging on all types of vices, etc...) then society would probably, no definitely, be way worse for it. We can only tolerate so many folks who shove convention aside, and actually live every day like it might be their last. I guess I'm droning on mindlessly about nothing significant, again...Chasing windmills...

My problem has always been that I have this almost primordial (some kind of soupy thing anyway) urge to kick down doors that are already unlocked, or even slightly ajar. It's really not a good trait. It's problematic, to say the least.

Looks like I'm back to more pointless adolescent angst...

As far as I can tell, girls should not wear those tight, Lycra type, workout pants, if they've never used them to actually, you know, workout. It leaves too little to the imagination. In fact, it's kind of off putting to get a clear outline of a girl's vulva at 4 o'clock in the afternoon at Generic Bread. In any case, ...

Also, I don't know what it is lately about these 40-something skanks in Greensboro. But, I really wish they'd leave me alone, for just one night even. I'm being as rude and sarcastic as I can with them, believe me. I really am. It gets tiresome. Even for me.

I'm out

The Pig Faced Duke Fan Who Loves Glenn Beck

Not much time here today at all, but I did wanna alert everyone that we've got the big hoops tournament continuing tonight. And I've been super lax in getting any previews up the past couple weeks. As we look at tonight's lines, a couple things intrigue me. The totals in the late games, they should both go under. As far as the sides, I don't see much value with the dogs tonight (with maybe the exception of Cornell). I'd go ahead and take 'Cuse, and K State. As far as the WVA/U DUB game, if the fouls come like I think they should, the over should hit.

I ran into this Duke fan last night (she was wearing a Duke visor - maybe reminiscent of Steve Superior when he coached the Devils). This woman had a pig face. And a poor knowledge of hoops. Anyway, I got tired of even glancing in her direction very fast. But she kept talking about how much she admired Coach K - "I really think he's such a sterling role model." "I just have this profound admiration for his class and the class his players exude." That kind of thing (although the word exude may not have ever left her lips). And I was super nice. I didn't say anything to make her cry or storm out of the bar in a fit. Anyway, she proceeded to get hammered with a friend (I won't even get into how the friend annoyed me...) over the next couple hours. At some point I said something to Dave, the bartender, with some political undertone to it. And this pig faced, visor wearing Duke fan said, as she high-fived me, "Are you a conservative?" And I said, "Not exactly, but that kinda depends how you define conservative." And then, I'll be damned, this woman asks, "Do you watch Glenn Beck?" And I replied, "Not really, no. He's a buffoon." She said, "How can you claim to be conservative and not like Glenn Beck?" I said, "I never claimed to be conservative, you pig face, and if you wanna love Glenn Beck, go right ahead. Why do I have to agree with you? I mean, you admire Coach K, a phony if there ever was one. And this Glenn Beck guy, he's a performer, not a conservative. Jesus. Damn Duke fans." She didn't like any of that at all, especially the pig face comment. She was pretty sore at me. Dave seemed to soothe things over with her though - Dave's crazy for Glenn Beck. He hates Duke, but he's a big Glenn Beck fan. This whole Glenn Beck mania, it's almost as bad as the Barry mania was before everyone started to get sick of the guy - almost.

Going to finally see Crazy Heart here in a bit - gotta run.

Giving Marital Advice To A Jacoby

I noticed that after a year or more of trying, Barry and his minions finally got this socialized health care deal passed, even though a vast majority of folks don't want it. In fact, it seems, if you believe polling (a dicey proposition, I admit), that the more people found out about the thing, and the more they heard Barry push it down their throats, the less popular it became. And I've written enough over the past year about why I'm totally opposed to this silly catastrophe. But, as I've also said before, elections do have consequences. And the fact that Barry and his boys in the Democrat Party won the past 2 election cycles in such huge numbers means we are getting exactly what we deserve. I know there is buyer's remorse at this point and Barry is wildly unpopular. None of that means anything. Some of you will recall that in a post early last year I had a feeling that at some point Barry might turn all Emporer Palpatine on us, and I was prescient, yet again. I don't want to be too harsh on the guy, as I'm guessing he might actually believe that this mess that is going to be unleashed on the country is a good thing. But that doesn't change the fact that the guy is acting as a tyrant, just like George III, Abraham Lincoln, FDR, or even Louis the 16th. Alas America, when you vote for a tyrant, you get a tyrant...The whole thing depresses me. And as for the anemic and pitiful Republican Party, I'm glad Ronald Wilson Reagan is not around to witness your helpless ineptitude. The GOP should be ashamed of themselves. Ashamed.

