( 1:39 AM )
Christmas Wish
To the dude who tossed the plastic cup on Ron Artest when he was lying on the scorer’s table:
First off, nice shot! Right in the chest! I’ll bet you were probably a keg master back in college--capable of superhero-like plastic cup throwing abilities. I mean, despite a court order to the contrary, you were drinking in public (late in the 4th quarter of an NBA blowout no less), and you still nailed Artest clean. Man he was he pissed too. Did you happen to see that TV replay of the melee anywhere?
Thing is this-- if beer cup guy is actually charged with assault, it might shut down all the plastic cup factories thus putting millions out of work. If a Good American can’t throw a beer on someone who could use some cooling off, well, imagine the chaos that might break out at kids birthday parties, rock concerts, and Super Motocross events. Even spilled cups could equal big lawsuits. What if someone actually got hurt from a thrown plastic cup? Next thing you know, ice arenas will ban throwing roses onto the ice because it might be perceived as attempted assault on skaters, and guys ass-slapping each other after big plays might be arrested for attempted sodomy.
Anyway, my Christmas wish is to rewind time back to that fateful night when Artest was on the scorers table, and instead of over-reacting when a paltry plastic cup was tossed at him, Artest could have instead signed some autographs and explained to fans that he was sorry for clubbing Wallace unnecessarily during garbage-time. Oh, yeah and he could also tell fans not to throw litter. See, this whole thing could have been easily avoided.
Really though, shouldn’t the NBA and the venue take some responsibility? At football games, beer sales end after halftime (obviously to prevent drunken violence), so why does the NBA sell beer through the entire game? But the real question is who recovered the infamous cup? I’m sure someone pay would pay stupid money for it on Ebay—cripes, just last week someone paid over $8300 for a rare Misfits record. By the way--I’m not selling my Banana Splits CD for any amount less than $8500.
Hmm-guess after all that gibberish, I forgot my Christmas wish for plastic cup dude. Okay, here’s one--How about a good lawyer-- one who could claim the NBA was at fault for his drunkenness.
Other thoughts:
Locally here in Rochester, NY, the City Council is suddenly deciding whether or not to ban “street meat vendors” operating from midnight to five a.m. What freaking lunacy. If a Good American can’t get a hot dog at 2:30 in the morning, then what is this country coming to? This is like a stupid Footloose thing—older authority fucking with the young man, but instead of taking away the right to dance, it’s taking away the right to eat food. It’s fast, cheap, and always delicious, and probably most important, street meat helps drivers get their senses back after barhopping.
Why can’t the few cranks that complain about everything realize that the City is fmade for staying up late on weekends, eating bad food and drinking alcohol? If you want peace and sleepy-quiet on Friday and Saturday nights, then don’t live in a crowded entertainment district. This dumb plan to ban vendors is merely eliminating jobs for hard working folks (who hike their ass out in brutally cold temperatures and bravely sell dogs to hungry drunks).
~Last night’s Arrested Development was excellent and by far the best episode this season (I was starting to worry a little), but did anyone see ex-Dolphins running back Ricky Williams on 60 Minutes? Earlier in the day during the CBS NFL pre-game show, Dan Marino had the gall to diss Williams for smoking weed. This coming from a guy once known in college as “Doobie Dan.”
Song of the Day:
“Bounce, Rock, Skate, Roll” Vaughan Mason & Crew 1981
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