Friday, February 1, 2008

Samson of Scottsdale




Oh Nash, ruler of all that is beautiful and fluid in the land of the NBA, why did you let your vanity bring ruin to the U.S. Airways Center? To let those weary, broken, losing-to-the-Sonics, evil-incarnate Spurs come in and steal one away from you. I hear your hairdresser's name is Delilah. Why must you visit her right before you face the team that everyone claims you are incapable of beating and shed yourself of those divine locks? The prophecy may be true. Its not that you couldn't stand the:

"Neck Napkin"


The "He-bob, She-bop"


The "Ape Drape"


The "Super Soaking Butt Cut Spectacular"



Or even the "Looking like I should be on 'I Love New York 3' Crusty Guido with Chest Hair all while doing the damn thing on the dance flo and getting low, low, low"


We love you in all your sleek styles. What we don't love is having to stay up wayyyy paste our bedtime last night to watch you and the new "Stevie the Kid" choke away a surefire win against the Spurs. The way you left those locks on your barber's floor (presumably right next to your jumpshot and defense) has forced me adhere to the old adage -- Drastic Times Call For Drastic Measures!! So, being a fan and a friend, I, Corn, have hereby signed you up for the Hair Club For Men. I have already ordered a scalp replacement, some extensions (in a nice chestnut brown) and have even over compensated by paying for one free mustache installment, a la 1985 Keith Hernandez. Just to be safe. You're not only the president, you are also a client!! Now start playing like a champion again and quite trying to cull a bigger gay fan base with the new boyish do, dude!!

 
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