In no particular order…

• Lance Armstrong
• Seinfeld (both the show and the person)
• Kiss (the band)
• The post-Jordan NBA
• Tiger Woods
• Organized religion
• Jersey Shore
• NASCAR / country music
• Techno music and the people that listen to it
• Reality shows about cake
• Facebook

Peace

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How is Dikembe Mutombo still playing NBA basketball?

This lanky 7 foot 2 bastard is like 50 years old. He rides the bench for the Houston Rockets…and thank god for that. I hated watching him play basketball, looked like a giraffe running down the court. Plus that damn finger wave looked like ET phoning home.

The greatest thing Mutombo ever did was the following story from We Talkin’ Bout Practice NBA blog.

“Dikembe (I think he was a sophomore at the time, meaning he was probably around 28) was beloved by his fellow classmates at G’Town, known to be a very social and friendly guy. He was also an inexperienced drinker and supposedly got BOMBED whenever he went out and partied, which was very seldom. One night, Deke rolled to some club in Maryland with some friends, absolutely belligerent and dressed like a fool, and upon making his presence felt, hollered out, “WHO WANTS TO SEX MUTUMBO?! WHO WANTS TO SEX MUTUMBO?!” The entire bar went silent for a few brief seconds before erupting into laughter.”

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Why is Chris Berman still doing broadcasts on ESPN?

I don’t understand it, Berman makes no sense and his catch phrases are no longer funny. He has the worst case of ADD I have ever seen. He rambles incoherently about nothing. He alludes to obscure music references that even a Rolling Stone writer wouldn’t understand. He gets to pick any broadcast—baseball games, Super Bowl, Pro Bowl, All-Star games; and everyone he works with kisses his ass.

Chris Berman is a smug, fat, NutriSystem eating, loud, and always annoying ESPN anchor-for-life. Hey Boomer, you realize that comby on your dome doesn’t get thicker the older you get. You are not the Benjamin Button of the hair world; you’re a balding fat man who has a lifetime membership to Hair Club for Men.

Check out “Berman’s Crazy Rant”

The greatest thing that has ever come from Boomer is his NBA All-Star Game weekend antics in Vegas. This is where the name sake for sports blog powerhouse With Leather originated, from this fat piece shits mouth.

The story goes like this; everyone is partying for NBA All-Star weekend in Vegas. A regular guy is sitting at bar running game on a fine woman, in a hot leather dress. This poor schmuck is buying her drinks all night and throwing the kitchen sink at her. So Mr. Big Shot, Chris Berman himself walks into the bar points at the woman in the leather dress and says, “You’re with me, leather” she gets up and leaves with Boomer. This dude is left holding his pud and an empty wallet.

I’m just waiting for some hooker to come forward claiming Boomer forced her to snort lines of coke off his boner.

Case in point…

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Lebron James,

What the fuck is wrong with you!  Did your mommy not teach you any values—apparently not?  Do you know where you come from? You were born and raised in Northeast Ohio hailing from Akron, Ohio. You single-handedly put Cavaliers basketball and the city of Cleveland on the map both nationally and globally. You were on your way to become a God in this city, now you are a complete embarrassment and alienated the Cleveland faithful. You didn’t forget about your scumbag friends from high school, whom you so loving refer to as the ‘four horsemen.’ You might not realize this Bron Bron but a kid with no real world experience, let alone no college degree does not normally become Vice-President of marketing for Nike. You don’t realize what this city has been through The Drive, The Fumble, The Shot, The Blown Save, you must have forgot about this while you were doing the ESPY Awards or Saturday Night Live.

You show up to a Tribe game versus New York sporting a Yankees hat on national television and completely dogging your hometown, what a travesty.  Not only wearing a hat of one the most hated teams in this city’s history but arrogantly and pompously rubbing our face in it by flaunting your hat in the air. How would you like it if Bernie Kosar showed up to a Cavs playoff game a rocking a Pistons jersey, guess what, that wouldn’t happen because Kosar has class.  Do you even know who Bernie Kosar is?

You are done; I’m no longer cheering for you, sticking up for you or comparing you to Michael Jordan. The fact of the matter, you don’t play defense and you can’t consistently make free throws—you are no Mark Price.  I will, like any other die hard Cleveland fan, continue to root for the Cavs and any success that comes with the organization. Go back to where you came from—Akron, home of rubber, the dirtiest strip clubs on Earth, and Cleveland’s red-headed step child.

Sincerely,

The City of Cleveland and its fans

P.S. How many kids do you have now?

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