Posts Titled "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME" Are Now a Recurring Event

Like many of you, I take extreme umbrage with today's trade of Tyson Chandler. We gave up our only legitimate 7 footer and inside presence for an underachiever who only averages 19 minutes a game, the rotting corpse of Joe Smith and some random fuckface D League kid. The not-Sonics have FIVE(!) first round draft picks in the next two drafts and we couldn't get one of them? To say we got pennies on the dollar is an insult to pennies and Abraham Lincoln. I hope you're happy, Jeff Bower. You insulted Lincoln.

I boycotted tonight's game in a show of protest to the trade. Predictably, trading away our best defender resulted in us almost losing to a team that only dressed EIGHT FUCKING GUYS. Oh, and we also let a guy torch us for 47 points.

If the team is willing to enter into dealings with the shadiest character in the league, is it that much of a stretch to believe that they'd be in bed with Big Condiment? Think about it. First, they take away the chili, now they take away our center. I shudder to think what they'll take next...

Oh, by the way, anyone interested in joining my pool on who's going to be the Hornets team representative at the draft lottery on June 5? I'm putting my money on 1987-88 leading scorer Kelly Tripucka.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME

Okay, we don't normally direct our anger at anyone but Big Condiment around these parts, but tonight we were victims of such an egregious offense that we couldn't hold our tongues. Or our typing fingers. What a despicable performance.

Every motherfucker in that locker room who isn't named Chris Paul had damn well better be ashamed of themselves right now. Those guys just straight up STOLE MONEY from the fans who paid to watch that game. In fact, I want a credit on my cable bill from Cox because I watched the game on cable. I don't even have the words to describe how disgusted I am right now, except to say that I want to vomit and that I had to go change my contact lenses after the final buzzer because the ones I was wearing when I watched that pathetic excuse for a basketball game actually jumped out of my eyes and committed seppuku at the end of the game.

This time last year, we were riding a nine game win streak and were 20 games over .500. This team isn't even a .500 ballclub without Chris Paul. They'd all better hope and pray that that isn't a serious groin injury because, if that's the only effort they're capable of putting forth without CP on the floor, the bottom's gonna fall out from under us faster than you can say "footlong with chili and a large RC."

NO CHILI, NO PEACE!!!!