Jealous Ones Envy

Before we begin, a quote:

"I'm about to serve you in a minute/like rice on the table/'cause I'm able like Mabel/to skip, slip, dip, stagger/and still remain stable"

-- Ace, Masta, "Go Where I Send Thee"

(Which, in layman's terms, means the brief leave of absence is o-v-e-r. Any leftovers, Ma?)

***

It must be pretty sweet to be TMH right about now. Sweeter, I mean. Pretty soon, cat'll have two future -- knock on mahogany -- Hall of Famers playing within 3 hours of each other. The 2006/2007 NBA season and playoffs might've been a fetid sack of yak turd, but fuck it, I'm SO hype at the prospect of Pacific Northwestern b-ball dominance that I can forgive the Bill Simmons that was this year in professional hoops*. Now the area is gonna be known for harvesting another kind of dope. May your first children be masculine children, Luca Brasi style, PNW.

Sorry to sound like a flustered little girl, but gosh! how the hell did this happen? I won't look a gift horse in its grill, because with every fiber of my soul I wished all season long that the Memphis Fucking Grizzlies would get neither Oden nor Durant**, but the Blaze and The Emerald City? I'm making up a new word: justice.

Justice. I made that word up. From the era of a Dapper Dan texture. It's cool like a Lark super menthol. Domo.

(Aside: Can the NBA please restructure the L WWE Raw/Smackdown style, where competitive teams or players -- see: Pistons, Detroit; Wade, Dwyane; Mascot, Raptors -- from the Eastern Conference are called up to play with the big boys only if they can show and prove they can hang with the REAL league? This deserves its own post, actually, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Vince Carter would absolutely flourish in NBA Division 2 ball. If he weren't a female, I mean.)

To ease it up and bring it back, the obvious Portland pick is Oden, Durant for president -- Kevin Duckworth and Rashard Lewis weep. But let's suppose the reverse occurs. Still good, money. Still good.


And I can't help imagining Randle Patrick McMurphy smiling.

Somewhere, sometime, TMH is singing Na-na-na-na-na-Na-na-na-na-na-na-na.




The 2007 NBA Draft Lottery: Psychedelic Kimochi of the Year.

Plant the seeds and watch them grow.




It is true. The makings of you.



* But not, however, the inevitible snore fest of another Spurs/Pistons Finals. Please, God, anything but THAT.

** The Celtics not as much, because, as much as I disparage The Sports Guy, he definitely deserves basketball bliss; and I feel sorry as a Parker Brothers board game (or is it Milton Bradley? I need K-Hot to straighten me out***) for that worthy.

*** No double entendre.