A lot of you have been talking a lot of garbage on me after I got eviscerated by Blake Griffin last night in the paint (Editor’s note: here’s the dunk for those of you who missed it). And let me just say that it’s pretty darn unfair that you’re all being so mean!
Like seriously, are you guys serious? Have you ever seen Blake Griffin? He’s a red-headed, dunking monkey-man. I’m serious when I say I don’t think he should be allowed to play in the league. I’m just minding my own business down low, thinking about how the spelling of my name is the best (like, get out of here with that Ch nonsense), when I catch a glimpse of one of the dumbest OU graduates ever running towards me. Next thing I know, his crotch is in my face and the entire arena is going nuts. I blacked out for like 32 seconds. Like 32 seconds of my life are just gone. I don’t know even know what happened.
Then DeAndre Jordan is all like “what” and makes a weird face as he walks away, like this is some sort of game! Like this is some sort of thing between Blake and his “homies” or whatever those people call each other. That’s just rude. I don’t make faces at people. Because I know…that they have feelings too.
Then I look at the monitor and see the replay. And think “damn, that home boy just got posterized” Then I realize that “home boy” is ME! How is that possible? Blake was at the bench. I outweight that guy by a buck 20, easy.
And it wasn’t even a dunk! His hand didn’t touch the rim! Do I need to carry a dictionary around with me on the court so I can show people the definition of “dunk”?
I get it. He ate my lunch. Like, ruined my life. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out he somehow sold my car too. But it wasn’t a REAL dunk.
Then, I’m about to watch some HGTV in the hotel room when my mom texts me to tell me that the announcer was bringing up Kim Kardashian.
Do you know how hard it is being me? Being in those crappy Footlocker commercials, that everyone thinks I agreed to. I didn’t! They told me I was gonna look cool. And then they were mean. I hate Footlocker, even if they do have the dopest deals on all the new shoes and team gear.
I’m on the Celtics. THE CELTICS! We’re awful. And Boston is terrible. Do you know how mean Boston people are? And then, during basketball, which is my only reprieve, I get thrown down on so hard that I peed a little, and you’re going to bring up one of the worst marriages in the history of humanity? You’re all cold!
I learned my lesson. I swear, the next time I see that pig-nosed man-child come barreling down the lane, I’m gonna check myself out of the game. I don’t even care. Fine me, yell at me. I can’t handle that again. The team doctors say that if I ever get posterized that hard again, my heart is going to stop. And I believe it; my grandpa died being posterized.
I miss you pawpaw.