The Ides of March Madness are Upon Us!

My wife is wayyyyyyy into Alabama Head Coach, Anthony Grant. 

My picks: Kentucky, Mizzou, Ohio State and Georgetown.

With Mizzou knocking off the Buckeyes in the finals!

My wife's picks: Kentucky, Mizzou, Syracuse and UNC.

With Kentucky beating 'Cuse ... at least, that's what she had before Fab Melo got suspended. I honestly haven't talked to her in like, three days.

Click this jawn to see my picks, dawg!

And this is my wife's brack. 

NOPE! No All-Star Weekend for Me, Thanks!

Oh, y'know, it'll be hosted by Valeria, Jasmin, Dana and WANKAEGO!

This weekend is BY FAR my favorite weekend of the year: NBA All Star Weekend. (And how 'bout the fact that I just used to word "weekend" three times in the opening sentence!)

HOWEVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR, I will be missing the Slam Dunk Contest and 3-Point Shootout on Saturday night because I have to go out to dinner with a bunch of white people.

IT'S REASONS LIKE THIS, my friends, that I started this dogshit-blorg in the first place ... because suckers like me get married (I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH HONEY) and our lives get sucked out from our souls and tucked into tight khaki pants for a night out with "friends."

Now, I must make it clear that my wife TOTALLY gave me the green light to get outta this Saturday night's festivities (that's being called "New iPhone app: Dinner with Friends" on our email chain), but after thinking about it carefully and prayerfully, I (and only me) ultimately decided that friendship and getting out and living life was more important than staying home and watching Deron Williams dribble around a bunch of cones.

WHAT A FUCKING DUMB DECISION THAT WAS!

Beebs definitely checking a secret, slutty text. 

Some of my fondest memories from growing up revolve around sitting on my mother's friend Marion's couch (we didn't have cable, so I had to go there to watch TBS), eating those chocolate carmel Nips candies (so hard at first and then soooooo gooey!) and watching Kenny Walker (and his amazing flat-top AND GOLD CHAIN) do windmill 360s! Or Craig Hodges's 19 straight three-balls in 1991!!! And then coming back the next year and defending his title DESPITE not even being on an NBA roster ... remember, he wore that generic NBA jersey! ... who am I even writing this to? ... there's no way the four Texas girls who read this blog know who Craig Hodges is! ... BUT THEY SHOULD!!!

And yeah yeah yeah, I know, I know, the dunk contest started sucking in the mid-90's, but then VINCE ... and then it sucked again ... but then DWIGHT! (I was at my Mother-in-Law's Brooklyn apartment for Superman's display AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A TELEVISION) ... and then last year BLAKE JUMPED OVER A CAR -- and yeah, he only jumped over the front of it, but Baron Davis WAS SITTING IN THE CAR AND THREW BLAKE AN OOP OUT OF THE SUNROOF!!!





In 2002, All Star Weekend was here in Philly and my buddy Rev and I decided to take a walk down to the Marriott downtown where all the players and celebs were staying. I'm not sure what our intention was, I guess we just wanted to be part of the action, maybe see a few players and entertainers or have sex with some of the women who were there trying get pregnant, but the entire hotel was blocked off. Luckily, I've seen a bunch of those Ocean's Whatever movies and know that there's always a way to sneak past security. So I went into the hotel restaurant (entrance was on the street), pretended to go to the bathroom, started pushing on a bunch of unmarked doors and then wammo!

The door opened up to the middle of this longgggggggggggggggg, empty hallway; 30 yards to the left was the hotel atrium: a bar, the concierge desk, a fountain, etc ... and 30 yards to the right was the VIP players/celebrities entrance. And just as I popped out, Method Man was heading my way.

As non-chalantly as possible, I started walking side-by-side with Meth. It's always a little awkward when you're walking RIGHT next to a stranger down a longgggg corridor, let alone a stranger who just popped out of some unsuspecting door, or a stranger who happens to be a member of the Wu Tang Clan, but eventually as we were walking I felt the need to say SOMETHING.

