I'm so terribly sorry for skipping last week.
Bringing the funny with so much global disaster seemed, I don't know how to put it, but it seemed like there was something I should be doing elsewhere.
Like writing up a bit on how glorious Eli Manning looked, while at the same time making ironic little jabs about how his receivers wouldn't have to work so hard if he were a better QB, which I would say with the full knowledge that he is a two time Super Bowl MVP and consistently creams "Brady/Belichick Reach Around" making them look awkward and unprepared.
Always prepare for the reach around.
Always.
Like . . . this morning I had a registered nurse . . . describe in detail . . . exactly how to shave my testicles to prepare for an upcoming procedure.
She wasn't even awkward about it.
The word "shaft" was used and there wasn't any snickering.
All I'm saying is that when Ben McAddo preps Eli for the "Brady/Belichick Reach Around" I'll bet that Manning doesn't snicker either.
That's how much respect I have for him as an athlete.
The point is . . . funny is really difficult when you're feeling the ominous weight of serious shit happening all around you.
So serious, in fact, that an evenly shorn scrotum is like the least of my emotional concerns both globally and internally.
Anyway, I went into a kind of reality funk, and that's really not fair. I know for a fact this is the only thing my brother reads with any consistency that doesn’t have a recommended daily allowance listed on the back.
Food labels.
I'm saying that all he reads is food labels.
And this blog.
So much funnier when I have to explain things.
Just so you know, I am writing this on Tuesday evening, while still processing all the news from Monday.
So if I blow far passed what is appropriate (Trigger Warning), it's only because I envision Mike blowing a large chunk of snot out of his nose while trying to look dignified.
I live for that moment.
Tom Petty's death has been confirmed and I only have one thing to say about that:
Jeff Lynn was ALSO a member of The Traveling Wilburys.
It wasn't just Dylan, Orbison, and Harrison.
Lynn is always getting the well shorn shaft when it comes to name placement.
Why is that important in a Fantasy Football blog?
You ask?
It isn't . . . I just wanted an excuse to return to the penis metaphor so that Mike can envision me sitting in my bathroom with a razor and a worried look on my face.
It's what he lives for.
THE BIG NEWS
So, the National Anthem protests didn't really extend much beyond last week. I mean yeah, sure, there were demonstrations of unity, there a few mentions of who is sitting, who is linking arms, there are a f@#k-ton of think pieces written in every magazine and online blogs.
My favorite line so far is "America is so racist that when someone protests racism, people think they're protesting America."
Damn that's a good line.
Kaepernick still doesn't have a job, but the good people of Jacksonville are clamoring for Chad Henne to take the wheel.
I shit you not.
Allen Hurns and Marqis Lee are not sleepers.
Stop thinking they are Dad.
The other big news is that Cam Newton will only have a decent game if every single Fantasy Expert insists (beyond a shadow of a doubt) that it would be absolute, ridiculous, folly to put him in your line up when you have Stafford on your bench.
Damn Beers at Ten.
That shit had to hurt.
Losing by 32 points, while Cam goes off for 58, while sitting safely on your bench.
Oh . . . and you benched Powell too.
A piece of advice from my favorite RN . . . Instead of using ice packs on your man-berries, use frozen vegetables. Apparently they're lighter, more form fitting, and there's less of a risk of frost bite.
She didn't use man-berries (that was my addition), but THE MORE YOU KNOW.
Am I right?
Anyway, I'm gonna skip the Injuries and Bad Decisions part of this week's blog because I was watching live when Chris Carson got his leg bent back and the image is still burned in my retina.
It was nowhere near the most awful thing I've seen in the last 48 hours.
(I am going to say, that right here, used to be one of the most terrible things I've ever said in my entire existence. And yet, I laughed for five straight minutes, tears streaming down my face, but I'm still going to delete it, because it was that horrible.)
FANTASYLAND
Buy My Book 0-4 (11th place)
Trump's Twitter Game 2-2 (5th place)
Daily Fantasy 7,500th out of 149,944
It's serious overhaul time with Buy My Book. I lost my last match by less than a point.
Not that I'm complaining.
It's not like I had Cam on my bench.
But this team just ain't taking off like it should.
I still don't have a good name for her.
I need something spunky. Something underdoggy but with a comfortable Disney outcome. No Bad News Bears, no Rocky 1; winning sloppily is still far more interesting than losing cute.
Maybe I'll get my son to name the team. He just went undefeated in his third fencing tournament in a row. He knows a thing or two about being small, delicate, and f@#king savage when it comes to stabbing bitches in the chest.
Trump is still pretty savage. Though there are cracks in the facade. In the thin veil between real life and Fantasy Football, I can only root for what is best for everyone.
Though Melvin Gordon was really disappointing last week.
So sad . . . Tough game . . . #littlehands
As for Daily Fantasy, I’m not really sure how I feel about it.
You need to make it to the Top 5 to score any cash, and so far, I’ve been hanging around the Top 20ish.
I keep going into each weekend with like my favorite line-up, but come Sunday morning, I pretty much forget who it is on my team.
I’ll keep up with it . . . I mean come on . . . it’s free . . . but maybe next year I’ll drop some bones on the table to make it a little more interesting. Maybe I’ll do that this year if I’ve got anything left in the porn stash after paying off Steve Burge.
Oh . . . if you’re new to this blog . . . I narrate audio books and work primarily with Romance Fiction, so whenever my wife and I refer to the money in my business bank account . . . we call it the Porn Stash.
Not Porn Stache.
Porn Stash.
It’s a pun.
See . . . so much funnier when I explain things.
CRAZY STUPID PREDICTIONS WEEK 3
Niners get their first win, but Gurley goes off.
Niners lose . . . Gurley Goes OFF
I get my first win because Gurley goes off
Winner!
Cousins starts to rev up his game, but not enough to suggest I wouldn’t be better with Stafford.
Cousins comes through.
Cutler throws for 350 and 2 TDs.
Not even close
Six Teams in each league outscore their projections.
Four. Four lousy Teams beat projections.
CRAZY STUPID PREDICITONS WEEK 5
The Red Rocket defies all logic and scores high against Buffalo
With Dalvin Cook and Chris Carson injured, Elijah McGuire becomes the new unsung RB hero.
McCoy outscores LeVeon Bell. (It’s really all I want this week).
Brady takes a knee during the National Anthem.
McCown leads the Jets to another victory, because if I can’t win this season, then neither can the Browns.
All right. It’s late. There’s stuff not being done. Good luck everybody.
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