I am a man of peace, with exceptions. A horrible man. A spiteful man.
A not very nice man. After all, it's not this child-meme's fault that he has bad parents. Does this lessen the gladness in my heart tonight, or any night when this meme plays?
No. No, it does not.
But let's rewrite my spite, because hatred leads to bitterness, and bitterness leads to Jar Jar Binks. Let's leave that poor, possibly presumptively innocent child out of this. Let's go here instead.
Ratface, Chris Collins, and Wojo all facepalming to cover their tears. With an enraged Dookiegirl looking on. A little while ago, I raised with a fellow Terp the spectre of how joyful it might've been to bang UberTerp Bonnie Bernstein 20 years ago, when she was an actual Terp gymnast. This picture? Is even better.
Look, I've written before about my mitochondrial Terp love, my secret wish to have Juan Dixon's babies, my undying love for the Terp National Championship team of 11 years ago, my disdain for the post-Cole Terp teams, the ascendance of the Terp women, the thing that died a little in my heart when Gary Williams decided he was sick and tired of this shit.
That doesn't mean that beating Dook isn't fun. Rock on, Dez Wells.
Go Terps. Fuck Dook.
Also: J.J. Redick still drinks his own urine.
The Things We Do For Love
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