There’s nothing quite like an athlete’s mom to get the blog fires a-burning. Remember when rumors were running rampant that Delonte West had slept with LeBron James’ mother last summer? That was pretty awesome, right? Well this won’t be quite as good as that, but it’s still funny. Or gross. Depends on your mood.
Sometimes the best way to make a point is to add colorful shapes and numbers. Below are a handful of arguments that should be considered settled from now on.
In July, Cavaliers fans burned their LeBron-related apparel. And it was silly. Then Clevelanders gained their composure and decided to give the jerseys to charity. And it was good. Then they decided it ought to be Miami’s homeless that received the rejected jerseys. And it was still good, but also funny. Then Miami rejected the jerseys. And we’re back to silly.
I thought about musician John Mayer all weekend. I really did. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. I was as helpless from trying to figure out why Mayer opts to be an idiot as I suppose Mayer is from making that stupid guitar solo face he makes. Yeah, that one.
How do you prefer your Band-Aid removed? With a quick, painful jerk that uproots body hair along with it? The kind that provides an agony that is much worse in the seconds leading up to the removal than the removal itself? Or do you prefer the cautious, calculated removal that distributes pain in measured doses for an elongated period of time? Because I assure you America, you’re gonna have to suffer through one.