Happy Birthday, Paroxi-Wife

Today’s Paroxi-Wife’s birthday. Yeah. Today. So while we’re morally obligated to keep a solemn song in our hearts for the lives that were lost in the most traumatic event in the history of the United States, I have to simultaneously try and woo the wife and convince her that someone’s actually happy about this day.

Tough break, kid.

Anyway, I know how much you people love the ol’ ball and chain, so I thought I’d give you a chance to leave her a note and thank her for allowing me to spend so much time watching Linas Kleiza and screaming “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, IVERSON! HE’S WIDE OPEN! WIDE! OPEN!”

So in honor of her, I thought I’d put this together for her, and add a note from a special someone at the bottom. Love ya, darlin’.
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Baby,
Hey, there, sugar. How’s things? Things are okay here in LA. Keepin’ real busy, making movies, shaving Kaman, trying to get Camby off the anti-depressants, and of course, lookin’ fine for you. It gets lonely out here though, when the lights of Hollywood go dark and I’m left to think about all those nights with you, and know you’re sleeping next to that schlub who thinks Kirk Hinrich is going to turn it around any day now. I miss you. I miss your fire. I miss the way you’d stare at my arms and call me your Goldizzle Godizzle. I know ours is a love that can never be, but just know that I’m out here, thinking of you every time I eat a double stuff oreo, or turn on Tori and Dean on the DVR. You’re with me always, Paroxi-Wife.

Love Always,
Baron Davis.

BOOM.

Hardwood Paroxysm