Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: james harden

Bobs Having A Harden Time

“He’s looking right at me.”

Stay still, Bobby. James Harden’s vision is based on movement.

“Like an Argentinian?”

No, like a T-Rex.

“Very similar. T-Rex never got over the Falklands thing, either.”

I don’t know if that’s true.

“Phil sent me a Facebook link about it.”

Still. How’d you like the game?

“It was, uh, all right. Lots of back-and-forth. Shooting, passing, all kinds of action words. Very energetic sport. Plus, basketball’s the only non-glove sport. Baseball, hockey, football: gloves. Here, there’s nothing between the players’ hands and the fans. That creates a bond.”

I guess so.

“He’s still looking at me.”

Don’t move.

“I’m not. Not a twitch, except for talking to you and eating a hot dog.”

You’re good, then.

Picture A Basketball Just Spinning, Spinning Free

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Waiting for Dr. Funkenstein to make his appearance.”

You’re not at a P-Funk show, Bob. It’s an NBA game.

“Are you positive? This bearded fellow looks rather funky.”

That’s James Harden.

“His mouth gets lost in there.”

It’s a big beard.

“Oh, yeah. Now, uh, you’re sure this isn’t a P-Funk gig? I’m pretty sure I saw Parlet before.”

Those were cheerleaders.

“Ah. One more question.”

None of these men are Branford.

“Okee-doke.”