No Big Hair

At last, the NBA season has started, providing me with a team to root for that is actually very good instead of mediocre at best, pitiful at worst. For the latter, the worst is yet to come, with death matches against hated rivals and perennial powerhouses Tech, OU and t.u. still on the docket. That's what the Ags are facing these days, a docket, not a schedule. And the judgements probably won't be very pleasant.

I only caught some of the San Antonio victory over Denver, at a Dairy Queen in Kermit after a high school volleyball game. Earlier that day I perused Soi Disantra's NBA preview and have to say it's pretty on the money, although I'd replace "Here" with "Cut Your Hair" for the Spurs due to the mini-fro Duncan was sporting last night. Memo to Tim: Scottie Pippen never looked cool.

I would post that picture, but apparently I've forgotten even the most elementary bit of html. Click away, then.

Otherwise, cool list from one of the select blogs I waste time at work (see above) reading. Oh, I could be out in the community, pounding the pavements, following up on leads and letting the citizens of Fort Stockton in on what's happening in their world, today. But c'mon, we're a weekly, and besides, no one's really doing anything anyway. Not anything interesting, anyhow. There was that emu thing at least.

Soon I'll be headed back to the apartment, with no Internet access. This means no live-blogging NBA shootaround (Stephen A. Smith in outlandish claim shockah) or dissing Steve Nash for looking like a troll. Not in real time at least. And he does resemble a denizen of Middle Earth, but let's face it - dude can ball, Great White Norther or not.

I could go on to complain about my job or expound on my prospects for leaving, but I've bitched about that enough today. Now I just want to do three things: fill my body with poison, watch basketball and listen to "Tanglewood Numbers."