passion
this post is brought to you by black cherry cola and cheap vodka.
this song jams. it jams!
the NBA playoffs have begun.
I like the playoffs. especially the early going, when it’s a big, frenetic free-for-all. the first round is usually pretty luke-warm; it isn’t bad. there’ll be a few good games, a few shitty ones, but it usually comes up in the black.
the quarterfinal are kickass. these teams are the proven winners; almost all of these series go to six or seven games.
the semifinals are normally pretty entertaining.
and then, the finals, which inevitably suck. like last year. Cleveland lost four straight to the most boring team you’ll ever watch be awesome. Tim Duncan might be good for 20 and 10 a night minimum, but I’d rather watch paint dry than see him get those numbers.
the eastern conference has been pretty weak this year. but, Philadelphia – a team that was below .500 during the regular season – upset the Pistons in Detroit tonight. I didn’t watch the game, I was in the truck, but according to the AP story, the Pistons didn’t take the game as seriously as they should have. actually, it was funny enough to quote:
Sixers forward Reggie Evans smiled when told the Pistons were shooting the breeze with (former Piston) Flip Murray during breaks in the game.
“That’s good,” Evans said.
Rasheed Wallace took the blame for the loss — despite having 24 points, nine rebounds and matching a franchise playoff record with seven blocks — but didn’t think blowing a big lead had anything to do with talking to Murray.
“That’s my man,” Wallace explained.
Rasheed Wallace is my favorite NBA player. “that’s my man.” yes!
I’m looking for new work. that’s it, and now it’s official because it made the blog. I’m looking for work. I’ve applied at exactly three places, and for as much as I’d like to have a new job, they aren’t very easy to come by.
so I’ve been thinking about voice. (I am nodding toward you. and you may think I’m referring to someone else, but no, you’re right, it you; just go with your gut)
so do I, come across, fully, on the blog? is the blog a necessary suppliment to me? do you need to read it to read me?
well yeah, probably so. but that’s fucked up, to think that you might read this, and then meet me in person, and not get something different from the experience. discover a different personality. I hate the idea that I’m being disengenious through this experiment. but has the god damned blog taken on a pesonality of its own?
yes. I’m playing dumb. I know it has. there are probably readers of this who haven’t spoken to me in, what, in years. and there’s probably the handful that have never spoken to me. and they think this is who I am, this dumfuck website. I’m dudeokay. just some cynical dickhead with the emotional development of a twelve-year-old, taking months on end to work through his insecurities and his shortcomings.
but I’d like to think that I’m not the tenor, the chariacture that this blog has taken on. but I’m not going to lie, it’s not entirely untrue, this is more or less hand to mouth here. I am the dickhead. and I’m still hung up, and I’m at occasionally, I grow tired of apologizing for my gut feelings. no one’s asking for that apology, I know, but irregardless; to that faceless critic, you, who’s following the ebbs and tides of this journal, well, fuck you. I’m working through it on my own time.
