20090124

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Gary woke up with a start-but then relaxed, stretching out each arm sighing as his joints stretched to balance. "Today" he thought. "Today is your day Glove, eyes- thousands of pairs... all on you." Pulling himelf up on one taut elbow he surveyed the hotel room, a particularily nice suite at the Hampton Inn in Buckhead.

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He ran his hand stright up the hem of the dolce suit his assistant got him for Christmas. It was a power suit, power he remembered in the form of a patended Glove transition crossedover dribble that cause joe wolf to actually shit himself. Gary arched his back simulating the angle those TNT chairs would soon achieve, it felt so good.

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His eyes danced across the words on the screen as his fingers danced their own tune on the laptop of Gary Payton's Mac Book Air. He momentaily allowed himself to image the scene tonight, the sweetish musk that Kenny often gives off. Ernie's piercing eyes that seemed to implore him. He imaged c-web cackling with respectful agreement as Glove pointed out exactly why Al Jefferson was better then Tim Duncan. His eyes darted to the time: time to bounce like one of his own letter-true bounce passes honing in on a cutting scorer.