It's Hot Outside

Given my utter hatred for heat and humidity, I find it hard to believe that I am a descendant of Africa. Anytime it passes oh, 80 degrees, I turn into this fellow here:



I once read that Patrick had to take a shower at halftime, and change into a brand new uniform. I feel him.

Here are five things that get me through an unbearable summer day:

1. Scantily clad women--Even if they're drenching with sweat it's fucking awesome, because then you get a potential wet-T shot. Ladies, I know I've offended you, but you we were looking already.

2. Italian Ice--my personal favorites are served up by the Latina women in the hood who scoop your mango-flavored sugar ice with a pot spoon. I'm not feeling that those shits are a dollar now. Used to be a cool quarter. But then you could only get cherry or coconut.

3. My sweat rag--I'm still on the hunt for the perfect sweat rag. Paper towels are only good for two, maybe three swipes before they shed on your forehead like an Amazonian rattlesnake. Washcloths are okay only if you can rinse and wring them out. Otherwise, it's like wiping your face with a dirty, sticky towel.

4. My one pair of shorts--Folks, I own exactly one pair of shorts, and yes, you will see me rocking those shits on any given hot day. I got camoflauge too, so they could match with everything. And if they don't match the shirt, I'll look like a hipster. I'm not a total dirtbomber, the drawers are different.

5. Diet and exercise--I know that's two things, but if you got a problem, get your own blog. I always get the urge to exercise and eat less during this time of year, and I come back to work in the fall to much fanfare. Maybe I need to move to Arizona or something.


Honorable mention
A sack of bud--I get so blazed that I can't tell if it's hot or not. This also works for winter time!

Here's a golden oldie for y'all:

Knick Bag of Funk

The MSG channel in my cable package has become as obsolete as BET. I can't watch the Knicks much longer this season. As a lifelong fan, I feel I've earned the right to a sabbatical.

I cried many a night watching the ol' blue, orange, and white fall to MJ and Reggie. Sure we'd get dunked on and three's down our throat, but we would fight to the finish, game 7s and all that. But these days, the team has lost its pride-something I never thought I'd see in my lifetime. Marbury(or Strawberry, as i call him) needs to focus on pushing those sneakers into more stores so i can get a pair finally.

I can't say how good or bad Isiah is as a coach with such a puss-ass team, but he needs to move on already.

Here's an example of the way the Knicks used to do it:




I come from the

1. Mark Jackson

2. Gerald Wilkins

3. Johnny Newman

4. Charles Oakley

5. PATRICK EWING


days. straight cheese. Special shout to Anthony Mason and Xavier McDaniel. They breathed the breath of the city. They had heart and balls, corazon and cojones. Bring that old thing back!