I know it looks like I'm moving, but I'm standing still.
I, like many others, was embarassingly hoodwinked by the "isLove Generator." While it seemed to be reaching into my deepest soul and tapping into the Mookie Mystique, it was in fact reaching into my interests block and selecting randomly. However, I maintain that this is as clear an indication of the Mookie Mystique's metaphysical marvel as any other that has occurred. It could just as easily have chosen "Patrick Kluivert" or "Liechtenstein."
Here's the thing about Mookie Blaylock. When playing NBA Live 2001 for PC, all you need to be assured of a title is the Mookmaster. If I were playing as the Lakers, for example, I would gladly have traded away Kobe, Shaq, and even Rick Fox in order to get my hands on Mookie Blaylock. All I needed was him running the point and of course the super-player Ben Miller I created using the game's edit mode. He is like me in every way, I don't fudge on things like height (I guess that's cuz I'm 6-6), so he comes out looking like it might actually be me out there on the court. The only major difference is sometimes I give him Kurt Rambis goggles and he has a habit of hitting turnaround 3's from the baseline, and when on occasion they miss he gets his own rebound and dunks over Alonzo Mourning while getting fouled from behind by Ben Wallace. I intentionally miss the free throw so he can get the rebound and bury a jumper while being punched in the temple by Ron Artest. On defense, well, he doesn't really play defense, but when he does it's usually just hanging out in the paint waiting for some fool like Vince Carter to try his luck. If Mookie commits a turnover or two, no matter, I'll just put SuperBen at the point, sit Mookie down and let his aura get into the arena filtration system, eventually permeating my whole team. Next thing you know Shaun Bradley's crossing up Jason Kidd and John Stockton is two-fisting dunks and calling Bill Walton a faggot. It's a sight to behold.
So that's the origin of me and my Mookie Mystique. If you wanted to know. Two sentences ago, did I just make a Janis Joplin joke? I think I may have...
I've been pseudo-invited to a formal Christmas party tonight. Meaning, if I do decide to go, I'll have to arrange some kind of tie-tying seminar with some of my fellow male attendees. It's pathetic I know, but I haven't done it in so long! I used to know how, I swear!
If I don't decide to go then I'll be right here, drinking gin and working on Mystery Story #2, a depressing tale of a town gone mad with fear during the Cold War. And there's a murder of some kind. Doesn't that sound promising? Who wouldn't want to read that?
I have been a lazy motherfucker lately, so I'm gonna go to the gym. Right now. I'm getting up. I'm on my way out...
Here's the thing about Mookie Blaylock. When playing NBA Live 2001 for PC, all you need to be assured of a title is the Mookmaster. If I were playing as the Lakers, for example, I would gladly have traded away Kobe, Shaq, and even Rick Fox in order to get my hands on Mookie Blaylock. All I needed was him running the point and of course the super-player Ben Miller I created using the game's edit mode. He is like me in every way, I don't fudge on things like height (I guess that's cuz I'm 6-6), so he comes out looking like it might actually be me out there on the court. The only major difference is sometimes I give him Kurt Rambis goggles and he has a habit of hitting turnaround 3's from the baseline, and when on occasion they miss he gets his own rebound and dunks over Alonzo Mourning while getting fouled from behind by Ben Wallace. I intentionally miss the free throw so he can get the rebound and bury a jumper while being punched in the temple by Ron Artest. On defense, well, he doesn't really play defense, but when he does it's usually just hanging out in the paint waiting for some fool like Vince Carter to try his luck. If Mookie commits a turnover or two, no matter, I'll just put SuperBen at the point, sit Mookie down and let his aura get into the arena filtration system, eventually permeating my whole team. Next thing you know Shaun Bradley's crossing up Jason Kidd and John Stockton is two-fisting dunks and calling Bill Walton a faggot. It's a sight to behold.
So that's the origin of me and my Mookie Mystique. If you wanted to know. Two sentences ago, did I just make a Janis Joplin joke? I think I may have...
I've been pseudo-invited to a formal Christmas party tonight. Meaning, if I do decide to go, I'll have to arrange some kind of tie-tying seminar with some of my fellow male attendees. It's pathetic I know, but I haven't done it in so long! I used to know how, I swear!
If I don't decide to go then I'll be right here, drinking gin and working on Mystery Story #2, a depressing tale of a town gone mad with fear during the Cold War. And there's a murder of some kind. Doesn't that sound promising? Who wouldn't want to read that?
I have been a lazy motherfucker lately, so I'm gonna go to the gym. Right now. I'm getting up. I'm on my way out...