Friday, October 12, 2007

It's My-ee-y-ee-y...Wish

We've all played the game. You're daydreaming and you think about what you would do if you were granted 3 wishes. Obviously, you would use one of them on a shitload of money. I mean, why wouldn't you? With money, you can buy your way out of trouble (OJ) or get cured of something that the general public can't (Magic Johnson). But you still have two more wishes. And that's why today I'm going to tell you what my other two requests would be. It's kind of like those old Sportscenter Make-A-Wish things except that I'm not terminal and I don't need to meet athletes.

I've been thinking about talking about this for awhile and since I'm struggling with Blogger's Block again today, here are my wishes.

1. Cash Money and lots of it.

2. I want to be able to dunk.
--I'm a 5'9" and change, out of shape white guy that can barely touch the net. There was an old rumor from high school gym class that one time I touched the rim (thanks Nathan R. Miller). Now I will neither confirm nor deny this rumor, but if it did happen, touching the rim isn't good enough. I want to throw down the rock. Bad. A few months ago, one of my fantasy drafts was held at a someone's house who had an adjustable height rim. It was awesome. Ol' Spiess and sometimes commenter, saul hudson, were throwing me alley-oops. Fantastic. I almost dunked my hands raw. It's a feeling that can't be duplicated. You know one thing that I've always hated? When your favorite hoops team's point guard rips a steal and has a breakaway at the other end and lays it in. It's so pussy-fied. You have to make the opponent feel it. You have to make it hurt. You have to get back the momentum. You slam that fucker home. Of course, when this wish of mine is granted, I'll be dropping some sick 360's and maybe even a 720. I know I've got it in me. Maybe even a "Rock The Cradle of Lindsay"? None of you know that inside joke, but if you did, you would shit yourself.

3. For one week, I want WWE announcer, Jim Ross, to narrate my life.
--Chances are, if you read blogs, you have some faint idea who Good 'Ol JR is. The lovable play-by-play man on Monday Night Raw that gets way too excited over meaningless, trivial things. I think that is what I need to take my own life to the next level. Here's what I'm hoping for out of this wish:

***"That drunken Ohio State fan just spilled beer on him. Business is about to pick up here!"
***"He's trying to squeeze into his sweatpants! It’s gonna be a slobberknocker!"
***"Good God Almighty, he's driving to work!!"
***"You knew it was a risk getting that Taco Bell at 2:30 last night, but my God look at the bathroom! Look at the carnage!"
***"I know G$ wanted to come to this S&M club, but he's getting whipped like a government mule!!"
***"It looks like after twelve hits of the snooze button, he's going to have to call off work today. It doesn't look like he's moving...wait a minute...HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT!"
***"He's jerking off for the 5th time today! That's your penis, for God's sake, you rotund demon!"
***"He's making a turkey sandwich for his lunch tomorrow...THE AUDACITY!!!"
***"Once again, he's cut himself shaving. He's donned the proverbial crimson mask."
***"Through Hellfire and Brimstone, HE'S LAYING ON THE COUCH!!!"
***"He just missed a ten foot putt in Golden Tee..."DAMMIT! DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!!!"

But I don't live in a perfect world and none of these things will likely happen. Sigh. That's depressing. Oh well. Have a good weekend.


saul hudson said...

Posted on yesterday's blog: Enjoy all of the fraternity sisters, you panty-waste. Go Falcons!

J Beanie said...

Having someone give a play-by-play of your life would be great. As good as JR would be, I'd take Gus Johnson. No one calls a better four-yard run or 12-foot jumper with more enthusisum than him.