Sixers as Rockets East, Josh Harris, Sam Hinkie, and Mescaline

Josh Harris getting mauled by Lou Williams - Drew Hallowell

The following is a result of three consecutive near-sleepless nights, four face-meltingly hot days, and 23 some-odd years of rooting for the Sixers. To the person looking for a reasoned, coherent, informational article on the Sixers hiring Sam Hinkie: This is not the post you're looking for.

I peddle words. It's all I do. It's why I can't watch a Terrence Malick film. There are precious few excellent combinations of words in our language that take my breath away. "Chipotle Aioli" is one. "Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo" is another. But nothing comes close to the hopscotch my intestines play when I hear the Sixers referred to as "Rockets East".

The Sixers hired Sam Hinkie while I was one day into the Bottle Rock Music Festival in Napa, CA camping next to a gaggle of exceptionally persistent drug dealers. These high-minded apothecaries propositioned my friends and me with their medicinal E or medicinal Molly or medicinal Shrooms or medicinal Acid or hey this one makes the colors blend like Mescaline but without so much of the nausea.

After Matrixing around the human shit deposited by a human next to the driver's side door of my car in the witching hours of the previous evening, I declined ("I'm Good," which is to say, "Stop Shitting Next To My Car, Sir.") and took to charging my Droid in the battery-draining car. It awoke with news.

Sam Hinkie.

SAM HINKIE!

SAM HINKIE!

ROCKETS EAST, BITCH. -Me.

They got the Rockets guy. All the human shit in the world couldn't bring me down. Maybe that dude slipped some Mescaline in my Chex Mix after all. To be honest, that hay-beige was really blending with the blues from the scattered Bud Light cans. Chandler Parsons, take all the warm bananas you want, bro.

Josh Harris, man. Josh Harris is my absolute dude. Derek did all the heavy lifting here, but I've got less reservations than he does so here are some things that I can conclude to be true or mostly true with a whole bunch of circumstantial evidence and hearsay.

1. Josh Harris has wanted Doug Collins gone for awhile. Rod Thorn and Rod Thorn's contract likely got in the way of overhauling as early as he would've liked. Read this.

2. Sam Hinkie (and a host of other GM candidates of yesteryear: Tom Penn, Mike Zarren, Danny Ferry, and more that we don't know about) passed up the Sixers GM spot pre-DiLeo because they didn't want to have Doug Collins' scrotum up their noses all year.

3. Tony DiLeo is the biggest stopgap GM/person of all time. More on him in a few hours.

Please allow me to proselytize Josh Harris a little more for my own sake:

I LOVE YOU JOSH HARRIS.

I want to reboot "I Love You, Beth Cooper" and "I Love You, Man" and "I Will Always Love You" except take out Hayden Panettiere, Jason Segel, and Whitney Houston and replace them with Joshua G.D. Harris.

Meanwhile, Derek Fisher played 26 minutes in last night's OKC loss to Memphis. And half of the Drug Dealing Family Band was arrested for stealing a bunch of coolers from the campsite, one of which being mine, then was subsequently jailed after the hard-nosed Napa Police found Oodles of Noodles of Acid in their vehicle.

This team loves their press conferences, and they've got one later today introducing Microsoft Excel Spreadsheet GM on a Dell with very low battery and you have to put your ear really close to the speaker if you want to hear anything.

Go Sixers, man.

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