So I turned to Meth and said, "So Meth, when you see your friends later, are you gonna tell them that you walked down a hallway with me today?"

I'm not sure if he got it (I actually thought it was a pretty good line), but he just kinda looked at me and went, "Yeah," and then we went our separate ways at the hotel lobby.





But no hob-knobbing with rap stars for me this weekend! Nope, just some chicken tikka masala with people named "Brian" and "Amanda." Adding pain to heartache is the fact that Sundee's All Star Game IS ON AT THE SAME TIME as the Oscars!

Not even like, "Oh, well, you can watch the first half and then switch over to the Academy Awards, because the game starts an hour earlier," NO, BECAUSE THE RED CARPET STUFF IS MY WIFE'S FAVORITE PART.

I guess I could go to a friend's house, BUT I KINDA LIKE THE RED CARPET STUFF TOO (and I think my friends do also).

If there's one silver lining to missing All Star Weekend, it's that I won't have to watch the ONSLAUGHT of ads promoting Tyler Perry's new movie. At some point, one of us white people is gonna HAVE TO watch a Tyler Perry movie, just so we can understand what the hell is going on in the world. My wife and I actually attempted to watch around 15 minutes of one of his flicks on TBS one afternoon and it was EXACTLY what you'd expect it to be.

A black family from Chicago headed down south for a distant family member's funeral and were picked up at a bus stop in Alabama by a few of their long-lost relatives. And of course these southern relatives were goofy as hell and lived in a country house without air conditioning and then some other relative who wore a suit and had a good job and nice teeth came in and smiled at one of the Chicago women. Not one person was wearing khakis.

I GOTTA GET FUCKING DVR ALREADY!

JESUSSSSSSSSS

CHRIST!




JUMPMAN: MELO EXPLOSIVE FLIGHT BTS from klipcollective on Vimeo.


I know no one ever watches videos in these posts, but all three of the ones I embedded are FANTASTIC. Especially this one right above here, made for Carmelo's Knicks debut and release of his new sneaker. So you should watch them. Orrrrrrrrrr, if you haven't done so yet, you should vote in the poll on the TVMWW homepage. As of now, "I want to start going to bed at a reasonable hour" is in the lead! Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr look at this picture of the biggest jerk of an older brother I've ever seen.

Kiki: so pasty! And Detlef's stache! And why did Coop ALWAYS have his drawstring out?

Pretty sure the guy in the front row all the way on the right once tried to sell me life insurance.

Good thing Michael Adams put his knee brace on ... 
and WHO is #12 and WHAT TEAM does he play for, the Conshohocken Colonels?!?!

Larry Nance obviously farted here.

Games My Wife Likes: Rocks, Paper, Scissors

This is a thing?!?!

Every night when my wife and I go to bed, we turn the heat down in our house to around 63 degrees.

Well, "weeee" don't do it, my wife does. It doesn't take two people to turn heat down now, does it? But I support her doing it because we both like sleeping in a cooler temperature (and it also saves money).

But last night as we nuzzled in bed, we quickly realized that it was a bit warmer than usual.

My Wiiiiiife:  Did you turn the heat down?

Me:  You know the answer to that question.

So as we laid there in silence, comfy and warm and refusing to budge, it was obvious that someone was gonna have to go downstairs to lower the temp.

Now it must be stated that my wife has taken on the role of heat-turner-downer in our home, just like she's also taken the lead on checking to see if the stove's turned off every night, and that the front door is locked, and then back to the stove, check the oven, make sure nothing's on fire, slam the fridge closed once or twice to ensure that it's sealed, then come upstairs and set her alarm 37 times before taking one last peek at the door to "yep, still locked, okay, no murderers coming in tonight."

But I knew my wife had had a longgggggggggggg day -- work, then class til 9:30 -- and I could tell she was stressed by the way she shoved a bagel down her throat when she got home just after 10, so I thought about just getting outta bed and doing a good Christian deed.

