Suck it Losers (Part Four)

What fucking backwards universe have I stumbled into?? Did I cross-dimensional travel through space and time into a world where the Minnesota Timberwolves are suddenly a hot commodity?

Don’t get wrong, I totally understand. Ever since the Butler signing Timberwolves stock has been through the goddamn roof. The fact that elite players are suggesting Minnesota as a desired trade destination has left me floored with a very satisfying erection. This is everything I have ever wanted since I was eight years old and saw my first Wolves game.

The big news that damn near collapsed the sports world yesterday was the talk of Kyrie Irving requesting a trade from Cleveland (If I had to be around Lebron that much I would’ve wanted to leave much sooner). Irving listed Minnesota as a potential landing spot?! This is amazing that such a young talented player would ever want to live in a frozen tundra hellhole just to play ball I respect it immensely (it almost makes up for the fact he thinks the Earth is flat).

Now, with all that being said, yes it’s cool, but I swear to God if Minnesota corporate offices realistically pursue this trade I will riot in the streets. Here’s why, we already have the sickest starting five I could ever want, pursuing Kyrie is greedy, unnecessary, and is going to cost you sooooooo much. DO NOT DO IT. Please for the love of God and MN basketball DO NOT PURSUE THIS OPTION.

It’s like being at a party with your significant other and some girl tries to fuck you, thank you so much for the offer, but I’m happily married. Now move along slut. Go to San Antonio Kyrie. Play for the greatest coach in NBA history. Pop will make you a legend.

Suck it Losers (Part Three)

It’s time for America’s new favorite web saga revolving around the exciting world of NBA controversy. This week, whatever the fuck I feel like rambling about before the cocktail of pills and alcohol kicks in and I collapse over my keyboard.

First and foremost, the soon to be NBA champion Minnesota Timberwolves just signed Jamal Crawford and I am about to cry because Minnesota professional basketball has never made me so happy. I feel like a woman whose boyfriend has made a super romantic proposal. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and my life is great, but enough about that because there’s so much basketball chicanery that requires discussion and my levels of consciousness are fleeting by the second.

Gordon Hayward is shipping out to Boston as it were, and I wouldn’t normally give half a fuck, but Boston is now forced to make cap space by pawning 3/5 of the starting five that made them THE NUMBER ONE SEED IN THE EAST.

This shit is ridiculous, you’re giving away the talented majority of your players just so you can have a pretty okay white kid on your team. This is bullshit.

Think about this, in 2015, the Atlanta Hawks were also the number one seed and currently, NOT ONE OF THOSE PLAYERS IS ON THE HAWKS. What fucking universe is this? Is this real life? This is the same path the Celtics are on because they’re cleaning house to accommodate Brad Stevens’ weird white boy crush.

The world has gone insane and this season is going to be a Goddamn shit show. For the first time since 2004, it’s good to be a Timberwolves fan.

Suck it Losers (Part Two)

Back to back releases I’m like the mother fucking Hobbit movies! We back at it like Yung Lean. Let’s get it!

If you live in Indiana I am officially issuing a call to action. I don’t care about your lame state, but your basketball team hates you and if you even remotely care about the Pacers you should be marching on the street in protest about how carelessly your team is being handled.

SIDE NOTE: If you’re a Pacers fan PLEASE PLEASE comment I truly want to know your opinions on how the Pacers office is handling the team right now.

How on God’s Earth did the Pacers frivolously give up their best player? I criticized the Bulls last week for giving up Jimmy Butler to he soon to be NBA champion Timberwolves but that trade makes infinitely more sens than the asinine bullshit the Pacers gave up for Paul George.

I made the joke the Wolves got Butler for a bunch of garbage, but the Thunder got Paul George FOR NOTHING. NOT A GODDAMN THING. It’s like walking  into a store and the cashier says:

“Just fucking take it bro, I don’t care.”

If you’re into fantasy basketball, take PG13 first round I promise he’ll take you to the finals.

People of Indiana, please do not take this atrocity lying down, you’re all better than this and you do not deserve to live through the abysmal years of basketball that are about to follow. Trust me, I’m a Timberwolves fan. It’s a hard life I would never wish upon anyone EVER.