I've noticed some comments on this blog that were left recently on some older posts. And as always, comment away. Totally cool with me. Even a Duke fan has been leaving comments. And it proves that there might be hope yet for Duke fans, as at least one of them does have a sense of humor (proven by being a regular reader of this blog). If this Duke fan commenter could just convince other Duke fans to quit being so damn holier than thou and to lighten up a little, the world would be a slightly better place. Also someone left a comment wondering where Amy Teske might have ended up (and the commenter is correct, I'm certain she is still very bright...). And I can't say for certain, but last I heard, she was married, living near St Louis, and working as some type of engineer. I'm sure she's fine. And I'm guessing her husband is a great guy -but slightly passive and submissive - just a hunch. Believe me, I know the girl pretty well; even though I haven't laid eyes on her in 20 years. I'm guessing I still know her better than anyone else alive. Okay, I'm getting slightly depressed again. That's 2 paragraphs in a row...

I was out at Wreck Room Patio one night last week with Andy, Ross, Beck, etc. - and some of my favorite people showed up - The Jacobys. And I always enjoy talking to any of the Jacobys. Anyway, there was an engaged girl Jacoby out, she is getting married later this year I think. I was slightly in the bag (shocking!) and asked her if the couple was having premarital relations. And the girl (I believe her name was Jen) informed that they were waiting til marriage before having sex. And this might have been a mistake on my part, but I got into a long conversation with the girl trying to convince her what a horrible mistake that was - a noble thought, but awful in reality. The basic gist of my argument was that if things aren't really clicking physically with your spouse, then the marriage will be a tense mess all the time, neither person will be happy, and the whole thing will end badly. Jen Jacoby didn't seem to agree with me. And I respect her opinion. And I hope this nice couple do not have problems connecting physically once married. I really do. But I stand by what I told her. Of course, at one point, Ross or Andy or somebody (I was pretty tanked as I mentioned) asked what right I had to give any advice about marriage at all. And that is a good point. I probably don't. Except I've seen marriages go really bad and I wouldn't want that for any Jacoby.

Also, the Lonely Russian Jacoby was out as well. And I don't remember anything I said to him (perhaps Mark or Luke could refresh me on that). But my foggy, inhibited by drinking for hours on end (did I mention I was hammered?), poor recollection is that he's as lonely as ever. The poor kid. It was good to see him though. I will say that the kid needs to shave. I mean it's one thing for me to walk around with a week's worth of stubble, but on the Lonely Russian Jacoby, it just makes him look homeless and scary to American babes.

Ross and I crashed in Geilfuss's basement last Thursday night. And when we woke up about 10 the next morning, we noticed a wet spot on the tile near the basement door. Well, after Ross took off (Andy had come by to scoop him and take him back out to Cecil Fielder County), Geilfuss asked me the possible origin of the mysterious wet spot on the tile. And I didn't have much of an idea. But I did say this, "Geilfuss, if you'll let me speculate for a moment, it could be vaginal juice from some skank you've had over here recently and the 2 of you couldn't wait to get to one of the couches before going at it." Geilfuss said "Could be, you make a point."

I was walking around the Food Slug earlier today (buying 40's and potted meat, obviously). This big gal asks me, "Do you ever hang out at that wing joint on Battleground?" I answered, "From time to time, yes." She said, "Me and my husband met you in there one night and you were screaming about how awful a Led Zeppelin song was that was playing on the sound system." I replied, "Seems about right."

