The Man, The Myth, The Legend

I could trouble you with vivid descriptions of my uncontrollable glee that erupted around 4PM eastern this past Sunday. I could even engage you in a stimulating discussion focused on how damn cold it is here in Chicago. Frankly, I could delve into just about anything that is actually important or relevant to our collective lives (or at least to mine), but I would only be neglecting the attention, admiration and applause a great man of society has come to warrant.

As some of you might already know, the bear in the hug pictured above has proven, yet again, if you think your life is normal, move to NY, join a professional sports team, and watch your good reputation unravel. Or in some cases, get exactly what you deserve.

Word on the street is Eddy Curry, a fine family man who has somehow managed to father four children by the age of 26, is both progressive in one respect, and regressive in another. That's right, the Knicks overweight and heavily tattooed center is a homosexual racist.


First the rather benign remarks. According to his chauffeur - an ex-felon, presumably well versed in homosexuality, torture, and desperate measures - Curry repeatedly called him "white slave", "fucking Jew", "white devil", "cracker", and perhaps most descriptive and to the point, "grandmaster of the KKK." Those are some serious allegations, Mr. Curry. There are plenty who might have beef with generously labeling someone else the grand wizard. In fact, white slave might even be considered offensive. But just when you think his warm flavor of racism sets Mr. Curry apart from other thoughtful athletes, I remind you that reverse racism may be the trend, rather than the exception. So try as you may, Mr. Eddy, it will take more to distinguish yourself as a bonehead idiot who has lost touch with reality.

What is that you say, Mr. Curry? You are much more than a racist? A homosexual demonstrating surefire signs of jungle fever? Well I'll be damned, you are unique! Not only does Eddy enjoy belittling his help, he also savors any opportunity to point a loaded gun at his poor innocent driver's head. And oh yeah, his penis too. Curry "purportedly" had a slight obsession with ejaculating into towels and having his driver promptly clean them so his wife wouldn't find the hardened, mysteriously stiff restoration hardware linens. He also had a propensity for dropping his pants in the white devil's presence, all the while conveniently forgetting to wear under-garments, and blurting out against his will "come and touch it, Dave." Sounds like a bad case of tourette's to me, nothing more, nothing less.


As a man of the law, I am certain of one thing: while Mr. Curry has not yet had his day in court, and these allegations on their face seem remotely far-fetched, he is DEFINITELY guilty. In fact, even if later proved innocent, I'm pretty sure the presumption of guilt overcomes any "proof" his lawyers might produce. After all, they are probably just shifty jew devils too, so they can't be trusted.

A few lessons can be taken from this heroic tale. One, hire a minority, preferably foreign chauffeur. Their chances of fully understanding your disparaging remarks go down drastically when they don't speak english. What's more, rather than let your driver sue you, nip that shit in the bud before such harmful accusations can be made to begin with. Two, ejaculate into kleenex. Easily flushed, soft and abundant, tissues are their perfect, non-traceable accessory. And lastly, if you intend to drop your pants in the company of others, by all means, do so around a jersey-chasing female who might assume the risk of shame in furtherance of an accidental pregnancy, giving rise to that beloved practice known as blackmail. After all, clearly gay people snitch; at worst, women get even.