The titan of basketball LeBron James’ penis was shown on live TV on a major network last night. If you haven’t seen the clip, you can check it out here.
But I’m not here to ogle at a screen capture or giggle at dick jokes. I’m here to share my transformative experience that I experienced when LeBron’s shaft was shown.
I’m not really a spiritual person. I don’t go to church. I’ve never read the Bible. I’d say I’m pretty agnostic about what the term God means altogether. But since the day LeBron James was drafted about 13 years ago, I always believed in my heart of hearts that if I could get even the tiniest glimpse of LeBron James’ man-meat, my life would be changed forever.
After 10 years I finally came to peace that it was never going to happen. The dream was dead. Like giving up on a rare mint-cookie treat you used to eat as a child that had long since gone off the rack in the rare-treats aisle of the supermarket. Then something amazing happened. Last night, during the great basketball guy shootout of 2015, mine own two eyes finally saw what they had been patiently waiting for: A glimpse at the baby barrel of a legend.
With my arms heavy, my knees weak, my palms sweaty, I decided to write down all the amazing things that happened to me mere moments after seeing the thing I had been longing for for over a decade. Here they are:
- My roommate cleaned my entire apartment. Even my room.
- I got a text back from the girl who doesn’t know we’re getting married in the future.
- The Russian man living below me told me I had the prettiest eyes in all the land.
- I received an email from Groupon inviting me to come pet an orangutan for a fair price.
- My parents sent me a Snapchat telling me they’re getting back together after 15 years.
- I finally got my kissing booth permit approved.
- The dog I hit with my Vespa came back from the dead, holding no hard feelings.
- Jennifer Lawrence asked if I wanted to come to a two-person pool party.
- The Leprechaun who tricked me into fingering him finally made good on his deal and granted me three magic wishes.
- The Leprechaun felt guilty and explained to me he’s not the mythical character I think he is and gave me a number to a genie in Van Nuys.
There you have it. Even a blind man could see that I pretty much owe everything good that happens to me from here on out to LeBron James’ penis. I have to say, I think I’ve only seen the “tip” of the iceberg of good things to come.