Fight on the Front Line against Testicular Cancer...

I woke up friday morning, like any other morning. In an absolute rush to get ready for work. Apparently it's hard for me to become a functioning member of society before noon. So I take my shower, eat some grub and finish getting ready. As I was about to finish and head out the door, I realized I couldn't find socks. 'Shit, I guess I'll just grab the first two I find in my room'.  I wasn't paying much attention, because Jesse was talking to me about something not that important, but important enough to occupy the smart part of my brain.

So I run into my room to grab socks, and grab the first two solo socks I could find. Put them both on and start to walk back out to where my shoes on. Thats when I noticed  a peculiar wetness in the bottom of my left sock. 'Why the hell is this sock wet? Did I spill in my room?'

After recalling where I picked that sock up, I was forced into a cold realization of why my sock was wet. Jesse, who was very committed to telling his story stopped when he saw my face twist up in a look of panic.

"Dude, whats wrong?" He asked.

"Dude, this sock is wet." He looked at me confused. "It's been used." After a moment, he caught on what I was saying. Yes, my negligence in the morning hustle caused me to grab a sock that I had recently used for masturbational purposes.  Not awesome.

Kobe, How does MY ass taste?

Last night, the hated Lakers of Los Angeles came to town. They came strolling in with the leagues best record and with one alleged rapist (and confirmed sodomizer of blonde staff members in a hotel in Colorado). They think they're cool because they're fan base are full of oscar winners and they come equipped with two Europeans who look like they haven't bathed since the beginning of the season. Of course they also have Adam Morrison, the only man who grows a shittier mustache then me. Yes the Lake Show came to the Rose City, and promptly got their shit pushed in.

Oh and I had tickets too. Me, Weezie, Father of Weezie, and Brother Huck took a trip to the Garden to boo the purple and gold until lost our voices. It was spectacular. 

I mean you haven't experienced pure ecstasy until you talk shit to a group of people, and though they might be bigger then you, you know in your heart of hearts they aren't gonna do anything back to you because they are wearing enemy colors among thousands of rabid Blazer fans.

I watched a drunk Blazer fan talk dump trucks of belligerent trash to a group of big dudes wearing Laker jerseys. I also watched the talk get worse as the score increased in our favor. The Laker fans started off cocky, but as we got up by twenty (and ultimately 30) Drunk Blazer Fan got more and more confident. He was taking advantage of the situation. He knew that outside of the Garden, he would've been stomped out for saying half the stuff he did. But he looked around and saw a lot of matching Brandon Roy Jerseys.

Speaking of Brandon Roy, I love him. I know I've said it before, but that man is a winner.

Ok, some quick observations from the game:

• Brandon Roy is now in the conversation of NBA elite. The Hirearchy goes like this Lebron, Kobe, Wade, Howard, Paul, Roy, Williams. This is not debatable.
• If Portland ends up winning the division, get ready for the second round people. We aren't losing a playoff game in the Garden. Fact.
• Ariza is a punk ass bitch. Lets look at the Rudy hit real quick. Yes, you can make a case for the ball, but you can't deny that he went in too crazy for a guy on a team down by 30 at that point. He was going in there to make a hard foul, and ended up putting a crowd favorite on a stretcher.
• That being said, Ariza is lucky he didn't become the victim of some ski mask justice after the game.
• I love how after that play all the Blazers looked to get in somebody's ass. Before this season, I thought out side of The Killa Joel Pryzbilla we were soft. Not anymore. After Rudy went down Travis, LaMarcus, B-Roy and Joel got ready to throw bombs. I LOVE THIS FREAKING TEAM.
• My record in live attendance this year, 2-1. 

The point is people, it's almost playoff time. For the first time in five years my boys are poised to play in the post season. They have their faults: they don't win on the road as often as you would like. But you can't deny their explosiveness or their ability to bury good teams at home. Ask San Antonio how our ass's taste.

We might not be the best team in the league, or even in our division. But we're dangerous. And we proved that by throwing a hay maker at the talking heads favorite for the championship in May. So for one night, lets for get about the records. Lets forget about my teams weaknesses, or the Lakers team experience. It became irrelevant after we slapped them right in the face for the 7th straight game in the Garden.

Now, how does that taste Kobe?

Status Update

In case you were one of the five people who check this page over the last two weeks and wonder what the hell was up, I moved into a new place and it took me a minute to get internet hooked up.

That being said, I will begin to update regularly again.

So get ready bitches, here comes the pain.