@coords The next 5 players in my mock after the Kings pick are all big men. I just think at that juncture in the first, that all the best players available are big men. If Jaylen Brown falls to them, I believe he is the pick. I think Ellenson fits the best out of all those big men, and gives the Kings a stretch big that they lack.
I've chronicled my Christmas shopping trips to the mall the past two years. In 2009, I nearly killed a Native American skateboarder, and then an old couple thought I was a smelly bum. The following December, I listed the 12 Jerks of Christmas.
I looked for 12 jerks this time, but I couldn't find that many. I went to Neshaminy Mall last Friday afternoon (the 16th), and it wasn't that crowded. There were fewer booths open, and there was no gay nail guys to harass me. In all honesty, I kind of missed them. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Worst of all, there weren't many hot chicks at the mall on that particular day. I spotted a few, but not nearly enough. I mean, who was I supposed to leer at, follow and/or stalk? Ugh.
Without many attractive women to distract me, my shopping objectives were clear. First stop: Barnes & Noble.
1. The Badass
I went into Barnes & Noble because my sister requested books. She has a space on this Web site called TheThingsIWant.com. She listed books and clothes, and since I don't even buy clothes for myself, I was just going to purchase most the books she posted on her page.
I find Barnes & Noble very confusing though. The place is so big, and there are so many sections. I was wandering around aimlessly when I overheard this fat Mexican woman yelling at a boy, presumably her son.
Fat Mexican Mom: Stop bein' a badass! You hear me? Stop actin' like a badass!
The Mexican boy, who was about 12 years old, was chewing on a straw. He also had a Pittsburgh Steeler hat tiled to the side like a rap artist or a crack head from the ghetto.
This kid was the epitome of cool. I almost wanted to ask him if he wanted to hang out later. Even Jerry Sandusky would have preferred to smoke stolen cigarettes with him in the woods rather than boinking him in the showers of a seedy locker room.
2. The Computer
I'm a man, so I hate asking help at a store. "No, pimply faced store clerk, I'll find what I'm searching for on my own, thank you."
The exception to this rule is if a hot chick asks if she can assist me in some way. I actually had this type of experience with Somewhat Cute Cashier from Bottom Dollar Food recently, but that's a story for another time.
I walked around Barnes & Noble for about 20 minutes and couldn't find a single book on my list. I was getting restless, so I finally broke down and decided to use the computer.
Unfortunately, I had to wait in line for the computer. There was a guy in his 60s wearing a plaid shirt using it. He spent five minutes doing the same thing over and over. He'd type something in, hit Enter, and then raise his arms in the air in disgust, almost as if he were cursing the high heavens.
He walked away looking frustrated after that. Minutes into using the computer, I understood why. Out of the 12 books I had on my list, only two were in stock. And when I went to go look for the books that were available in the specified section, they were nowhere to be found.
I don't get this. What kind of shady operation is Barnes & Noble running? The store is huge, so I don't understand why they can't have every book every created. How many books were ever written? Ten thousand? Maybe 11,000, tops? I will bet you anything that you can fit 11,000 books into Barnes & Noble. Those jerks have to get their act together.
3. Information Desk Worker
I didn't just go into Barnes & Noble for my sister. I wanted to buy the Game of Thrones book series for my mom because I thought she'd enjoy it. You would too, by the way. I highly recommend reading the books and watching the show on HBO. The first season should be out on DVD soon.
The Game of Thrones books were easier to unearth because I knew what they looked like. Unfortunately, I found only Books 1, 3 and 4 (there are five total).
I was fed up with Barnes & Noble at this point, so I just went to the information desk to ask if they carried the second and fifth books. It took an extreme amount of willpower to do this, but I had already spent too much time in the store, and there was a cheesesteak with my name on it waiting for me at the food court.
The guy behind the information desk was a typical pimply faced teenager. He had a lesbian-esque Justin Bieber hairdo (not that there's anything wrong with that).
Me: Hey, I found Books 1, 3 and 4. Do you have 2 and 5?
Information Desk Worker: Yeah, I'll get them for you now.
Me: Thanks, man.
The kid gave me a dirty look for some strange reason and went away somewhere. Seconds later, an older guy behind the information desk spoke to me.
Older Information Desk Worker: Are you being helped, sir?
Me: Yeah, the other guy went to find the books I was looking for.
Older Information Desk Worker crossed his arms and gave me a stern look.
Older Information Desk Worker: SHE will be right back!
Oops! I got the Information Desk Worker's gender confused, but I refuse to take any blame for this. As I wrote in my Lexus December to Remember entry, it should be illegal for any woman to have hair shorter than ear length.
You may think I'm joking, but I'm dead serious. What if I were a gay guy ("heterosexually challenged," if you want to be politically correct) and I asked Information Desk Worker out on a date? After a nice evening out, I would have gone back to her apartment, unzipped her pants and found no wang to play around with. Any gay guy's worst nightmare!
4. The Count of Neshaminy Mall
Information Desk Worker wasn't the only person at the mall whose sex I couldn't determine. There was a person ringing a bell and pleading for people to donate to breast cancer research near the wrapping station.