Suck it Losers (Part One)

Holy fucking dick whistles! Just when I thought this NBA off-season couldn’t get any goddamn crazier Adam Silver showed up to my doorstep and slapped me in the face with his massive basketball loving dick.

I’m saying it again, THE TIMBERWOLVES ARE GOING TO THE PLAYOFFS!!!!!

They have had the most productive off-season in their history. Their lineup is now better than when they had Spreewell and the “human hairless cat” Sam Cassell.

As a longtime critic and religiously abused girlfriend of the Timberwolves (metaphorically, I’m a dude that has described my love for shitty Minnesota basketball as an abusive relationship) this is everything I have ever wanted and prayed for every night before I went to bed.

Like a child, I would pray on bended knee that one day the Timberwolves wouldn’t suck miles of cock and they don’t (despite never having played a single game). SWEEPING DECLARATION: Timberwolves are going back to the western conference finals within three years.

I’m basketball Nostradamus.

I’m torn, I don’t know if I want to make this one very long article, or stretch it our into various renditions. FUCK IT, multiple renditions! Adding “Part One” to the Title.

Tired Yet? Good! Deal With it.

You like basketball? No?! Well too bad! I’m going to talk about it some more because I can. And if you don’t live in Minnesota or follow basketball, this article will mean nothing to you so feel free to skip it, but as the title says: DEAL WITH IT!

In the greatest trade deal in the history of the NBA, the Timberwolves acquired Jimmy Butler from the Chicago Bulls. I am very happy about this. This is the most self destructive idiotic move I have ever seen in my life. I cannot believe the Bulls would EVER agree to this deal.

“Hey, can we get your best player?”

“Sure, what do you have?”

“We have a big pile of garbage.”

“DEAL!”

The bulls are idiots and I weep for all their fans. HOWEVER, suck it Chicago the Timberwolves are about to become Western conference contenders and I could not be happier.

Thank you Chicago Bulls, for being run by a bunch of incompetent morons. You have changed the face of Minnesota basketball.

Tomorrow’s Trash Day

Being an adult is pretty legit, but there are many times I miss being a teenager again. High school wasn’t great like some teen movie but it was certainly some of the most fun and reckless times I ever had. Like drinking UV Blue and smoking menthol cigarettes thinking my friends and I were cool. Being a teenager is a fleeting part of growing up that we always take for granted. For example, I am a happily married man with a great job, but there are some things from my youth I will never forget, like the first time I had sex in my car.

Do you remember your first serious relationship? I certainly do. Her and I were both virgins so we made it our goal in life to try as many sexual things as humanly possible, and of course, I thought I was amazing (only to find out later in life, I was very average if not borderline garbage).  My girlfriend at the time and I wanted to try something new, so we landed on car sex. I drove a Buick Le Sabre that had a massive backseat so we assumed it would be perfect.

We grew up in a relatively small town so we went for a drive one evening only to find out that, unlike every movie and television show, there wasn’t some magical hill overlooking our town where teenagers would go to fuck. So we drove around for at least half an hour trying to find a decent place to fornicate in my back seat like a couple of animals; we found nothing. Hollywood had lied to us once again. I pulled into a gas station parking lot and said:

“Wanna just do it in my parents driveway?” I was the truest of gentlemen. As the words left my mouth I immediately anticipated failure. We had been driving around forever trying to find a semi-hidden public place to copulate and came up empty. But fellas, sometimes the universe takes sympathy on you, I will never forget the next words out of her mouth:

“Sure, that could work.” And boy howdy did it ever work.

My parents have a long driveway and, keep in mind, this was two in the morning so there was no way they were ever going to see this; I hope not anyway. The second I park the car we clumsily roll into the backseat and begin to make the sweetest most elbowy coitus of our teenage lives. It was like something out of a very awkward movie.

After we finish, both flush and exhausted from our extreme passion, I throw the car door open, still completely naked mind you, and place my hands on my knees to catch my breath. My tired penis swinging like a grandfather clock pendulum as I watch my breath dissolve in the night air. I rip off my condom and throw it in the trash can.

“What are you doing?!” She screams.

“What? Tomorrow’s trash day.”

