An open letter to Tony Parker

Hey Tony, what's up? Look, I know that the timing of this letter isn't exactly convenient for you, what with game seven of that dogfight of a playoff series with the New Orleans Hornets to be played later tonight, but there is something that's been burning away at my conscience that I've been meaning to share with you, and I decided just now that it's high time for me to unleash this burden.

It's about your wife Tony. You know, Eva. Eva Longoria. Yeah, that one.



You see TP, and I hope that you don't mind me calling you TP, but your wife, well, she kind of fucked my friend Mark about this time two years ago.

Well, actually, she didn't fuck Mark, I'm just fucking with you man, but you know what? She almost did! She wanted to. I could tell. And she was your girl at the time! And that's just as bad, don't you agree?

What are the details of this sordid tale, you ask? Well, as I mentioned, one night about two years ago this time of year, I was with some friends at a douche-y Manhattan nightclub called Marquee because, well, I'm a smoldering volcano of douche and have spent a significant portion of my leisure time in New York at Marquee and places like it. At around 3AM or so, I decided to check out and head home to masturbate feverishly. My friend Mark left with me. As we were about to exit Marquee, I noticed little Eva and a gaggle of her girlfriends congregating. I pointed this out to Mark, who I should mention was so inebriated that I doubt that he could spell his own name on command at this point.

"Oh, look, that's Eva Longoria."

"Where?"

"Right there."

"Oh. Well, I'm going home with her."

Eva and her friends then proceeded to exit the club and hail a cab and Mark, a stunningly handsome actor fellow, proceeded to lurk creepily behind them. Once your bride and her friends had hailed a cab and began to pile in, Mark attempted to execute his patented "I'll just jump in the cab with them and they'll be totally cool with it" move, a move that has failed fabulously each and every time that it's been attempted, but you have to admire the man's persistence. It was then that your wife's wanton eyes glazed over my buddy, and she uttered the following lust-filled words of passion to him...

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"



She's a saucy one, I tell ya.

One of Eva's friends then turned to me and admonished your humble messenger to "please do something about your friend!" And that I did. I pulled him away, put him in a cab, and sent him home.

But before I did so I looked into Eva's eyes and I saw something. I saw unmet needs TP. And in today's "no means yes" dating world, I'd bet my pinkie toe that if Eva's friend Cockblockus Maximus hadn't reared her meddling head, Mark would have been drilling Gabrielle Solis balls deep within the hour.

Incidentally, Mark's originally from Austin and is a Spurs fan. Just saying.

What I'm trying to do here more than anything TP is to warn you. About two things. Number one is that your wife loves the cock and can't get enough of it, which I'm sure you're well aware of.



The second is that I'm sure that she'll be in New Orleans tonight, seeing as she always seems to follow you around watching your every move (isn't that so fucking annoying?!), and there's a dude named Jody who patrols south Louisiana that can smell an unmet need from a thousand paces. He's a legendary figure in local yore, particularly among men who work in professions that force them to be away from home for extended periods of time like offshore oilfield workers and fishermen.

Jody fucks their wives and girlfriends when they're away at work all the time. They've largely just come to accept it. I hear that he also fucks the wives and girlfriends of military folk serving overseas.

Jody gets around.

Jody also wields a meat-sword that's been compared to a baby's arm.

Jody also is rumored to keep a room at the Hyatt across the street from the New Orleans Arena where he "entertains" the visiting wives and girlfriends of opposing players.

I'm just saying TP. I hope this isn't a distraction for you out there on the court tonight. Have a good game kid.

And try not to choke on Tyson Chandler's nutsack.