There's a couple things I never want to hear about my 39 year old center and "bleed into the playoffs" is one of them. You also never want to hear a girl tell you she's going to bleed into her underwear. You can pretty much kiss her on the cheek, thank her for the delightful evening and head home because that's the best and cleanest fun you're gonna have for the next 7 days. Unless you wanna be a cowboy and play hardball. I know some people who've done but I don't deal well with blood. I'd probably pass out and the girl would go around telling her friends she's so hot that she made Rizzy so dizzy that he passed out. Ya right, bitch. Where were we? I'm so fucking sick of hearing about the return of Shaq and Jermaine O'Neal. One of them is coming back tonight and another is coming back in a couple days? I'll believe it when I see it. What Danny Ainge needs to do is sack up like Calhoun in 2003 and tell us he fucked up and he fucked up hard by trading Perk. You can argue Perk was already injured and demanding a big contract in the future but that shit doesn't matter right now. He was part of our identity and best friends with the big 4. You don't break up best friends and think there won't be some awful aftermath. You know how old people die when their spouses bite the dust? That's what happening to this Celts seam and I'll probably do the same when my cat gets thrashed apart by a coyote. Can't see myself going on without the little guy. That's real love and the power of love is immense. The heart wants what it wants. Lucas Scott taught me that.