Gains

Intro: Unfortunately, this story is very real. This is an actual conversation I had with my brother, remembered to the best of my recollection, and I still feel bad about it to this day. I’m a part time boxing instructor so fitness has always been important to me, especially when it concerns my family.

“You haven’t lost a single pound?” The question stupidly rolls through my lips despite my full knowledge of the answer that is soon to follow.

“Well no, but they say muscle weighs more than fat,” The moronic look on my brother’s face implies he truly believes the spectacular level of idiocy he’s preaching.

“True, but how much do you weigh currently?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Bullshit, you know, but you don’t want t tell me because you think I’m going to judge you.”

“Will you?” He asks without looking at me.

“Will I what?”

“Judge me. Will you judge me when I tell how much I weigh?”

“Probably yes, but if it helps you’ll have no idea, it’ll be silent judgment. I won’t tell anyone I’m just curious.”

“480.”

“480?”

“Yeah, 480 that’s my weight.” I try to stifle my obvious surprise at such a shockingly large number.

“There’s worse,” I say trying to hide my high level disgust that my own brother could allow himself to be so fucking vile. “Shit man, that’s not even a TV special there’s plenty of people bigger than you,” while this statement is true I don’t believe it in the slightest.  

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“How often are you going to the gym?” I ask.

“About five times.”

“Five times a week?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck man that’s more than me, what are you eating? You should be dropping weight like crazy if you’re working out that much.”

“I think it’s my thyroid,” My brother says obviously trying to change the subject.

“Shut the fuck up, it’s not your thyroid. What are you eating,” my voice gets increasingly more aggressive.

“Weight gain is a side effect of this new medication I’m on.”

“Is your new medication made out of ice cream?” I’m intentionally being mean at this point.

“I’m really trying my best.”

“What are you eating? What did you have for breakfast today?” I ask knowing I’m not going to like the answer.

“I had a whole wheat bagel,” he says this as if he’s proud of himself.

“Awesome, that’s a solid breakfast. What else did you have?”

“What do you mean?”

“What else did you have for breakfast? What did you put on that bagel?”

“I put peanut butter on the bagel.”

“Okay.”

“And a little bit of honey.”

“Okay, what else?”

“I made three eggs and some bacon.”

“Okay, egg whites?”

“No whole eggs.”

“Okay, what else?”

“I had a banana.”

“Well that’s good.”

“Yeah!” He sounds so proud it’s stupid. “But I also had a bowl of cereal and two donuts.”

“Okay,” I take a moment to gather my thoughts. I’m going to have to handle this situation tactfully.

“You indicated in your food log that you had a whole wheat bagel for breakfast?”

“Yeah, I did have a bagel.”

“But what about the other stuff?”

“What other stuff?”

“The grocery list you just mentioned.”

“Oh that stuff?”

“Yeah, that stuff.”

“Well,” I can tell my brother is trying concoct some sort of fat person excuse, “I guess I didn’t think about it.”

“You didn’t think about it? Not at any point while you were consuming nearly a day’s worth of calories?”

“It’s not that much.”

“It’s quite a bit.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Well, let’s find out,” I slide my chair back and go into the living room.

“Where are you going?” my brother asks.

“I’m getting a notepad and a calculator.” I return to my seat with both items and I begin making notes on a blank page.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m rewriting your food log for yesterday. So you started with a bagel, how many calories were in the bagel?”

“About 300 I think?”

“Fair enough, and you put honey and peanut butter on the bagel correct?”

“Yes.”

“So let’s say another 200 calories, give or take.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“Do you want to fact check my math?”

“No,” my brother’s eyes drop to the floor.

“After that you had three eggs and bacon, so let’s say another 350, sound fair?”

“I have no idea.”

“We’ll say 350, and you capped that off with a bowl of cereal and two donuts, which to be perfectly honest, I have no idea how many calories to say, let’s put down another 500.”

“We really don’t have to do this.”

“You’re goddamn right we do,” I take a moment to add all the numbers together. ‘We’re looking at about 1350 calories for breakfast.” My brother says nothing and I’m starting to feel like an asshole.

“I suppose it could be worse, but you need to get ahold of this shit man. You’re 32 and you’re going to fucking die soon.” My brother starts to cry and I officially feel like an asshole. I never know how to react when people are upset, so I leave and go for a walk. I never said I was a good person.