"You are a bad boy. Yes you are!"I am not sure if this is the appropriate way to do this. I'm sorry you had to find out like this, I really am. I know you may be disappointed to hear this after all of these years brah, but I'm 24 years old and I think now is the right time for you to know. I'm sick of hiding from everyone. I'm sick of changing the channel when someone walks in the room. I'm sick of waiting for the 3 a.m. replays. I'm sick of DVR-ing Chuck, Jet, and Ernie and then deleting it before anyone sees it on the "My Recordings" list. I'm sick of having to go to girls houses because you would rather watch old Family Fued episodes. When you are around, I'm scared to even move over to the secondary / NES TV with my closet love. And now that Choose Your Own Adventure or Lost or whatever that stupid show is, comes on Thursday nights at the same time, I will no longer be home for Thursday Family Night at the Ivy's.
I love the NBA! There, I said it. What? You got an effin' problem? I don't care. I'll move to Massachusetts, where my love is legal, if I have to. How do you feel about that? You don't know what it feels like to have to constantly carry this weight...this burden on my shoulders, constantly looking over my back, checking to make sure no one is around. I'm sick of having to put on fake clothes when I leave the house and having to wait until I get to top of the driveway to change into my Ron Artest jersey .
You should have seen this coming. All of the telltale signs were there. You should have been suspicious when the first thing that I ever bought with my own money was a pair of Jordan VII's. You should have known when I went to college and straight wore out my pair of murdered-out Iverson I3's. You should have noticed the stains on our old Jordan posters. You should have been curious when you saw my sick crossover / fake jumper - get the defender in the air, unstoppable dribble-drive blow by move to the rack. Bucket! You should have been alarmed when you found my secret stash of old 1994 Finals VHS recordings. But you were stubborn. You didn't want to believe it was true.
You don't have to agree with my lifestyle, just understand that I am different than you. You like game shows and fantasy worlds of magic. You like fat girls and Mean Girls. You like the OC and old Britney songs. You like Dragon / Skull & Cross-bones shirts and bands that wear makeup and eye-liner. You're a goal-scorer, a location / movement pitcher. You're finesse. You're Kovalev, JT, and Corey Webster. I get it! But I'm RAW, son - Power-I!
I like dirrrrtyy, dirrrrtyy girls and Skynrd. I like a good skip pass and lockdown defenders. I like Starks, Mason, and Oak. I like Von Wafer, Jarvis Hayes, and old Survivor Series DVD's. I like Molly Hatchet and Chris Paul. I like a good, solid backdoor cut and high ball screens. I like 'Sheed and Jeff McInnis. I like Ghostface and Chef Raekwon. I like blood and I don't mind a facial. I like old X-tina videos, Ed Reed, and homeless people. So just get over it and accept me for who I am, brah. Or else I might have to pull out my Beretta...
"Searchin for my car keys tryin' to get on up out the door...Shit, Shit, Shit, Think, Shit, Quick put me in the closet. And now I'm in this darkened closet tryin' to figgerr out just how I'm gonna get my crazy ass up out this house...I cooked and ran your bath waaatttterrrrr..."
No comments:
Post a Comment