One day you’re going to be thinking about NFL contracts and something at the back of your mind is going to be nagging you...telling you that you’re wrong. You won’t quite know what it is. It’ll be like an apparition passing by the edge of your vision; cloudy and ephemeral, a symptom of your Raider-jaundiced eyes and years of abusing yourself by drinking haterade. It’ll be the simple, unfathomable wrongness of your statement but you won’t remember it as it dances at the edge of your consciousness.
Then again it may just be the drugs talking.
Puff-puff, pass, yo.