I had a dream about Zach Lowe last night. I was at his house. It was his child’s birthday, but the child was a kitten. There was someone on the couch next to Zach. He looked eight years old. I think it was Zach Lowe’s son because he was wearing Zach Lowe’s face. Both of them were eating piles of terrible food. They ate so much bad food their shirts fell off. In case you did not know, Zach Lowe is a writer. He writes about the NBA. A lot of things are happening right now in the NBA, but most of these things involve money. Everyone who can get paid will get paid. One very tall boy got paid more than almost every other very tall boy in America. This very tall boy is named Mozgobble. He likes to drink cigars with his shirt off while burning bags of champagne in the bathtub of a luxury hotel which may or may not be true. I think Mozgogo’s new coach is pregnant and giving birth so Mozcostco is alone and not being told what to do. I’m very worried Mozodrinko will end up selling all his money for a single ride on a jetski. There’s also the concern someone on twitter will say something and Mozspace will decide to live the remaining years of the fall of capitalism in a dark closet to ward off the effects of the invisible concussion he is going to give himself when he tries to jump off the top of the pile of money he has developed solely by being a very tall boy.