Do You Like Pina Coladas?
Okay, I was just at the gym with my mom and saw they had a Pina Colada smoothie. So I started singing that song to my mom and when I got in the car, it was playing. The universe is synchronized. In this case, I don’t know if it’s a good thing!
So I’m up in the bay area. Came here for the Warriors/Jazz game last night and the Warriors/Clippers game tonight. If ya’ll miss me and want to see me on TV, check out the Clippers game, every time they show the Warriors bench. Our seats are right behind the Warriors bench. First seats, first row. If you see an older Chinese man with a round face and glasses and his arms crossed and looking really serious like he’s part of the coaching staff, look for me right next to him. That’s my dad.
Last night was my first game this season. First game watching Derek Fisher live. When he first got into the game, they called a timeout, so he was standing about 4 feet in front of me in the huddle. That man has GUNS. His arms…are gorgeous. Perfectly chiseled. Oh my God. I have an arms fetish, as exhibited by the period of my life between 10-13 years old when all I would compulsively sculpt was ripped, chiseled arms from shoulders to hands, usually posed in full-flexed glory while arm wrestling (don’t ask…I don’t know either). Anyway, I kept staring at his arms in awe. And then I would notice him noticing so I would look away, and when he looked back down I would stare again. And then he would catch me again and I would look away, and then I would stare again. I felt terrible. But it couldn’t be helped. Damn this Scorpio influence. Revving up my primitive drives. All I want to do these days is objectify men.
The thing I was pissed about last night was that Troy Murphy made an awesome move under the basket to get around Boozer (who’s a monster) and failed to finish with an easy bank-in. Then the crowd booed him. What the fuck, people? This poor kid missed all but 28 games last season, worked his ass off to get back in shape and we booed him. This is why no one likes to play for Golden State. I’ve watched Murph play for years and the guy works hard. He’s probably harder on himself than anyone else. You’ve got these talented players who are lazy and don’t give a fuck. And then you’ve got the guys who work their asses off and become great through sheer willpower and heart. Murph is one of the latter. And then he gets booed by his home crowd when he’s struggling and most needs support. I was pissed. His struggles are psychological. He wants it too badly. He just has to relax and get into his rhythm. And not have his own crowd booing him.
On a different subject, our whole family was in the car last night coming back from the game, and my mom suddenly says, “Your dad wanted me to tell you not to go to clubs by yourself anymore.” I asked her, “When do I go to clubs by myself?” She said, “In Vegas.” So even though my dad was in the car with me, he had my mom pretty much tell me, “Your dad thinks you’re slutty.” And my mom thinks I’m a virgin. They need to combine their two views and find the middle ground because despite my extreme contradictory Gemini projections, that’s about where I sit.
That’s all for now. I woke up this morning and found that Michael had placed a tiny teddy bear (about 4 inches long) by my head to keep me company while I slept. He is the sweetest person in the world.
Have a great weekend, guys!