My name is Ainsley. I am a small but powerful magnet.
jerkethic.com for more words.
ainsleydrew.com if you want to get all personal-like.
Further stalking available via the Internet.
I love you, Blake Griffin. An ode, by Ainsley.
Blake Griffin,
I love the way you let your mouthguard hang halfway out of your mouth
while you chew on it
after you do something awesome.
I love the fact that you’re a Proactiv commercial
that’s just waiting to happen.
I love your arms, Blake Griffin, oh
I love your arms in many, many, many ways,
most of which require laying down,
some of which are illegal in a few central and southern states,
and all of which would be benefited by me buying rubber sheets.
Blake Griffin, I love how you have an older brother
who I also love,
Taylor Griffin,
who was signed to the Phoenix Suns last year
and has since been waived,
only to fade into obscurity,
otherwise known as Belgium.
It must be awesome
to be the better brother in the Griffin family.
Remember this, Blake Griffin:
I have loved you ever since your legendary run at University of Oklahoma,
when I learned to drive stick shift in the parking lot of your stadium
under your watchful eyes,
glaring down from an unnecessarily massive poster of you,
that first poster which begged for me
to compare you to a Neanderthal.
[poetry snaps]
