O, Lebron
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I know it hurts, dude, but let me tell you about this puffball sitting in white sunlight in the middle of nowhere. And I inject this puffball into your neck, balls and butt. And you fall on to your hands and knees. And you’re soft and suave as a Pomeranian barking up philosophies, experiences, Robert Hass’s silkiest poems (and I wish I’d rescued you from a fairy tale). And you don’t stop.
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I am, though, standing in front of the mirror. And I’m holding a bowling bowl. And I smash my face with it. . . And I am you, LeBron James (blah, blah). . . And I haven’t written a sonnet in a thousand years (blah, blah). . .Pigs are buried, dancing, in every second. . .Blood lashed on the hardwood.
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And, so, let us go then, you and I, Lebron, and make a Star Wars movie with bits of Shakespeare’s hair. And it’s all be ok, I swear. Twos and Threes raining down all around us like fame/plague/yr heart/my heart/. . . blah, blah
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Or maybe you’d rather be that hopeful moment at the end of Kafka’s Metamorphosis where they leer at the daughter so young and so fresh:
I got this feeling on a summer day when you were gone
I crashed my car into a bridge
I watched, I let is burn
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but, please LeBron, do get up. Because we need you. One way or another. We really do!
Tags: Kafka, LeBron James, Shakespeare, T.S. Eliot
Geez Louise, what is up with the Brony J sweat-lap? Drive the lane, force the contact — and 20 more trips to the line than Indiana/Boston/OKC by the end of the third. Try to even up the freebies in the fourth, after the, um, decision’s been made. Last year’s ‘championship’ is almost as tainted as the Craven’s second Super-Bowl ‘win’.
WAY more obnoxious than mocking Anne Frank’s legacy…
Favorite dandelion reference:
indeed, LeBron is America’s Sweetheart — & win or lose, my personal Auschwitz,…
Am I a Brony J “hater”? FUCK YEAH
–almost guaranteeing a Heat ‘win’ in the series…
He shall wear his trousers rolled.
eletric bolts shoot thru my balls/ just at the thought
mounting the stairs like a toad
you ARE a complicated gal!
oh Lanabron James we love you get up
but fall down again tonight, plz, Lanabron,…
build us a crucifix, extra tall, out of hardwood
(blushing)
Is there still time for the Pistons to enter the playoffs somehow? Like, can they rush the court?
(I don’t ‘understand’ basketball.)
but you “understand” LeBron James — dead man walking, plz, plz,.. yea, there is a devil, i say, among us… a devil, man, a real fcking devil!!! …
Basketball: Nine Points
1. There is a ball and a horizontal hole.
2. You put the ball through the top side of the horizontal hole.
3. You can’t step carrying the ball; you have to bounce it as you step with it in your hands’ control.
4. You’re on a team, among whom the ball can be handed or passed, one to another.
5. There’s another team trying to put the same ball through the top side of a different horizontal hole.
6. You may not strike or otherwise physically impede players on the other team, but you may strike or grasp the ball at any time.
7. When the ball goes through the top side of either horizontal hole, points are added to its respective team’s total, starting at zero.
8. After a period of time, or a total of points, the game stops and the team with the most points wins that game.
9. There are rules added to this outline commensurate with a balance between the players’ tolerance for ‘bureaucracy’ and inclination to violating these basic parameters.
On the theme of a rival to Bron Derangement Syndrome–a joyce of a veneration:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2013/jun/13/taipei-tao-lin-new-life-literature
“Alt Lit poetry has a glorious confessional ecstasy that incorporates the primal screaming of the most vibrant abstract expressionist and the Beat poetry of the 50s and 60s”
and in “basketball” (as in life) it’s best not to be an asshole, or if you’re going to be an asshole, it’s best to be a likable one.. not a genuine flimsy pancake piece of evil (but i’m just talking here)…
LeBron James? You mean Gloria Marie’s kid? The son of the lady who was seeing Delonte West?
Wait. I thought there were baskets of peaches somehow involved in the game, too.
yeah, that one, the one that grew up in Sicily, the pirate of the mediterranean, blah, blah
peaches are the warm fuzzy feeling (aka “the LeBron fizz”)
lol icona pop
yeah, they’re like anti-lebron, a kind of garlic, a-venom, blah, blah
seriously, tho, “eletric (sic) bolts shoot thru my balls” totally made me LOL
i mean,
subtlety schmubtlety
who needs subtlety
I read that if he clears his advance, he gets a $10k bonus.
I guess it’s clear who wears the pants in the Alt Lit house.
(I don’t have anything against the guy.)
thank you