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Blog: Forty Deuce
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Unless you're wearing that ironically, you're a fucktard. Fuck you and your non-ironic statement t-shirt. Sure, just sink into that hug, fucker. Fuck you and your neediness. Hey! What does that 15 stand for? 15 ways you've been a douchebucket over the years? Can I start the list? Fuck you and your color coordinated jacket. Fuck you for not issuing a code violation for general douchetasticness. Fuck you and your condescension. I would think you've... Continue »
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Blog: Forty Deuce
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Listen up, Fed Fans. Get em while they're hot. Nike Dri Fit t-shirts with your lovely Fed subtely emblazoned (if that's possible) on the chest. $30 at Midwest Sports. But why'd they have to make it so boring? I mean, is there a more nondescript, apathetic, Swiss color than charcoal? One Ball Armstrong gets bright yellow and Fed gets grey? And then there's the picture. I would so buy one of these had they used... Continue »
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Blog: Forty Deuce
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If there is one thing that unites great champion athletes it's a sense of delusion. For some, that level of delusion can be comical or eyeroll worthy (I'm rolling my eyes at you, Serena). For others it manifests itself in a self-confidence that seems independent of results. I'd put Fed in this category. In Rafa's case, it's a humility that is independent of results. If you didn't know better as you watched Rafa collapse to... Continue »
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Blog: Forty Deuce
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Hey Sam, You don't know me. Actually, that's not totally true. I'm that weird Asian chick who cheers embarrassingly loud at your matches in California. Remember the LA final when you lost to Flavi but turned to a group of girls in the stands and waved? Yeah, that was me and my friends. We weren't drunk, I promise! Remember your match against Serena at Stanford? Yeah, I wasn't there for that one. But I cheered... Continue »