Okay, here's the deal.
I headed to my favorite watering hole tonight to have raw fish (healthier than fish and chips, dammit) and some tequila, wondering what could possibly occupy my mind on the sports screens, when I glanced up and saw a match-up between the Orlando Magic and the Utah Jazz. I hate basketball because it bores me (with scores like 104-98, what kind of challenge is that?), but something snagged my eye.
See, I thought basketball players were tall and thin, and that's it.
Since when did they get those SHOULDERS?
It's like one big Michelangelo painting, triceps the size of my leg, and I gotta shamefully admit: I can't tell you what happened in the game, or who has the best face, but number 12 of the Orlando Magic? I...uh...shoulders. He...uh...shoulders...I...
More tequila, please. ONWARD, ahem.
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