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You Gotta Represent, Especially If You Can’t Ball

Continuing the theme of the week, I couldn’t possibly live with myself if I hadn’t had a pair of basketball socks. Now, the Puddinette will not favor this picture, because she prefers when they look more “natural”, meaning “at comfortable rest” rather than “looking like I just shoved my feet out in front of me and grabbed my phone”. She’ll say this looks awkward.

But that’s okay, because basketball and I have always been awkward, at best.

Admittedly, basketball could legit be considered my least favorite sport, which is likely a felony in many parts of the US, Kentucky included. But I’m a XL-sized fellow with the vertical leap of a three-toed tree sloth after an Ambien and a warm milk. As I’m also not remarkable in the overall height category, there’s really no place for me in the game.

It probably doesn’t help that I can’t shoot and jump and the same time and my ball “skills” were once ranked on-par with a kindergartner’s. But I got game when it comes to socks, so you best believe I was going to include a basketball pair, despite the fact that Puddin Man Can’t Jump.

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