But then five words jumped out of my mouth ... "Rocks, Paper, Scissors for it?"

Stanley Dorfman (2nd from R, front row) has deep, deep emotional problems. 

Boom!

My wife sprung to life! Not literally, she still laid there like a slug. We both did. If we had sat up and turned the lights on, it would've defeated the whole purpose of why we were playing. So we decided to play Rocks Paper Scissors VERBAL edition, where you have to SAY what you're throwing as opposed to physically shooting it.

After one practice round to make sure we understood how the Verbal edition would work (we first tried "Rocks, Paper, Scissorsssssss, shoot!" and THEN saying what we were shooting, but quickly changed it to just "Rocks, Paper, Scissorsssssss," and then blurting out either rocks, papes or scizzies).

We went best of 3, but the contest lasted around 14 rounds because of shooting the same thing over and over -- we had 5 consecutive ties during the first 5 rounds! My wife is good, she's a solid Rocks, Paper, Scissors player, but I am the king, and the longer the game went, the more I wore her down and got into her head, and eventually she got tired and slipped up, because if there's one thing my wife's not, it's a fighter. She's a cheater and a liar and a poor sport, but if she's not having fun, she'll lay down and give in, and eventually I brought it home with a 2-1 victory (coming back from an 0-1 deficit!).

But here's the kicker folks, here's why you read the last seven paragraphs of absolute garbage ... after she LOST the contest, my wife REFUSED to go down and turn the heat off!

I was livid.

You see, my wife is a TERRIBLE competitor and has a MAJOR attitude problem, qualities I blame on the fact that she did orchestra as a kid as opposed to playing organized athletics. It's infuriating (and sort of hilarious).

When I protested, she claimed, "Well you still have the satisfaction of winning," (which was true!) and then went on a rant, "Oh, yeah, sure, I should go turn the heat down, because I don't do anything around here. I don't cook or clean and I don't pay the bills, and yeah, I wasn't in class til 9:30 tonight, it's fine, I'll just do everything around here, because those dishes in the sink, you'll probably do 'em, just like you said you'd do your taxes you dirty dick."

Eventually, after I threw the word "integrity" around a little bit and in my most serious tone told her I'd be less apt to play games like that with her in the future, she rolled over, let out a grunt, got up, went downstairs and turned the heat down.

When she got back to bed, she grabbed all the covers, turned her back to me and not another word was spoken for the rest of the night.

But we both knew what the other person was thinking ...

DON'T EVER ...

EVER ...

CHALLENGE THE EVSTER TO ROCKS, PAPER, SCISSORS!







My wife's response after reading this post ...


"I like it, except the end. Because you're not as good at rock paper scissors as you think. Also, one MORE correction. It's only when I don't see any gain in something for myself that I give up.  At that point ... at 11:41 at night, after working ALL day, then going to FIVE HOURS of class, oh AND TAKING A MIDTERM MODELED ON THE LICENSING EXAM ... then sitting through another class, and driving myself home, and then a few hours later after realizing that it didn't really matter who won ... it was at THAT point that I let my razor sharp rocks, paper, scissors technique slide. And you can print that motherfucker!"



Wanna read some more stuff about Rocks, Paper, Scizz? Check out this article from the NYT about a $50,000 tourney in Vegas. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, check out this rock that looks like an elephant!

Thursday's Wifey: The Lady Who Was Sitting Next to Doc Rivers at the Duke-UNC Game

Last night, after Austin Rivers's buzzer-beating, back-breaking, something that starts with a B followed by something else that starts with a B three-pointer downed UNC, his father Doc was seeing going absolutely bonkers in the stands with a very attractive leopard-printed woman.

Of course, knowing that Doc is a former NBA All-star and current coach, I assumed this was his wife. But after a quick Google image search, I realized that Doc happens to be married to Willie Nelson's daughter.

Is she holding that dog's ear? ... She's totally holding that dog's ear!