He/she had a mushroom cut and was pretty fat, so his/her breasts could have been actual hooters or man boobs.
I spent five minutes trying to determine what this person was, and I finally decided that he was a eunuch. I felt bad for him because his nut sack was removed, so I dropped a dollar in the bucket. It's the least I could do.
Someone who didn't pity the eunuch was a man I'd like to call the Count of Neshaminy Mall. He was waiting in line at the wrapping station when I first spotted him. He had jet black hair and a similarly colored goatee, only the middle part of his chin hair was completely white. It's like he was a bad guy straight out of a James Bond or Batman movie.
The Count of Neshaminy Mall had other dark features. He possessed black, soulless eyes. He had small earrings on each ear. He was also with his son, who had the same malevolent scowl.
I was convinced these people were pure evil, and my theory was confirmed when I saw their interaction with the eunuch.
Eunuch: Donate to breast cancer research!
The Count of Neshaminy Mall: HMPH!
The Count of Neshaminy Mall's Son: HA!
The Count of Neshaminy Mall and his evil son clearly want all people to die of breast cancer, so I felt like it was my duty to stop them once and for all.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out another dollar and dropped it into the eunuch's bucket. Ha! Take that, evil Count of Neshaminy Mall! I have foiled your plans!
5. Ice Cream Girl
There was a guy selling sports memorabilia stuff at a kiosk. He had cool personalized stuff, like photographs of sports locker rooms where you can put a customized name on the back of one of the jerseys. He noticed that I was browsing through his wares.
Sports Memorabilia Guy: Can I help you with anything?
Me: I'm going to get one of these for my dad, but I don't feel like carrying something big like this around, so I'll come back on my way out.
Sports Memorabilia Guy: OK, great, I'll be here all evening.
Minutes later, I recalled that my mom and I agreed to buy my dad a desktop computer for Christmas, so I wouldn't be able to get him one of the memorabilia pictures.
I would have felt bad about lying to Sports Memorabilia Guy, but I immediately noticed a woman conducting something that looked like a prayer near a trash can. As she closed her eyes and chanted something to herself, the bag she had with her fell into the trash can. She didn't seem to notice, but I wasn't going to say anything to her because I didn't want her to convert me into her trash can cult. Besides, you know how people drop pennies into the fountain? Maybe it was her goal to do this with the trash can.
I was still trying to process what was going on when I distracted by a whiny voice. It was coming from a fat girl of about 12 or 13.
Fat Girl: I wannnnnnnnnnna gooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!
Fat Girl's Mom: Soon, sweetie.
Fat Girl: But moooooommmm I wannnnnnnnnnna gooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!
Fat Girl's Mom: Soon!
Fat Girl: But moooooommmmmmmmmm !!!!!!!!
Fat Girl's Mom: I said soon!
The mom was having a conversation with another woman in front of a store, to the chagrin of the fat girl, who looked like a pig and sounded like Eric Cartman.
I pretended to text someone so I could listen in on what was going on.
Fat Girl's Mom: Jim's doing well. Just got a promotion.
Fat Girl's Mom's Friend: That's great, tell him I said hello!
Fat Girl: I wannnnnnnnnnna gooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!
Fat Girl's Mom: Soon! OK, I guess I should get going. She wants to get ice cream.
Fat Girl's Mom's Friend: Awwww, she wants to get ice cream!
All of this commotion was over ice cream. I'm ashamed of myself that I didn't predict that immediately.
6. Santa's Helpers
I wandered to the other side of the mall. There were many more kids here because that's where Santa was.
Two thoughts on the mall Santa:
First, I'll never understand why parents bring really young kids to see them. I'm talking about kids who are 1 or 2 years old. They're not going to remember visiting Santa at all. They don't even know who Santa is. All they realize is that they have to sit on a fat guy's knee and smell the alcohol on his breath as he speaks to them. You might as well take your young kids to see Jerry Sandusky. At least he won't be drunk.
Second, there's nothing more annoying than seeing crying brats running around, pooping and peeing everywhere, and making obnoxious noises. I want 4-6 children of my own someday, but I hate other peoples' kids more than anything.
So, why venture into the Santa portion of the mall? To see Santa's Helpers, of course! Santa's Helpers are always hot, like that blond one at the very end of those NFLShop.com Christmas commercials. I've never met her before, and I do not even know her name, but I can tell that she's my soul mate just by looking at her.
The Santa's Helpers at Neshaminy Mall that day definitely were not my soul mates. There were two of them, and both were fat.
I don't understand how this could have happened. Santa's the one who eats all the cookies, so how could his helpers possibly be overweight. Unless... of course... it was that damn Mrs. Claus, and her insistence that Santa has to go on a strict diet. No more cookies for him meant more cookies for his (former) hot helpers.
Thanks a lot, Mrs. Claus, you old b***h, you completely ruined Christmas for me.
I sulked away and walked back toward the mall exit. I saw Sports Memorabilia Guy along the way. He seemed hopeful that I would buy something, but I just kept strolling along. I looked back once I passed him, and he scowled at me.
Looks like someone will be asking for the Count of Neshaminy Mall's assistance to get revenge against me. In that case, I may need to drop another dollar into the eunuch's bucket.