Santayana, goodbye

Sir Bob Walks Into A Duckpin Bowling Alley

I had the great pleasure Sunday evening to be introduced to the wild world of Duckpin bowling. I had kind of heard of it before, but had never experienced the awesome sport. And by sport I mean non-sport, as no athletic prowess is involved whatsoever. For the uninitiated, Duckpin bowling is similar to regular bowling, as there is a lane, 10 pins, and the score is kept the same. But the pins are tinier and you get to throw 3 smaller balls instead of 2 bigger balls in a frame. Watching folks attempt to play this game is ridiculous, as every toss was of the ball was a complete crap shoot - all luck as far as I could discern. Andy and Tyson were there and kind enough to invite me to observe and drink (the place was BYOB - the only positive about the whole Duckpin experience). Now, Andy has athletic talent and the kid was terrible at the thing, gutter balls all over the place. As far as Tyson, the first bit I observed he was pretty inconsistent with his scores, but later, Tys was striking it pretty regularly when he got to a state of inebriation such that he had a hard time walking straight up to the line to heave his little balls at the little pins (by the way, evidently Tys was de-pantsed a few weeks before while tossing his small balls - I'm glad I wasn't there to witness it). I didn't try this "sport" myself. Instead I sat there, drinking Coors Light, mocking several of the female "bowlers," while trying to figure out which of the enormous, not too attractive chicks in the joint were sporting thongs. There was a guy at the lanes, a guy who is the best Duckpin bowler in the league, a guy in a McGahee jersey, a guy named Sir Bob (I never did quite get why he goes by Sir Bob, as I highly doubt he's been knighted by that fake old monarch over in England). And meeting Sir Bob was one of the great thrills of my life. 1st, he got way too into it when he "bowled," as he dropped to one knee on each throw of his tiny ball, and watched his tiny ball roll down the lane with an intensity on his face that could only be matched by that of a retarded kid ejaculating. When Sir Bob would make a strike he did this crotch grab type celebratory move where he crossed his wrists and shouted something that sounded like one of the sounds those Charismatic religious types make when they're overcome with the spirit and speak in tongues. And all that was entertaining to me - I loved it. But the best thing about Sir Bob had nothing to do with his Duckpin bowling prowess. The best thing about Sir Bob was that he was a paranoid, professional wrestling loving, freak. I talked with him for quite a while - obviously. We got in a conversation about Piper's Pit at one point and then Sir Bob went into a 3 minute diatribe about some wrestling faction where the action was supposedly not fake (NWA maybe??? - is that a thing???). I was really getting into it. Andy kept looking over to me and shaking his head, as he's seen me do this type of thing many times before. The type of thing where I mock someone for a long time and they never catch on - it's mean I know, but I gotta entertain myself somehow. Right? Anyway, at one point this show called Undercover Boss was on the TV near where we were sitting. And this is when Sir Bob did something I've NEVER seen in my life (and I've seen too much, way too much, believe me). He got super pissed at a reality show on a TV in a Duckpin bowling alley. Sir Bob got so angry at corporate honchos who screw the regular employees that he was going apoplectic - he was ranting, stomping around, cursing like a drunk Ross, and kept mentioning his utter hatred for the department store Macy's (turns out he works at one in Harford Mall in Bel Air). Sir Bob kept saying, "Those fuckers, those fucking fuckers, they don't give a shit for the working man." Well, I kept asking for more details about the origins of Sir Bob's irrational disdain for the management at Macy's. And to be honest, nothing Sir Bob said made any sense, at least to me. At one point, he finally calmed down for a moment and asked if I knew where he was coming from with his anti-management tirade. And I said to Sir Bob, in a moment of total condor and deep introspection, "Not exactly, no. But I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night."

