Sorry about the lack of a today's "Morning Cup of Jo" but we have somewhat of a crisis on our hands here at the SportsBrah's headquarters on this cloudy NY day. As many of you have already noticed Suessmandzadeh covers your morning news and your boy aka me, keeps you strait with a nice lunchtime update. The "Suessman" just lives and breathes for those early morning sunrises so by virtue of that phenomenon the morning column is his. On the other hand, Your boy Dbl-A has never even woken up before 12 noon so its not even a question of who's doing the morning and who's doing the afternoon. It's just how my clock works and not to mention ITS SCIENCE PEOPLE! Damn, must I be the only smart one here?
So here's our problem: I know personally that if I don't obtain my daily cup of Jo, well I'm just not the same person. Can't start my day. I basically feel like Bill O' Reilly each time from his epic freakout on that intern which, not to mention is my favorite video clip of all time. I mean, the bottom line is I can't do it, and the fucking thing sucks! so let's just say it's in the general populations best interest for me to get my coffee in the morning that way I don't turn into a crazed lunatic like DMX, steal a police car, and proceed to drive it onto one of JFK airport's runways. It's just not fun for anyone.
Now onto the important matter. So your ace Suessmandzadeh call's me up this morning in a frantic squabble, telling me he's on the highway driving at high speeds, and that he thinks the FBI and Perverted Justice are after him. My initial reaction was to turn on the T.V. cause maybe he's on Fox 5 driving like Jimmy Johnson, going full tilt to avoid the coppers. What? you think i'm gonna miss this? Hell no. So in an attempt to calm him down he tells me this:
Apparently last night he had a rather streamy X-rated dream involving one, underaged little tease that goes by the name of Miley Cyrus. My first thought was sarcastic. "Ok great, sorry you had to wake up buddy we're not all as lucky as you. We can't all have wet dreams about Hannah Montana. I hate when good dreams like that go to waste." At this point I can't keep him calm. He's strait up bugging telling me that she had him tied up to a chair, and was swinging around a stripper pole, wearing this tight cat suit screaming "Chris Hanson's gonna ask you to take a seat!" At this point I myself was starting to profuscely sweat a ridiculous amount of bullets wondering what I had a dream about last night. This kind of shit has dudes shook. We ain't trying to catch a case here! Shit had me stressin', but I had to worry about my boy- he was in trouble now.
In his frantic condition he told me that he was driving up upstate in his 1916 Olds-mobile to try and cross the Canadian border, before authorities could get to him. Damn, that Chris Hanson just has some effect doesn't he? I don't blame the guy. If I woke up from that dream after seeing Hanson's pastey face, and hearing that douche tell me to takeeeeeeee a seeeeeeeeeeaaat I would jump out of my skin so fast I would look like the Edgar alien from "Men in Black." Just scary shit all around. But your boy Suessmandzadeh assured me that once he finds a cheap motel to hide in for about 9-10 months or so he's gonna try and get some internet hooked up and keep these morning cups of jo' coming for you mutts and pretty ladies.
Dont Even Stress It!
-Dbl-A
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