Stuff one writes about on 30 minutes of sleep: Russians, Housewives, Haircuts

Neighbors

I don’t know where this post is going. I’m on 30 minutes of sleep. Shaking with the EssBux caffes. More wired than the Greyhound in Speed. Disoriented like a toad-licking retriever.

This post could seriously end at any

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(nah, just kidding)

moment. But as you know, I’m never one to let a wrestling diary take the coveted stickied spot for more than 24 hours lest someone confuse us as a front for lucrative crystal meth trading.

Also, Tiger just teed off, so we need these good blogging vibes to offset his futile attempt at par on 1 and the impending onslaught of Accenture suckitude.

It’s time to right this ship, Tiger. I can’t vouch for your sorry ass forever.

Like I was saying, I’m not sure how I missed the premier of Bravo’s smash-trash hit “Real Houseswives of Miami” given its prominent placement on my media consumption calendar. But you can rest assured the pilot’s now queued up on the parents’ DVR and, when I finish my day in the MIA laying in the sun, working out and – in general – prepping for a weekend of buffoonery upon the Carnival Imagination, I will have some sort of prodigious recap of the plasticified awesomess that is The Women of Miami Beach.

SC Abroad: Pt. 2

As I recently texted Bryan, “This blogging thing is really working out.”

Caliente.

I’d like to now transition incoherently to a subject dear to my heart: black people (on cue, Tiger buries a curling par putt on 2… never underestimate the b-vibes, Casualtists). The winners, then, of this week’s omnipresent ‘Melodrama were, in order:

1) ‘Melo Anthony – made sweet bank; avoided Manhattan’s retarded, Springsteen-spawning little sister; appeased his limelight whoring wife LaLa; and, according to ESPN projections, increased his new team’s win total by, mmmmm, two (okay, that last one was a little anticlimactic).

2) Isiah Thomas – You seriously thought a little thing like sexual harassment accusation would deter the most dogged man in the NBA? Please. Isiah’s stubborn enough to misspell his own name for 5 consecutive decades. He allegedly brokered the ‘Melo deal and stands the logical choice to replace the aging Donnie Walsh when Jim Dolan inevitably re-makes the mistake of a lifetime.

3) Mikhail Prohkorov – no truth to the rumor Jerry Sloan retired after finding a bloody horse cranium in his sheets. Russian mobsters know restraint… After whiffing on ‘Melo, the Nets’ owner made off like a bandit, landing the league’s best point guard for a package of poo and potpourri featuring none other than Devin “People Thought I Was Good Once” Harris and Derrick “I Have Huge Upside… As A Daytrader” Favors.

Mikhail Prohkorov

4) Deron Williams – If you’re this dude, moving from Salt Lake City, Utah to the Five Boroughs with Jay-Z is like going from 7-Eleven shoplifting to insider trading with Martha Stewart. You’re ultimately a loser either way. But at least now people are watching.

5) Jason Sudeikis – because guys who trade up from January Jones to Scarlett Johansson are winners period.

In other sports news, I may or may not have placed $2500 on the Magic 5 to 1 to win it all. And by “may or may not have”, I of course mean, “didn’t”.

Before I fall asleep in my bowl full of keyboard, I’d just like to reiterate that the girl who chopped off the back of my hair two nights ago did a fantastic job. If you’re seeing impaired or do not have any recent photographs of me laying around your house, just picture Matthew McConaughey in Two For The Money except, you know, with bigger triceps and more charm.

Thus brings to a tidy conclusion the most clusterf—ed post in SC history. Please, hold your applause.

Thine hammer is Jan Hammer.

Be good,

Hilson