So if that wasn't Doc's wife, I figured maybe it was Dell Curry's wife (whose son also plays for Duke). I remember her getting some serious air time when Steph was making that Final Four run for Davidson, but I also remember her being an intellectual and I don't think intellectuals wear leopard prints.

Also, why would Doc have his arm around Mrs. Curry?!?!

If they have that kinda relationship, that's great, it's nice for players' parents to bond, but if I were Willie Nelson and my son in law was arm-in-arm with some leopard-printed lady, I'd want some answers.

I guess sometimes crazy things happen during crazy celebrations. Once, after a high school basketball game, some Indian chick with a nose ring kissed me on the cheek as the fans rushed the court. It was pretty exhilarating, partially because her culture forbid her to ever kiss a Jew, but also because that Jew was secretly wearing leopard print panties underneath his uniform.

This is Dell's wife (and Steph and Seth Curry's mom). This can't be the woman next to Doc at the game because that woman was super hot and this woman has AN UNBELIEVABLY LONG NECK and I'm not saying that to make fun of her, I'm just saying this lady's neck is MUCH longer than any other neck I've ever seen, which includes the neck of the lady in the stands with Doc!

Just further proof that Sonya Curry was NOT locking arms with Doc (and also proof that the Curry family dynamic is WEIRD). "Hey Steph, I know you're on the verge of signing a lucrative NBA deal, but come sit on Mommy's lap." I mean, the Currys live in a blatant mansion, they couldn't have gotten one more chair for the photo?!?! There's probably a perfectly good deck chair (and who knows what other amazing outdoor furniture) right next to them on that patio. But no, little Stephy's gonna sit in Mommy's lap.

Could thisssssssssssss be the woman on Doc's arm?

This is Callie Rivers, Doc's daughter, who DEFINITELY looks like she's got a couple leopard print outfits in her wardrobe. There's also a pretty good chance that when she went out this night, 14 different Jewish guys tried to roofie her.

THIS IS WILLIE NELSON'S GRANDDAUGHTER, FOLKS!!

Honestly shocked that of all the people pictured in this post, that Muscles Marinara here isn't the one wearing leopard print. And isn't black slimming? What's this guy thinking?!?!?

Before we rule out Sonya Curry, probably smart to look back at what she looked like as a college volleyball player and HER NECK HAS GOTTEN LONGER, HASN'T IT?!?!

DO NECKS GROW?

I KNOW THAT NOSES AND EARS AND MY TWO VOLLEYBALLS CURRENTLY RESTING RIGHT NOW IN MY LEOPARD PRINTS DO, BUT NECKS TOO?!?!?

I'm gonna go ahead and say that the woman with Doc was NOT Sonya Curry, but Doc's daughter, Callie.

So now that we've settled that, can we discuss ...

WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE CURRY FAMILY?!?!

I honestly have no idea what kind of pose Steph is giving us here. Does Monte* Ellis know about this picture? He looks like he just told his wife that before they get married he wants her to know that he only wears leopard print panties.

(Monte is actually spelled Monta ... see comments below)

Just standing on a bench by a tree, that's all. Not that big of a deal. Just taking a couple shots here with my soon-to-be husband and thought that a standing bench shot would be nice. My dress is getting filthy in these bushes, but it's cool, we got the bench shot. Yeah, Steph's thinking. He's a big Rodin fan. Are the hors d'oeuvres being passed yet?

Another sad sap forced to carry his woman's bag.

Although, I kinda feel like Steph was the one doing the shopping.

By the way, if you haven't seen Will Ferrell introducing the starting lineups from last night's Hornets-Bulls game yet, you need to watch it now.

The Grammys are this weekend. If you feel like reading my Grammy post from last year, click here. Or just check out the only hors d'oeuvres you'll ever need.

Wednesday's Wifey: Abby Manning (nee McGrew)

What's softer? The skin on Abby's calves or Eli's shoes?

Oh, Eli.

Behind every great man is an even greater woman. And behind every quarterback who still sleeps with stuffed animals is a woman who probably makes him chicken nuggies every night for din-din.

Let's meet Abby Manning, this week's Wednesday Wifey.

