Archive for basketball

A Man Of Extreme Passion

Posted in Hero with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 18, 2011 by Suge White


“…this man was one of extreme passion.  His name was Tommy Heinsohn”  –  a great 17th century poet (whose name I cannot recall).

Watching Boston Celtics basketball is a beautiful thing on its own but that beauty is certainly enhanced by the wise words of Tommy Heinsohn.  His hate for the opposition is viseral, while  his love for the green and white is nothing short of glorious.  His ability to remain uncontrollably biased in the face of the most irrefutable evidence is the epitome of honor.  In fact, I wish I had that kind of support in my every day life.  Think about it.  Who wouldn’t feel better if Tommy was there to give his support when you put down the box of Fruit Loops and pick up the Cheerios.  Maybe I could get a few breaks from the police attempting to give me speeding tickets if he was in the front seat yelling at them as soon as they got to my window.  And I, for one, would be much better off if he was there to demand a foul everytime a girl tried to slip me a finger during a heated sexual exchange.  Even if the referee didn’t see it, at least Tommy will be there calling for a flagrant foul.  The possibilities are almost as endless as his loyalty.  So as you watch the NBA playoffs, remember that Tommy Heinsohn is a saintly figure that should be praised at every turn.  Remember that the scotch coursing through his veins is free of that Protestant taint.  And remember, his dedication is a shining example for every child in this country who wears a Celtics jersey.


Get Some!

Posted in Stop...Look...Listen with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 23, 2010 by Suge White


Hustle Womens present…., the foremost purveyor of anti-Lebron paraphernalia this side of Akron. It’s only fitting that we kick off our brand by releasing the ‘I F*cked LBJ’s Mother’ t-shirts. Big Up, Delonte West! Though this internet rumor may very well be untrue, it only serves to highlight the questionable sexual history of one, Ms. James. What can I say? King James mother is a whore.  Listen, I know there are many people out there without fathers but God damn Gloria James, how many 6’8″ ballers were there in Akron back in the early 80’s? And how many of them did you sleep with?  The answer is probably all of them if not a single guy has come forward claiming to be royalty. Even with your million dollar baby, nobody out there is willing to claim they tagged you back in the day?  Were you a crackhead?  Were you known to possess a severe case of the herpes? Or did you just sleep with anybody that would throw some big dick your way? Then again, it could be all of the above.  I guess we will never know.  With that being said, let it be known that Ms. James and the whiz kid are hardly our only targets. We will be tackling people, places, objects, and events of many different origins.  Our shirts will capitalize on the ridiculousness of humanity.  Some will be funny, others will be bummy, but they will all be lacking in any and all forms of class.

Pissing on the Couz

Posted in Disaster, Great American Pastimes, Hero, Listen, Look, Make Decisions, Shit We Do, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 13, 2010 by Suge White



Again I watch the sun rise on a Saturday morning. Good God, what is this world coming to? The only people that should be up at this hour are fiends and dealers, cops and robbers, and my grandmother. Yet, you see parents driving vans filled with children, McDonalds parking lots filled (all be it with grandmothers and fathers like my own), and this sorry ass dragging itself into work. I don’t know if I can take it much longer. Maybe I should force them to haul me off to the pen before I even walk in the door by exposing myself to this giant Bob Cousey statue in front of me. Not in a sexual way but more of a ‘I’ve been drinking all night and now I’m going to piss on this giant blurry object in front of me, WOOHOO!!!’ sort of way. I firmly believe that, if the tables were turned, the Couz would have no problem washing down my bronze frame with his weak ass 80 something year old stream.

Craig Sager and The Impeccably Purple Gator Skin Boots.

Posted in Delicious, Disaster, Fucked Up People, Hero, Look, Make Decisions, Shit We Do, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 13, 2010 by Suge White


Did anyone see Craig Sagers boots at last nights NBA All-Star Rookies vs. Sophomores game? They were, dare I say magical. The man was wearing the finest, purple gator skin, boots that I had ever seen. Actually, they were the only purple gator skin boots that I had ever seen but that should only add to the glory of them This may have been nothing new for Craig but for me, these boots were something straight out of ‘Lord of the Rings’… pure fiction. If you locked Prince and Dog the Bounty Hunter in a room for 3 days in search of some collectively creative, stroke of genius, I would think these shoes would be the eventual byproduct 90% of the time. And the socks? I can’t imagine those boots being worn with anything other than socks made from the fur of the most sexually dominant chinchillas science can find.

K.G. giving it to Craig Sager over his suit…. “You should be butt ass naked.  This should be burnt.”

I Am Not Ashamed… Yet

Posted in Delicious, Great American Pastimes, Hero, Listen, Make Decisions, Shit We Do with tags , , , , , , on January 28, 2010 by Suge White

Am I the only one who has experienced the  business end of some analingus?  It was an unexpectedly magical moment but most of my friends have never experienced such a feeling and therefore cannot relate.  Scrilla (local goon) compared it to a game of basketball.  He said he hasn’t even gotten off the bench yet, except for that one time the coach put him in just to commit a hard foul.  (I’m not sure what constitutes a hard foul when it comes to recieving analingus.  Gas maybe?)  Anyways, I had to explain to him that eventhough I got in the game, it was just garabage time in a blow out loss.  I am no superstar.