I’m so mad at Kyle Korver right now.
So I was sitting at home making these highlights while my girlfriend is in the same room watching TV. She doesn’t even like basketball so she usually doesn’t pay attention to my labors. It’s funny, she would actually rather watch made-up stories about made-up people on some stupid TV show over the real-life personalities and unedited human drama of professional basketball. Women, right?
Anyway, I’m editing these clips for you folks, and the stupid Clippers broadcast team shows a close-up of Korver’s face. My girlfriend, who apparently has some kind of spider-sense when it comes to hot guys on screen, immediately asked, “was that Ashton Kutcher?”
I say, “No babe, that’s Kyle Korver, he just hit a three for the 89th straight game.” That stat should be impressive even to the non-sports-aficionado, but she just said “mm-hmm” while continuing to stare at the screen.
After a while, she asked, “What team does he play for?”
My babe can be a real bimbo sometimes. It said “Hawks” right on his jersey. But I put on my happy voice and say “Atlanta, honey.” It’s getting pretty late and I’m super wiped, so I leave the rest of the editing until morning and get into bed. Soon my girlfriend joins me, but she was a lot more frigid than usual. Didn’t want to cuddle or nothing.
I woke up this morning and my GF was already out of bed. This troubles me because she sleeps until the alarm every single time. I figure she’s making me a delicious pancake breakfast so I walked into the kitchen, but the GF wasn’t there either.
Now here comes the sad part. I walk to the fridge to try to scrounge together something, maybe eat the powdered pancake mix out of the box like I usually do, when my eye spies a note stuck to the front of the fridge. It says:
“[DownToBuck’s real name here],
I’m moving to Atlanta to be with my lovely soulmate Kyle. I caught a plane this morning. You can keep Ruffers.”
I look to where my girlfriend’s dumbass dog, Ruffers, is peeing on the floor. I’m not so mad about my girlfriend leaving, that seems to happen a lot with me, but that dog is seriously the dumbest thing on Earth. I’m sitting here typing at my keyboard and he keeps walking around and whimpering, like he misses her or something. Stupid dog, I don’t even miss my girlfriend (she was a bitch), can’t you just man up and stop crying about it?
I hope Kyle enjoys that stupid broad.