Tuesday, March 30, 2010

First and foremost, I'd like for you to read my article.

Someone in my office has what amounts to a lifetime supply of Activia in the shared refrigerator. I don't dare judge, but I really don't need to know that much about my co-workers.

Anyway, lost in my ode to Dr. Leftridge yesterday, was the real story, which was a dream I had on Sunday night. Now, I have mentioned Ron Artest in my blog several times over the years. Diehard Basketball fans know him as the semi-crazy, formerly great,and overrated defensive stopper who plays for the Los Angeles Lakers. Casual basketball fans know him as the guy who was the center of the Brawl in the Palace, back in 2004. And people who nothing about basketball, know him as the guy hugged up on Toni Braxton in her latest video.

I know Ron for all those things, but the reason I mention him in my blog so much has to do with his lack of a shape-up. For some reason, when Artest visits the barber, he never has good shape-up, which is puzzling considering his high tax bracket. He is well within his right to do whatever he damn well pleases with HIS hair, but I am also well within my right to clown and make fun of him. Artest has sported haircuts like this, this and that. The drawings are no big deal if you're into that sort of thing, but the lack of a shape up is disturbing. By the way, for those of you who don't know what a quality shape up looks like, I direct you right here.

So in this dream I had, my brother and I were at some outdoor carnival, and we were playing one of those basketball games where they try to convince you that the ball is not bigger than the basket, when it really is. We were laughing and joking with each other, when someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. I looked, and I said out loud, "Oh sh*t, you're Ron Artest." Now, I'm 5'9" on a good day and I weigh 195ish, and Artest is 6'7" everyday and he's easily 240-250, so instantly I was a little weak in the knees. Artest was pointing his finger in my face, and asking me why I insisted on making fun of his shape up each and every chance I could (he had no shape up in the dream either). I tried to appeal to his (semi)rational side and tell him it was all tongue-in-cheek(a term I never use in real, non-dream life because it sounds like a move of an experienced fellatio giver) and that he shouldn't take it or me seriously.

Ron was not buying my explanation, and he pulled me closer (pause) and proceeded to tell me how much he was going to, "F**k me up!". At this point, my brother (who on a great, great day is 5'8") jumped in between us and told everyone to be cool and walk away. I don't know why or how he was able to diffuse the argument, but it worked. Ron dapped me up, but said if I talked about him again, he was coming after me, and I promised I wouldn't say anything anymore. And then as my brother and I walked away, we clowned his asymmetrical haircut once again. Then I woke up. End of dream.

My own personal Ron Carter week continues. If you're in DC this Thursday through Saturday, and you have nothing to do, go here and buy a ticket to see this legendary bassist.

A Theme in 3/4 - Ron Carter


scout said...

LMAOOOOOOOOO! I am cracking up at this entire entry! Boy, you are crazy! hahahaha!

Sab D said...

"coming at ya wit 3 bachelor degrees, certifying me fo' makin'ya weak in da knees". Can't lie, I borrowed some of EST's lines back in the day.
Only thing worse than scrapping with Ron would be listening to one of his CDs ....