Someone needs a raise in the Miami Heat marketing department. They know their fans care more about their spray tans than the score of the game, so they just distract the worst fans in sports with big-boobied MILFs crawling on their hands and knees on center court and mascots killing each other. “How was the game honey?” “Not sure, but I saw a glorious pair of hooters and Elmo get killed. Dwayne Wayne made a few goals in the basketball hoop I think.”
What’s excellent about these videos is that there isn’t one person in the arena who thinks that Burnie can clear that line of mascots, including Burnie–especially Burnie. Make no mistake, if you were put at the end of the mascot line, you fucked Burnie over at one point. The Panther may have raw-dogged Burnie’s girl or sniped the last Kit Kat out of the vending machine, but however large the issue, no one deserves to cough up their small intestine in front of 106 whispering fans.
Personally, I can related to the mascots who just got stomped on. Holding a plastic smile while slowly dying on the inside is how I walk through life. My suggestion: numb yourself with alcohol and cut out everyone who tells you you have a problem. When the internal bleeding stops, of course.