Chain Saws, Pea Gravel & Rick Pitino

    BobLee
    January16/ 2000

    …. Guys who sell chain saws appreciate tornados.  Guys who sell windshields appreciate dump trucks carrying pea gravel down the highway.  Guys like me who entertain folks like you really appreciate Rick Pitino this week.  When circumstances make our jobs easier we’re happy.  Philandering per se is a moral misdemeanor.  Having consenual sex with a psycho two-bagger…. on a table is plumb foolish.

    Rick Pitino is one of the top five most successful college basketball coaches in America today.  Pretty much EVERYBODY who follows college basketball has heard of him and has some opinion of him.  Unless your school is Louisville you probably don’t like Rick Pitino.  No college basketball fan EVER likes any coach but his/her own and even that is conditional on whether his/her own lived up to unrealistic expectations last Spring.

    Most sports fans are spewing root beer out of their nose over Rick’s rather indelicate indiscretion as revealed earlier this week.

    To those who say “how could Pitino forget five minutes of monkey sex with a skank on a table in a restaurant in 2003?”  I would say why in the name of Dr James Naismith would Pitino ever want to remember such an incident.

    The Skank on The Table has a name.  Its Karen Sypher or so she says.  Other possibilities are Secretariat, Seattle Slew or “that girl in 9th grade English with eczema”.  She was described earlier in the week as “a former model and auto-glass salesperson.”  You KNOW that got BobLee’s attention right then and there.

    Buddies AND Babes we have all arrived at this very time and space via many many different roads.  It would be overly presumptuous of me to say “let he/she who has NOT had five minutes of monkey sex on a table in a restaurant with a person of marginal physical attractiveness” cast the first stone.  But lets be more generic and simply say “haven’t 99% of us deleted a few incidents from our cranial hard drives”?  And don’t most of us wish we could delete a few more but the abject degenerate horror of the incident was forever seared into our retina memory by demon conscious.

    If you’ve lived life for a quartet or more of decades with even a modicum of joie de vi you would have something to add to this discussion if I opened it up for individual soul-cleansing.  That’s never a good idea by the way.  We tried it in a men’s fellowship group I was a member of a while back.  One fellow got possessed by the muse of guilty conscience.  Before you could say Whoa Nellie he took us all along on his personal retrospective journey thru masturbation, porn, and innumerably bizarre sexual experiences.  All’s I could think of was Lewis Grizzard’s bit “Bubba, I don’t believe I’d a told that one”.

    So, I can appreciate Rick’s reluctance to admit his frolic with the frightening fraulein in that aforementioned restaurant.

    This Pitino story has all sorts of bizarre tangents as one might expect.  This quite intense woman (see picture attached) was not only of marginal physical loveliness …. she was/is at least a full quart low in the sanity department.  Your concept of women who have five minutes of monkey sex with famous basketball coaches on restaurant tables may be different from mine but I never imagine them having a Mensa key hanging from their navel ring.  This one definitely did not.

    Speaking of “visuals” I’m betting Rick kept his shoes AND socks on for this on.  I’m seeing RP with trou around his ankles and at the moment of climax screaming “DAMN YOU LAETTNER!”  What his quite insane co-coital participant mighta yelled was not recorded.  She screamed “GIVE ME $10,000,000” but that was later.

    Surely you’ve heard that Rick either (1) paid for her supposed abortion or (2) her health insurance premium or (3) a whole lot of penicillin for himself or combination of the three.  Personally Rick had me at “….. former auto-glass salesperson”.  Any other details were unnecessary.

    Obviously the biggest question is how quickly can The U of Louisville white-out the morals clause in Rick’s contract.  I applaud the U of L’s president comment on said clause ….. “how tha hell did that get in there?”  The head honcho of the Cardinal Club argues that the act itself with said scary skank was more than sufficient punishment and proposed a bonus for Rick for having the cajones to “man up” about it.

    That Pitino could ever be fired or otherwise disciplined for his indiscretion is ludicrous.  An unidentified Cardinal player remarked off-the-record “If Coach can’t answer a simple booty call what’s next …… expecting us to go to class?  Get real America.”

    Much is being made about Rick’s previously well-crafted image as a “pious Catholic” and husband and father of (at least) five.  It’s like if Rick’s little restaurant romp had been with an altar boy then no biggie.

    I credit Friday USAToday with THE best line about Rick and his relative piety and Vatican connection.

    …… “Pitino is a practicing Catholic who has a priest travel with the team. There was a picture in the team media guide last year showing Pitino with the pope.” ……  (NOW THAT is a money line!)

    ACC fans especially of the Franklin Street variety have long declared that Coach K is a practicing Satanist who has a voodoo priest travel with the team along with a coop of live chickens and a billy goat.  A picture of K with Vlad The Impaler and Wojo’s Aunt Lucy is in the Duke media guide. 

    This sordid Pitino Tale obviously will have an extended shelf live well into the next decade.   The monkey sex partner is now making new “claims” by the hour.  She is promising that additional liaisonees who have seen “Little Ricky” up close and personal will be “coming out of the woodwork”.  She actually used that phrase “coming out of the woodwork”.

    Meanwhile down the road in Lexington splinters guaranteed to be from THE ACTUAL TABLE are going for $126 a piece on ebay.  Neither Ashley Judd nor John Calipari can stop laughing long enough to issue an official statement.

    >>>>>

     

       Some days this don’t seem like a job.  This was such a day.

     

    >>>>>>

     

    OK …. Decision time …. For Buddies only.

    “Desert Island” …… one year all alone with

    Rielle Hunter ….. Squeaky Fromme … or … Karen Sypher

    Just Vote don’t try to explain your choice

    >>>>>>

    BobLee

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