The Innnbaaah Finals

Quesadilla, yuppies and yuckies.

So, unless you've been living under a rock--or a person so fat, they might as well be a rock--you know that today is the start of the NBA Finals. Now, if you remember one of my previous posts, you'll know that my love for the NBA is as miniscule as the chance that there won't be some new paranoia-based scare in the next couple months leading up to the end of the world the year.

But, at least, I get to watch a hometown hero fellow DMVer in Kevin Durant (who I'm convinced Gary Williams did not offer a scholarship to, but that's a topic for another time) take center stage and (hopefully) not choke like so many others.

Don't give me that look. YOU'RE the one playing with Jayceon "Game" Taylor, who may've been in the League too. That is, if it wasn't for drugs, "gang activity," working with Fiddy Cent, deciding to namedrop every remotely famous person on the face of the Earth, etc.
Durant is one of the only NBA players that I "rock with like that." And, no, it's not because he's from "the Area." Keith Booth was from "the Area," went to UMD, and played was on the Bulls' roster for their last title, and I still don't really like him much (but again, that's a case for another time). I do, however, despise this "Durantula" nickname.

I'll let you simmer on that.

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