Monday, January 7, 2008

Baron Davis' Beard Speaks

Fuck Hilton Armstrong's face.

Who the hell does he think he is, coming with that weak wispy scruff? I'm Boomdiddy's Beard, mother fucker! There's only room for one man-beard in this league and I got that shit on lockdown. If I had legs and arms, I'd jump right off this chin and pluck those little face pubes one-by-one. Hilton Armstrong. Shit.

He's like a skanky socialite mixed with an Astronaut. What is that -- Hilton Armstong. Averaging 3 points and 2 rebounds - That's Brian Scalabrine territory. Scalabrine! Now that's a beard who knows his place. He keeps his shit nice and Rico Suave.

When Vlade Divac graciously rode his beard into the sunset I knew my time would come. It wouldn't be long until Boomdiddy realized that the NBA needed that manly Magngumesque musk to dominate. I was just waiting for the call. And it came, motherfuckers. It came on the heels of an three-night bender in Vegas. Baron woke up, realized his missed his shaving window of opportunity and just let me ride. He rode my ass all the way to the Western Conference Finals last year.

Now that bitch Armstrong is trying to steal my sexual thunder. I'm Boomdiddy's beard! It don't get no sexier than that! You try to guard my man too close and I'll give you rug burn worse than a night with Janis Joplin.

What has Hilton Armstrong's beard done for him, besides make him look like a grown up Carlton Banks? Hilton Armstrong, you better take that scruffy shit you call facial hair to the barber and remedy that embarrassment immediately. And I got just the man for you... Let me introduce you to the best barber on Fleet Street, Sweeney Todd.

Motherfucker.

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