PHX is not dead yet; you can't read the wil, can't relly write them off--they might put it together yet. It might not happen until you see Orlando dress up--like Hedo wearing an ascott, Howard wearing a cumberbund--but it might happen. Don't listen to the media or the pols; don't buy in to the old saying, "Whoever misseth pol, lacketh wisdom." And disregard all smart alec slaugans like, "Free Nash." The Suns may not be a beuty chust yet, but we can't give up hope. My buddy, Trev, says that every basketball expert from Scott William to John Paxton says PHX is out of the playoffs, but I said, "Don't listen to William, Trev, or Paxton, or any other so-called 'expert.'" We need to have the same belief that parents have in their children, like a pa n a ma's undying trust that the kids will do right. I don't know wat catt, wat dogg--10 catts or doggs!--can make me stop looking to the future with hope!, as long as ALL THE BSOTS EDITORS AND STAFF WRITERS ARE HERE!! helping me hope!
I would write a hare moor, but it'd get 2Nashty trying to wax eloquently with everyone's name,--like the Jamaican said, "Wax, mon; key to success." But it would be like getting dust in AE milk. Noo! Noo! I won't do it! And I don't want to drag this out until it's frozen or dies of old age, like that old Latin expression, "Drag Icism, Agicism." So without further ado, I'll sing a song that's sung odd, put on Will's lavender shirt, head out to East Bay, raygun at the ready, for some McDonalds, BK, Jack-in-the-Box, or Taco John's,--Tony Roma has unbelievable ribs--, and then go smoke cigarettes behind the jim for 60 minutes during the jim coughen 'our.