Monday

The Pistons-Lakers series is going well for the Wallace boys and poorly for the stupid crappy Lakers. Kobe Bryant, erstwhile dominator of the backside, I mean backcourt, will have to step it up a little. Why? Rip Hamilton thoroughly embarassed his lazy ass. That funny-looking mask was the difference if you ask me. Of course he had his way with Kobe Bryant the way Kobe Bryant... nevermind, but let's take a closer look at the Lakers and the Pistons.

Piston Rip Hamilton looks like the f**ing phantom of the opera. The Lakers have got, and I quote (homo) Bob Costas, "movie-star handsome Rick Fox". Laker Kobe Bryant, perennial pretty boy, finds himself in the death grip of Piston "Big Ben" Wallace. Ben looks like a savage with that crazy haircut, an image he no doubt embraces. He's a monster. My favorite, Rasheed Wallace, always looks on the cusp of a nervous breakdown, living at the peak of his emotions. It's never a mystery how he feels. Totally emotionally naked, that guy. Refreshing, compared with the penitentiary-faced O'Neal and Karl Malone. Those bozos look like they EXPECT to win, and nobody likes that except with regards to the American military over everybody else, forever. Wait, it's not everybody that feels that way since we went to "war on terror". Anyway, this finals matchup is like Three dog night versus the Backstreet boys. The Pistons get by on talent. If you haven't watched any of this series, please tune in before it's too late, and enjoy the putrefaction of Gary Payton's self esteem! He's a turd, and if you can't watch him get hit by a bus, you can watch his eyes fill with mopey lugubrium as he moseys off court to his stupid awesome car and sweet condo somewhere awesome. Why can't he get hit by lightning or sucked into an earthquake or something? That guy sucks.

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