Furkan Korkmaz scoring the pleasant-but-not-really-mind-blowing amount of seventeen points is starting to become a crisis. This is the fifth time this season he’s scored exactly seventeen, and he’s only scored more than that three times. I know he’s not doing it on purpose, but it really feels like he’s making a specific and coordinated effort to drive me to insanity by constantly having mediocre scoring games which are good enough to demand a highlight video but not good enough to arouse any kind of real excitement among my subscriber base.
And it’s working. I think I’m losing my marbles over here. I keep waking up in the morning to find that my PopTarts are already made and sitting on a plate on my computer desk. I know my kitty Japurri is capable of making Pop-Tarts himself, but he’s not really capable of getting them up on the desk on a plate. Also, he’s well-trained not to hop on my desk because I’m anxious that he’ll knock over my monitors. Maybe the more worrying thing is that these Pop-Tarts have the image of Furkan Korkmaz burned into them, and these aren’t just hysterical pareidolic manifestations either, these are like super hi-res pictures of Korkmaz. On my Pop-Tarts. Every morning.
I always eat the Pop-Tarts really quickly just so I can go about my day and pretend that nothing’s weird. But there’s definitely something very weird happening right now that even rapid ingestion of Pop-Tarts cannot deny. Either I’m hallucinating all this or Korkmaz has greater control over my life than I would have ever guessed.
Long story short, I would really appreciate it if Korkmaz would either bump up his scoring output a little bit (I’m fine with nineteen or even eighteen points really) or just stop scoring totally and force Brett Brown to stop playing him. Because these seventeen-point games are really assaulting my sanity right now. I don’t think they even have Pop-Tarts in Turkey. What the hell.