Fun with the Bryants

So, Kobe Bryant is still playing for his freedom.  No matter who you root for, if you deny the fact that he is one of the most dynamic players in the game today, you’re really just being a hater.  I don’t mean a hater of the, “You have the superior argument, but I want to get this dig in” variety.  This is a hater of the, “I just don’t like that mofo, and he could cure cancer and I STILL wouldn’t get down with his punk ass” sort.  Every jump shot, every free throw, every rebound, steal, fast break and three pointer, he is screaming, “HOW ABOUT NOW BITCHES?! ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? ARE WE COOL YET? FUCK!”

Tonight the Lakers won their second straight NBA Championship, with Kobe as the undisputed MVP.  But that wasn’t what stood out to me.  Because I don’t really follow Kobe for basketball.  I follow Kobe for my favorite show:  The Bryants.

I would be remiss if I did not share the endless laughter Kobe brought me when he took those photos that made him look like the love child of Smeagol and The Great Gazoo.  The only thing funnier than the photo shoot itself, was how creative people got by PhotoShopping Kobe EVERYWHERE.  Kobe was a member of DeBarge, Kobe was in Sparta, Kobe killed Jimmy Hoffa.  It was EPIC!  They shouldn’ta never gave you n****s laptops!  And as funny as that was…

…Vanessa Effing Bryant.  Where does one even begin with this chick?  Let’s first talk about the attire of her and the kids.  They are at a sporting event, yet they are dressed in a manner in which I have never seen.  Actually I have seen it.  In every Olan Mills picture ever.  The amount of velvet, tulle, sequins and generalized shiny crap is astounding.  Originally I believed the kids were participating in a secret pageant that no one else was aware of – possibly with Charles Barkley as a judge.  “V’nessuh, I have to first say, that dress at last night’s game was turrble.  Now, with the help of my brother, The Hatian Sensation, I realize there is a much darker rationale.

Vanessa Bryant is the queen of the Italian undead.  Before Madonna pops up and says, “Bitch don’t even,” please note that I have this on good authority.  Anne Rice is right here, she peeped over my shoulder, gave me the head nod and said “fa sho.”  (Author’s Note:  Anne Rice was not harmed during the writing of this post.)  As anyone with knowledge of the undead knows, they cast no reflection.  However, as my brother pointed out, she is never in pictures without the children.  How does this relate to their shiny regalia?  Well, it has been infused with special reflective crystals that bounce off of Madame Vanessa and make her visible in photos.  You don’t become queen of the damned without having some smarts, you know.

Never forgive him America.  Never. Because the aftermath has made me smile!

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