I was standing around out at Patrick Bateman's last Thursday night. And I'll be damned but a trivia game broke out in the joint. Andy, Ross, Geilfuss, and I were playing on Nana's team. And thank god that the annoying old guy with the silver mustache was nowhere to be seen. At one point a question comes up about a Defensive Lineman born in 1973 who shares a name with an American patriot. And then a miracle happened. A fucking miracle. Geilfuss walks over to me and says, "Sam Adams?" Geilfuss was dead on there. And I wanted to give the kid credit for once, as I've mocked him endlessly on this blog for his awful suggestions to trivia questions over the years. So there you go Geilfuss - well done. We ended up winning the game, beating our arch-rivals, Getting The Crabs. They asked a tennis question at one point, and that's too easy. It was nice to see Nana, Mike, Linda, and the good Tom out. And it felt even better to help them win the game. I give most of the credit to Andy, he knows how to run a team better than anyone else (as I've said before on this blog, the kid is like Johnny Bench). As for me, I just stood there and came up with answers from time to time. I know a few things. My brain does work like an encyclopedia after all. How, I have no idea. It's baffling.

Also, and this is key, Mary was out for part of the trivia game. And it's always good to see Mary. She's a good kid.

Oh, it was also nice to see Keith, Gary, and the other guys on Getting The Crabs at trivia- they're not nearly as awful as I make them out to be on this blog. Just don't tell them I said that - it would ruin my reputation as the biggest asshole in the history of the pointless trivia circuit. But really, they're pretty good guys. Our sworn enemies, but nonetheless...

I was sitting at Get Bent Lounge Saturday night, and you guessed it, J showed up. He started in with the bracket talk of course, looking for betting tips as always. This was just before 8 and I said, "J, I'm gonna give you a free tip, when in doubt, take the Mormons." And I was happy about that, as K State buried the Mormons in the end. Brandon liked K State and that insane Cuban coach they have, so we were on the right side there. The thing is, I doubt J bet any more than a shot with George on the game. Pitiful...

Earlier Saturday, I was out catching the hoops on Wreck Room Patio. And this old timer comes in with a buddy and he starts swearing worse than the old guy at Charred Pork Bucket, the guy who plays with Dave every Monday night, the old guy who says "Who gives a fuck?" every 10 seconds, my man Dick. Well I never caught this old timer's name, but he kept using the phrase Shit House over and over. Then he went on a rant about the disrespect he gets from his grandson and he used this phrase about 25 times in this 5 minute rant about his grandson - Shit Bird. I was thoroughly enjoying listening to this old timer. Then he started in on what an upset it was for St Mary's to have beaten Nova. And I was good, I held my tongue. But then he went on some thoughtless and misinformed diatribe about Kansas being unbeatable. And I said to the guy, "Don't be too shocked if Northern Iowa gives the Jayhawks a good game." And that set the old timer off. "What the fuck do you know, Iowa? Fucking Iowa? Fuck..." I said, "It's actually the Panthers of Northern Iowa, from the Missouri Valley." The old timer kept it up, "Fuck that. Do you believe this fucking kid?" Fuck..." I only wish that the old timer had been around when the Panthers took down KU. I would have enjoyed that immensely. I really would have. After the old timer took off, I asked his running buddy if this kind of cursing was normal for the old timer. He said, "Well, he's harmless. But, he is angry a lot of the time." I told the old timer's running buddy this - "Could you do me a favor and have him stop in the Charred Pork Bucket some night? And when he does, could you tell him to use the phrase Shit Bird a few times around Dick?" This guy asks "Why?" I replied "Well, it would be awesome. Because after about 5 minutes of using the term Shit Bird, Dick would tell your running buddy, 'Shut the fuck up. Who gives a fuck?,' that's why."

I've got more tales from the town Elaine Benes is from. I haven't even gotten to Andy's birthday Friday, St Patrick's Day, Ross drinking for 13 hours Thursday, The Jacoby who I gave marital advice to, Tyson getting kicked out of Low Bottoms for being dead drunk and walking around like a T Rex, or the mysterious wet spot on the tile in Geilfuss' basement.

Even better than the real thing

On Fire!

Note - the above picture is for my main man Curtis - the only real Baylor fan I've ever met in my life.

I got a text from Tyson earlier today, and he was interested in getting a little gambling advice. So, I can do that. I've been known to make a bet from time to time. Anyway, I sent him this back - take St Mary's, Washington, Murray State, and Baylor. And that was good advice, because they all covered like champions.

I got a ton of stories from the past few days, and I'm gonna get to them here soon.

More hoops coming here in a few minutes.I'm out - TBFH