Icehouse is gay for soccer, so I'm taking over.

Heeeeeeeyy there friend. How's it hangin? My name's Jack Nicholson. You may remember me from such films as the one where I was the Joker but didn't kill myself, and the one where I was retarded or something and teamed up with a single mom and a pillowbiter for a roadtrip. I think I won an award for that last one. Whatever. People in Hollywood are stupid. I could go do something else, but it's just so damn easy to live here. Did you know that I haven't paid for these seats sense 1994? Honest to God. I keep getting the bill, but I just tell Ronnie up there at security that I have a lifetime membership. Like this is a goddamn country club or something. Rubes.

Aaaaaaaannyway, I just had to pop by to explain something to this pussy Icehouse. Explain something with some brass knuckles in his ears if he doesn't pay ol' Jacky boy the proper attention.

Icehouse has been devoting a LOT of time and attention to this "soccer" thing going on half a world away. He seems to have forgotten that the NBA Finals are going on, and you know what? That's just sad on his part. I used to respect him. I really did. I wouldn't go so far as to say "like," but respect fits. Like I respected the Big Chief in the one movie where I was in the loony bin. Yeah, that's it. I wouldn't pal around with the big sumbitch, but if I needed something smashed or a basketball game won, you could call his number and presto! He'd take care of it.

So Icehouse is off pirouetting with some greaseballs in the magical fairy tale land of "Cold-Weather Africa." You can't fool Jacky. The boy's on some goofballs. Like this one time, me and Dennis Hopper... you know what? That's for another time. I went to all this trouble of hacking into Icehouse's account to talk some friggin' hoops!

Didja see my boys put the hurting on those New England jackasses? That was sweet. That was almost as brutal as this one torture-porn I financed back in the '80s. I say "financed" but what I mean is "used my boat to dump her body off San Onofre." As if the 20-point lead going into halftime wasn't enough, Dumbo surprised everyone out of their codpieces with a nice little jam on the walking corpse of Kevin Garnett.

Use those ears to fly there, kid. They've gotta be good for something. Just remember that I sold your mom to a traveling circus and she's probably dead now. HAHA! JACK'S IN CHARGE!

Now if there's something I like, it's kicking a man while he's down. Sure, the knockout punch is pretty sweet, but the crunch of unprotected ribs when I bring down an Academy Award-winning people's elbow? No symphony sounds so majestic. Which is why I like this little munchkin Shannon. Sure, he's named after a girl, but the little tyke can fly! Look at him go!

Good goddamn! Funk!

So with that, I bid you all a good day. Icehouse knows what he can do to get back in my good graces. It ain't pretty, but he knows.