I've never seen two better-folded Knicks rally towels in my entire life. What must their home look like? Magazines fanned out at a 15 degree angle on the coffee table, brand new shell soap in the powder room, dixie cups to rinse with, khakis, lots of khakis.

And what about the dude behind them with the Wolf Man beard? What does HIS apartment look like? Chinese food containers strewn around the living room, a woman chained up in the basement, a bunch of herbal teas, bloody khakis, lots of bloody khakis.

Interesting choice of attire for a day at the amusement park. I always thought cutoff shirts and shorts (with an extra pair of underwear in your cargo pockets) was standard operating proceej. I mean, how are they possibly gonna go on the log flume?!?!

And who is taking this picture?!?!

Is there a guy in the (ROCKET SHIP?) in front of them who undid his safety belt so he could turn around and snap this shot? You know what they say, "Great photographers go to great lengths for great photos."

Obviously no one says that, but for some reason I thought I heard someone say that once, so on a camping trip a few years ago with my buddy Parm, I kept saying that every time I bent down or crouched to take a picture. Parm then started saying it too, until he accidentally dropped his camera into a creek while trying to navigate some slippery rocks. My throwaway camera from the trip is still in my trunk (film was never developed) right next to some dirty socks and an old Hustler magazine.

When your wife ruins her nice clothes on a log flume, she gets upset. And when she gets upset, you're forced to carry her shopping bag for her. Poor guy.

Also ladies, there is NOTHING WORSE than being forced to carry some dumb bag from some dumb place. A few weeks ago, I had to take my lunch to work in a Banana Republic bag (IT'S ALL WE HAD!) and had to withstand the longest subway ride of my life. I kept making eye contact with this terrifying (read: black) guy wearing a UNLV Starter jacket. The jacket was actually amazing.

Props to Eli for going untucked though, I didn't know he had it in him.

To make it up to your wife, sometimes you need to take her to the Sex and the City premiere. Smart move by Eli to keep his right hand locked and loaded in prime karate chopping position.

Lotttttttttttta tucked-in shirts and khakis at the McGrew family garden party. My wife's head would explode if she were forced to attend this ... that lady ABHORS khakis (and white people). 

I feel kinda baaaaaad for ripping on Eli, because I kinda like the guy! He's an above average quarterback, could potentially win his second Super Bowl this weekend, and he's got a totally smoking hot wife who's into Knicks games, amusement parks, garden parties, manicures, yellow skirts, taking her husband's name, letting her husband wear jeans when they go out to dinner, shaving her underarms, dudes who definitely subscribe to Hustler ...

AND SHE'S COOL WITH ELI WEARING THOSE TRUNKS!

WOW!

And how 'bout your boy in the hat with the earflaps?!!? Someone's gotta blow up this picture and tell me what book Eli is reading. Part of me thinks it might be Three Cups of Tea, but it also kinda looks like a Caddyshack DVD.

WHAT KINDA WAY IS THAT TO PUT YOUR HAND IN YOUR POCKET?!?!

He definitely has swamp ass! 

FUCK TOM BRADY!



Rememberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, this week I'm giving away a FREE MOTHERFUCKING PIZZA to a random commenter, so be sure to comment below. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr check out the latest style being rocked by Indian school kids! 

Wednesday's Wifey: Readers' Choice: Steffi Graf (Yep, Steffi Graf)

Andre Aggs with his most prized bucket of crystal meth. 

This is the first-ever Readers' Choice edition of Wednesday's Wifey.

Earlier this morning, I asked followers on Faceblork and Twittles to send in their suggestions for today's Wifey. Moments after doing so, I got really really really nervous that no one would respond, so I sent a mass text to around twenty friends asking them to comment on Faceblork which would hopefully get the ball rollin' and at least make it look like some people actually read TV Me Weef Wooches. 

