The Good Land.
Wisconsin.
Ensconced in a world of fatty corpuscles.
Adrian Griffin retired from the court, but the gravity of his situation prevents him from leaving the bench, where you could most easily find him over these last 12 years or so. When one thinks of Seton Hall and the last name Griffin, it would be easy to think of the late great Eddie. Worry not, as Scott Skiles has brought on the decent-career defender to shore up a roster that saw some decent overhauling by moving Ricardo Jefferson's contract. Ramon Sessions' summer time show has been brutally boring. Andrew Bogut may have a career year. Brandon Jennings is the subject of far too much speculation; let the kids play. Charlie Villanueva and his alopecia have run off to the home of house music. Charlie Bell is still around. Michael Redd ought to feel damn disrespected by how everyone in the known baskebtallblogouniverse openly decries his expendability as a max-contract type of guy.
The singer not the song.
Fuck Alice Cooper.
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In NBA 2K1 for dreamcast, after I'd played about 5000 hours of the game, a glitch developed where instead of saying the proper plays name the announcer would insert Adrian Griffin. Thus I could throw down a crazy dunk with Austin Croshere (who I led the league in scoring with in one of my franchises) and the announcer would ejaculate "ADRIAN GRIFFIN!" It was perhaps funnier when the player was someone like Dana Barros stealing the ball and the announcer would declare "ADRIAN GRIFFIN!"
Let us not forget the poor man's Adrian Griffin, Eric Williams.
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