So I’ve been watching a lot of NBA basketball lately. The Playoffs are actually exciting this year and well there really aren’t any other regularly televised sports that I want to watch. So as I was watching the first game of the Orlando-Detroit second round series and I found myself thinking bad, bad thoughts. Thoughts that I knew I shouldn’t be thinking. Thoughts for which I knew my friends would ridicule me. Thoughts that may very well damn my eternal soul. But there they were, floating around in my brain nonetheless. What should I do about them? Should I divulge these awful thoughts, these vile feelings? Should I let the world in on my dirty little secret? Will I be able to forgive myself for openly admitting to such blasphemous tendencies? I’ll let you be the judge…
I THINK J.J. REDICK IS HOT.
Like really hot. Like “as I searched for photos for this post I was even more convinced of his hotness” hot.
Image “borrowed” from jjredick.net
There. I said it. Judge away. Now can you see why I am so conflicted? He’s J.J. stinking Redick. He is a minion of the anti-Christ. HE PLAYED FOR DUKE. Not only did he play for them, he holds like all of their scoring records. His jersey hangs in those most cursed rafters. There is an excellent chance that he thinks Rat-boy Mike Kszeoawejfsasdki is a good person. He is probably a total douche bag. He cries. He writes poetry. He flashes the “shocker” sign after hitting threes. To top it off, he’s not even a good pro player! He’s done little more than ride the pine pony for last 2 seasons (although he did get some decent minutes in the last few games of the regular season). He has such awe-inspiring stats as 4.1 ppg, .5 apg, .7 rpg. And yet, I want to make babies with him. Overly gelled hair be damned!
What are you trying to tell the crowd here, J.J.?
Dep Ultimate Hold Gel. He clearly went a little nuts with it.
I am a bad Tar Heel. I probably shouldn’t be allowed to wear Carolina Blue. My one and only defense is that I didn’t go to UNC when he played for Duke. I never saw him play. In fact, I never watched a game where he played at Duke. Not even on TV. I lived in a “sucky basketball school” bubble, and hence rarely even watched college basketball prior to moving to the great state of North Carolina. But I know that I’m wrong. I know there is no hope for us. What would we talk about? He would start sentences with, “So while I was at Duke…” and I would probably do something super mature like stick my fingers in my ears and go “Lalalalalalala”. But we could have dirty secret sex. No one has to know I love him. Well, except the entire internet…
This just screams, ” I know you love me, and that you hate it. I’m okay with that. See you in the hotel room in 10 mintutes…”
So what’s the verdict kids, damned for all eternity? Or can you forgive this lapse in judgment and loyalty? I mean look at him! He’s adorable. I can hardly be blamed.