The people I texted were very carefully selected, like my wife and my friend Thad who's really nice because he grew up on a farm. The rest of the chosen people were also really nice, the kind of people who bring over a box of Entenmann's cookies when they come over "just because." If I were to have asked my closest friends to help me out, I would've received a barrage of texts saying, "eat a dick."

By the way, is there ANYTHING WORSE than when you're involved in an email chain and you're really excited and you keep replying to all and then someone responds "unsubscribe" to your message? It's such a dick move. My friends are notorious for this. I honestly hate them. I wish I grew up on a farm (and had a bigger dick).

Those that did respond gave some really great suggestions, such as:

Halle Berry (recently engaged)
Torrie Wilson (A-Rod's new girl)
My friend Annie (suggested by Annie)
Brent Celek's wife (apparently she's a boxer)
and Lady Bird Johnson

A few people (read: idiots) didn't really understand the purpose of my text (to get them to respond ON FACEBOOK) and texted me suggestions like Jelena Ristic part II, Selena Gomez and Jessica Rabbit.

Ultimately, I decided to go with Steffi Graf, suggested by @JesseFederman.

Let's do dis!

Steffi Graf is a great choice for Wednesday's Wifey because she's such an enigma -- no one has any idea if she's hot or not. At times it seems like she's not even close to attractive, and at other times (like pictured here listening to a wall) she looks amazing.

Another shot of Steffi sort-of looking beautiful (great layers in her hair!), but then again, also kinda ... whoa whoa whoa ... check out the dude? sitting in front of Steffi!

WHAT KIND OF HAIRCUT/GLASSES COMBO IS THAT?

That's seriously is the strangest looking upper half-of-a-head I've ever seen. A bowl-cut AND tinted glasses? I think that might be Salman Rushdie in disguise. What up Salman!

I mean for all intents and purposes this is a beautiful woman. She's so long! Based on just this picture alone, she would've gone in the late lottery of the 2001 NBA draft. You telling me the Super Sonics couldn't have used Steffi at small forward instead of Vladimir Radmanovic? Not disrespect to Vlad -- dude has a buttermilk jumpshot -- but you can't teach length! I SORT OF WANT TO LICK HER SHINS!

Again, seemingly pretty, nice cleave, totally hairless, but she doesn't even know how to put on a shoe!

STEFFI, THERE'S A PERFECTLY GOOD COUCH THERE (and it's leather!). HAVE A SEAT AND PUT YOUR SHOE ON PROPERLY. WHY WOULD YOU PUT YOUR SHOES ON STANDING UP? ESPECIALLY THOSE!

Steffi happens to suffer from a chronic case of Itchy Shin Syndrome, as shown here by her scratching her shin with the bottom of her sneaker (which is really the only way to scratch an itchy shin). But should a world class athlete like Mrs. Agassi really need to balance herself on her son?!?!? Such an enigma!

THIS GUY IS SO MUCH MORE EXCITED TO BE WITH THE GIRL ON THE RIGHT THAN WITH STEFFI (and you really can't blame him, can you?). Poor Steffi, definitely not her best look. Like a poor man's Detlef Schrempf.

So it seems like the key to Steffi's hotness is: the more leg and butt she's showing, the more attractive she is. But that's probably true for most women (with the exception of Barbara "Baboon Butt" Jenkins who seriously has a baboon butt). And I don't know where St. Vincent is, but $1.25 seems a little steep for a stamp!!!

Natural beauty!

But also has talon-hands!  

Such a sanitary kitchen! Where's the mail?!?!

You go girl with the little side-boob action! Let's put this debate to rest ... the verdict is in: Steffi Graf is a bonafide smokedog when showing some sort of leg or butt and I honestly can't stop staring at that side-boob. Side-boob is the new boob. Well, boob is still the new boob, but side-boob is great too. Is that even side-boob? That's not even side-boob.

Seiny is so happy here!

And whose shoulder is to the right of Steffi's?!?!?

We'll never know!!!

I honestly have no idea if anyone reads this blog. My blogger sabermetrics are all facacta because I get 500 hits a day from people searching for pictures of Coco's cocos. Regardless, thanks so much for reading. Here's a group of amazing amazing amazing pictures. 

