Straight Up Ballin'

So the other night I went to a professional basketball game. As many of you know, for me, this is about as severe as beating up a cripple or eating a raw koala bear, in terms of things that are wrong and I would hope to never do. As with most sporting events, I just have real trouble justifying wasting hours of my time watching a bunch of overpaid diva bitches run around a field or court while I sit on my ass and get stupider and fatter. But the tickets were free, and I went with my friends Julien and Martha and this Polish guy named Woyzeck. It's hard for me to admit, but it was kind of a good time.
I met Julien at his work, which happens to be in the Qwest building, which I think is the tallest building in Colorado. We got to go up to his office, which is part of some company that does strip mining and other evil things (how odd is it that strip mining is so bad and strip dancing seems so right?). Still, I love skyscrapers, and I got to see a cool view. Then the three of us went to the Nuggets game, the tickets for which Julien had won from a company raffle. We even got free parking and Woyzeck bought me a beer.
I guess the Nuggets won, but I'm not sure how important that is, because I wasn't even sure if the teams are in pre-season or post-season or anything like that. And during most of the game, I just talked to Martha about all the hoochies mama in the audience. I think that professional basketball is one of the few sports (aside from foxy boxing) where many of the female audience members get all slutted up and floozied out before attending. So basically, while everyone else was watching the game, me and Martha were engaging in catty gossip and talking shit. Someone's gotta do it.
So, I'll still probably refer to basketball as "hypesketball" for quite some time, but it's not so bad as I imagined it, after all.

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