Really? No sex for a month?

Now I am officially concerned about our mental health as Jazz fans. We are overwhelming willing to give up our conjigal visits for a month just to see a 3 game winning streak by our beloved Jazz. Think back 10 years to what you would have given up for a chance at some nookie, not even the good nookie, just the zipper sparkin kind and now we would give up the good stuff just to see a bunch of D-bags give a damn for 3 games. I am tired of caring more about the games than the players do. As a sign of protest I suggest that we put the kids to bed early tomorrow during the Jazz game, get our wives liquored up (so they will play along with us), put on some Barry White music and enjoy an evening for a change. No recording the game for later either, I am talking about a full-fledged protest. I am tired of going to bed pissed off and unfulfilled, we should at least get to enjoy our God given right of the best 30 seconds we are capable of.

To end, I want to paraphrase the great Clark W. Griswold -
Hey. If any of you are looking for any late Christmas gift ideas for me, I have one. I'd like The Jazz, my NBA team, right here tonight. I want them brought from their post holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people and I want them brought right here, with a big ribbon on their heads, and I want to look them straight in the eye and I want to tell them what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shits they are. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where's the Tylenol?