Our pre-draft analysis of the FUFL continues with special guest commentator, John Mayer.
The Caged Bengal (CL)
Realizing the days when this team was winning can now officially be categorized as "halcyon-like", the manager of this team understands this year he must be aggressive in order to avoid FUFL obscurity. The lone bright spot of last year's pathetic 2-12 season was beating the Commish, but overall it was like a "Buy 12 get 2 free" crotch kicking promotion (with less clowns). As for this year, the Caged Bengal feels a good draft coming on. This feeling is based on a recent scientific study performed on the manager, comparing the number of 40 oz's consumed with 'fists-shaken' at 'my wretched God' and then correlated with 'bails-jumped' and 'average hostages taken.' It won the Nobel Prize for Achievements in Alcohol or something. True Story. What Does John Mayer make of all this?
(Ed Note: This picture angers me.)
More like the Origami Gangstas, considering how many times this team folds over the season (ZING)! Always a contender, but never a winner. Unlike me, where I'm always a winner but never a contender. That's how I won the last 25 Tour de France's and 7 consecutive Alligator Wrasslin' competitions. As for the OG's draft, we predict a combo of some sort, and at least one eagles player who is drafted too early. Perhaps this year the OG's sustained hustlin' will finally earn some chedda. But life in the game is hard, and you either play the game or the game plays you. And I should know: I've lived that life. If by "lived" you mean "watched two seasons of the Wire with the swear words bleeped out." Fa Real. Jeezy Meezy, tell 'em what time it is:
John Mayer is down with the OG's. "Holler" he sys. Holler indeed.
Players to Be Named Later (WG)
<insert: Billy Joel>
They can kill with a smile
They can wound with their eyes
They can ruin your faith with that roster of guys
And they only reveal what they want you to see
They play like a child
But they're always a Runza to me
< / Billy Joel>
have a solid team, but in the end fail miserably. Much like that orange shirt.
Mike Vicks Dogpound (SW)
Congratulations for showing up. If your league effort mirrors that of the effort in choosing a team name, you'll look back on last year's 7-7 record as when you used to be "unstoppable." We go right to the Mayer for this one:
getting laid all the time, on command.
Jailhouse Rock (BM)
Based on facts I just made up, the second year is always worse. You thought you made a lousy showing last year with a 6 game losing streak in the beginning of the season? That's nothing. Try showing up to a fancy party thrown by the rich parents of the girl you love, after being sold out by the stupid rich kid who anyone in their right mind can see is a bad dude, but he's rich and white and the parents prefer him over your wrong-side-of-the-tracks-kinda-smells-like-roadkill persona. And after you sneak in dressed as a waiter and bring the party to a crashing halt by making a from-the-heart appeal to everyone's conscience that love should truly win the day no matter anyone's socio-economic status or subconcious biases - and during the silent moment where the rich girl and you are supposed to make a connection that rises above it all, some dipshit makes a loud and realistic wet fart sound. Fuck you wet fart guy. Fuck you in the A. So yeah, try that.
John Mayer just took a shit that smells rosier than your season.
And last night was taco night.
Well that's it for today kind sirs. See you on Sunday. At church of course.
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