PLEASE DO HALF OF THE WORK OF WRITING MY CONTENT VOL 1:

PLEASE DO HALF OF THE WORK OF WRITING MY CONTENT VOL 1: 

Hello! In case you didn’t know, writing is hard. You gotta come up with ideas, then come up with words to serve those ideas and honestly man it sucks. Sometimes, when you’re as famous as I am, you sidestep the first thing by having your readers send in questions you can answer. You do this because it’s easier than watching stuff and grinding out little flecks of stuff to extrapolate into paragraphs, but also because it fools the reader into thinking you care enough to consider their input. 

QUESTION ONE:

Probably gonna have to go with a Heat/Bucks game in October 2023. Between the next year of coronavirus prison and the 2021-22 NBA Lockout, we’re not gonna be seeing ANYTHING between now and then. Thankfully, it will allow her to develop healthier interests, such as video games and European Soccer. Don’t let her call it football though – she’s still an American, dammit. As to who will win, I’m gonna have to go with the Bucks, but Butler will score like 32 points and give a lengthy interview post-game about how everyone else on the team doesn’t respect the game, or themselves, like he does. Butler will keep on giving speeches like this until he is elected president in 2036. It just occurred to me that I will almost certainly be alive in 2036 and honestly I don’t care for the idea.

I don’t eat at the beach, frankly. Too unwieldy. It’s more of a frolic and play/bird photography zone for me. Here is one of my legendary beach birds snaps, thank you for asking: 

As to seasonal depression, totally real. Having lived with and around “Serotonin deficiencies” for most of my life, I know that when the sun goes away, its gets to being noon in bed real fucking quick. I am worried, Emily, my friend, that you are poo-pooing the lamp a little too readily, but I suppose I should ALSO mention a little vitamin called Vitamin D. You get it from the sun, and when he’s gone away for the winter, banging his secret island wife, you gotta pick up the slack and drop an eyedropper of that good shit down your throat. Even if this is just quack science, the act itself will make you feel proactive and get the gears of motivation going, hauling you out of the dumps and onto the stages of your wildest successes. 

You want me to say Michael Porter Jr., correct? Should I just give you the satisfaction? Might also go Dinwiddie here, not because he has any values, but because he is an amoral husk openly hunting for the next big score every waking moment, and some of those studios do wild-ass business, hard as it is to believe. Curry’s pray-away-the-drowning-death movie made $50 million! Don’t count out soundtrack opportunities for Damian Lillard and his patented rap music for people who hate swears.

I think it’s safe to say that we have discovered that Damian Lillard actually finds the fawning he is subjected to as a member of the Portland Trail Blazers a hindrance, and that if he was playing for a team where he was subjected to fewer people logging onto the internet to slander Nikola Jokic and Paul George in his name, he might actually be the most unstoppable player in the history of the league. It’s not a coincidence that the last time Portland was a serious title contender, the team was led by famous no-fuck-giver Rasheed Wallace and a Lithuanian center who received no affection in his formative professional years; just weird Soviet PEDs and cold borscht. Love less, win more, my Portland brothers.

As to who won’t have the juice in the permabubble future: gonna have to go with Steph Curry. I know there’s not a sample here, but he’s always doing that showboat shit pre-game. People pleasing spirit. Not built for REAL basketball IN THE BUBBLEDOME

Thank you for your question Sean. Hey, if you’re not busy this weekend, make sure you go see Sean at Rooster T. Feathers, where he is headlining. No masks for MAXIMUM LAUGHTER! Rooster T. Feathers: where Coronavirus Isn’t Real! (SK note: God I miss Rooster T’s, who are wonderful and responsible people who closed for the pandemic, and I wish I were famous enough to headline there.)

Answering this question depends on the kind of logic I decide to employ. I can, of course, go with who I believe is the best Super Smash Brothers player in the league. You would have to be a pretty serious gamer, but not SO serious that you’re inclined to be one of the freaks who exclusively plays games where you kill people while building cathedrals. Did you guys know that originally, Fortnite was a single player game, Minecraft/Shooter hybrid, but they couldn’t make the story work at all, so they just dumped the assets into a PUBG style battle royale, called it a day, then became absurdly wealthy as a result? Honestly kind of infuriating. All of my many failures are just fucking failures that stay fucking failures forever. Anyway I’m gonna have to go with Mo Harkless. He seems like he’s a 2D Platformer Fighting Game type of guy.

But if you’re trying to win ANYTHING against Death, the ultimate competitor, undefeated in many billions of matches, you’re not gonna pick a guy for his mere skills. You’re gonna want a fucking attitude, a stoutness of mental and spiritual character that will stand up to the withering black sun of the ony god that matters. Were it several years ago Andre Miller would be the obvious choice, but he is presently out of the league. And so, I’m gonna have to go with the current gnarliest-point-guard-in-the-L, one Kyle Lowry. If you can take a charge from LeBron in a regular season game, squaring down against some whitefaced Swedish guy who is following you around ain’t shit.

Then again, the Chess Game With Death isn’t REALLY about skill or mettle. Death has a perpetual upper hand, he will win no matter what. This is just a stalling tactic by the knight, really. The only victory is acceptance in the face of defeat, protecting the group of minstrels who have attended you on your journey home to your wife, and getting fucking roasted by your squire, who is even angrier about the Crusades than you are. For this task, there is, has been, and always will be, only 0-Time All Star Mike Conley, the NBA player who knows the most about the torments of disappointment and still faces it with a smile in his heart. 

Marth. Or the female Marth whose name I forget that some people say has some advantages over OG Marth. No Duck Hunt bullshit for Death, a sword and an iron will, knocking your tepid ass right off the platform until the DMT hits and you pass into the great beyond. 

Firing Terry is a shitty idea and anyone who says otherwise is a Neil Olshey plant. As for trading CJ, I guess it depends on who is coming back in return, but honestly the value proposition there is pretty fucking high. If anything, trade Zach Collins and his barn owl face while people still believe in his potential. Also you’re making decisions about the Blazers after this stupid-ass season? Pass.

Sure, why not. Who cares? This trade only makes sense in that Indiana will receive another Caucasian forward, and thus can ditch T.J. Leaf while maintaining their quote of whites. Oladipo is destined to end up in Miami in 2021, where he’ll finally achieve his dream of collaborating musically with Gloria Estefan and be forever known as the consolation prize for not getting Giannis.

I didn’t spend more than a second thinking about this:

Notorious subprime loan predator Quicken Loans, led by Trump donor and entitled Cavs owner Dan Gilbert, letting everyone know that they’re doing everything they can to make sure people have housing? Really brazen, disgusting stuff, set to an a capella rendition of a song from Sesame Street Also, don’t worry, folks, we’re just doing it for veterans who have been scarred by our terrible country’s various shitty military adventures, not “normal homeless people” who just need to find a jeorurb goddamnit. Speaking of housing, Gilbert got a giant tax break on his slumlord investments in Detroit after donating to Trump, taking money intended for the schoolchildren in his neighborhood and spending it on, I dunno, casino shit and giant banners of Andre Drummond and Collin Sexton.

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