Friday, December 05, 2003

Yesterday, your boy copped a turkey sammich at a deli. When I got to the register I noticed that said deli also sold male genital densensitizer. And I thought, "this is what Mo Cheeks must feel like." Just a guy trying to buy a turkey sammich, not get his cock froze. Namean?
Chauncey Billups Portland correspondent, Julianne "Rose Gardener" Shepherd checks in with a farewell verse to the beloved and be-headbanded Bonzi Wells:

Philly 1976: Lead us to the light.
Portland 2003: #1
--In unemployment! Right.
Blazers: lead us to inferno.
Stoked-afarian, herbal, blazing from, like, a 99-lb can of Sterno.
Of course our team self-meds.
¡Hola! Ever tried Northwest strawberry redhead?
It's just the Portland way; we're depressed,
347 days of rain, food stamps stressed
from buying Genesis juice,
too much overpriced organic produce.
But we're gully; we'll battle anybody.
Fans in the stands talking shit?
Find post-game on the Gresham-bound Max train, foam fingers slit.
That's what you get
when you love conditionally.
We are family
straight latchkey, sans Bonzi.
The fuck is John Nash? The fuck is Wesley Person?
(Stats: twelve point two, or eleven point one?
Count Cheeks, what's the number, son?
Try 'one Dunleavy, two Dunleavy, hot cross buns')
That's kid shit. Wait, who the fuck is Wesley Person?
Oh, here we go: ten years on the bench.
And Bonz gets traded just for cursing?
At some wack-ass, no-game-having fan without allegiance?
For this, you want the co-captain should kneel in benevolence?
Sheed wears Bonzi's sweatbands like it was Armistice Day
Anger management: this team is only half minus Wells' DNA
If John Nash keeps blazing trails
Portland MVP '05: Charles, Prince of Wales.


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