Basketball Diaries

Ever since my complete and utter obsession with studying the stock market, I've had little time in my life for what I deem non-essential activities like going to the gym or showering. As a result, my hairy ass has ballooned to 500 pounds and I haven't stroked a jump shot since the new year. So, last Friday, when Sterg called to invite me to play in a basketball tournament, that weekend, with him, Jimmy T and Mally, I was both excited and a little nervous. I was excited because I got an unexpected opportunity to see my friends again, and I was nervous because I would hate to perform poorly and finally have to admit to myself my once abundant athletic abilities are now fading and being erased with each bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken I eat.

Sterg's phone call brought back a ton of good memories when the 4 of us use to play in 3 on 3 tournaments quite frequently.

Jimmy T ran the point. Jimmy was a 5'5 chinese guy who couldn't shoot to save his life, but he had these motherfucking calves like watermellons and if he ever caught you under the basket, you were getting dunked on, punk... and it would be nasty. Jimmy T could put you on a poster however you wanted. You felt like seeing a leaner? No problem. Here you go - PLAAOW - how you like me now?

You wanted a tomahawk? Watch me'na. Ka-BOOM. In yo' mouf. I've even seen Jimmy T hit a 360 with power on a 9 and a half foot rim. Un-fuckin-believable. Anyway, when Jimmy would throw one down on top of his defender's head in a game, the crowd would go nuts. You could see the hootchie mamas already start to line up from the neighbouring courts hoping to seduce our point guard and, through any means necessary, procure his ejaculate in a plastic zip-lock bag they could keep in a freezer, in order to later impregnate themselves in case Jimmy ever came into money.

You know, if he wanted to, Jimmy T, right after one of his game-time dunks, could've stood underneath the destroyed basket and rightfully have requested a blowjob from either me, Sterg or Mally. And to tell you the truth, after watching him dunk, the only appropriate answer would've been "do you want us to suck your balls, as well, Jimmy?"