CHARLES BARKS IS HOSTING SNL THIS SATURDAY!

Does Manute have a couple bucks rolled up in his sock?

TVMWW's role models:

1. Charles Barkley
2. Eazy-E
3. Cookie Monster
4. General Tso
5. The Guy Who Invented Socks













And Saturday's musical guest:

Rondo?

Wednesday's Wifey: LeBron's Fiancée Savannah Brinson

My mother would've had a freaking heart attack if I ever played basketball that close to the edge of the pool. 

Just two weeks after the Black Mamba's wife Vanessa filed for divorce (and gets HALF BABY HALF of his dough), LeBronski decided to take the plunge with his longtime girlfriend and mother of his children, Savannah Brinson.

Bron-Bron and Savannah have been together since high school, although I imagine (AND THIS IS PURELY SPECULASHE) that he's done some sniffing and snorfing on the side in the past decade. But now the King is settling down, with a woman who may or may not have a thigh tattoo.

Let's go!

You gotta admire a woman in a blazer, especially if that woman is younger than 55 years old. And how 'bout the fact that she decided to pair it with a pin?!?! My Aunt Maxine would totally approve of this outfit. Personally, I like the dude behind Savannah, who decided to go sans-undershirt for the evening. That'swhatI'mtalkin'bout Smooth Operator! But if you just undid one more button, SO MUCH MORE EXHILARATING!

See now Bronski, you gotta be careful who you allow your wife to hang out with. I don't let my wife ever even come close to any Austrians, let alone one who impregnated his housekeeper. I really like how you can tell that Maria is kinda muttering through that fake smile, "Get your furkin' hands off me you furkin' prick, I'm only here to make you look good and meet black men. I still want half motherfurker, HALF."

C'mon LBJ!

Are you cereal?!?!? These people are NOT good influences on your marriage! And how do these women have such strong calves?!?!

"Okay okay LeBron, get in there get in there, yeah that's perfect and Mary J? Mary J if you and your husband could just get a little tighter and yeah, pick your chin up a bit, don't wanna show the double, that's nice, real nice, and Savannah, you're good, just put your left arm down at your side, love your makeup by the way, and Mr. Blige, exactly, exactly, just off of Mary's shoulder and yeah, white lady, yeah, white lady, if could you just stand right there on Savannah's left and look like you absolutely don't belong in this picture yeah that'd be perfect, and make a weird face for me, yep, got it, yep, one more! Got it!"

All that posing for pictures and hanging out with adulterers can be exhausting. Sometimes you need to just get away, go for a dip and the ocean and have your all-star future husband stretch out your rotator cuff. Although there's a chance that Bronny is simply trying to get an underwater hand-j. (Can't blame him for that, you honestly can't.)

Whoa. Was not expecting a shin tattoo out of the future Queen James. But y'know what? As far as shin tattoos go, I kinda like it! This was found on Savannah's Faceblork page by the way and I'm not making that up.

Classy lady! 

And how 'bout those lines in LBJ's head?! I know everybody hates LeBron these days, but I really really like him. Below is a very dramatic / boring video of him jumping off a platform into a swimming pool in Barcelona. 

Just playing the fiddle with my good pal CP3 on the mic! 

Forget about Savannah and her ring, how 'bout the dude in the upper left-hand corner of the shot? (Who also happens to be going sans-undershirt.) "What's going on down there? Is that a camera? What's that, one of those cameras?" 

HOW MANY WOMEN DO THESE GUYS NEED? Just the three for Chris Bosh, that's all. Unless that white lady with the terrible dress belongs to D-Wade, but I can't imagine that's possible. Chris Bosh is also the only asshole in Miami who apparently wears an undershirt.  

And now for the Thigh Tattoo Queen of Philadelphia!

And now for someone completely different!

For the record, I actually love wearing undershirts (v-necks). THAT'S REALLY INTERESTING, ISN'T IT?!?! Check out this squirrel!