Mocking the Draft II: Hold the Mayer

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?

Uhhhhhh... I like it?
(Ed Note: This picture angers me.)

The Original Gangstas (RM)
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>

John Mayer concedes that the Runzas always appear to
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:

John Mayer feels optimistic. But then again, you would too if you were
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.

Mocking the Draft II: Hizzoner, the Mayer

Oh FUFL, I have missed you the way I miss the mystery guy in my office building who pisses anywhere but into the urinal. Like him, you remain a mystery to me, you torment me when you are around, but after a prolonged absence, I can't wait for your return - if only for another crack and catching you and rubbing your face in the mess you made. I've been thinking, FUFL, that you deserve the best when it comes to mocking your draft, something signaling the auspicious/tedious event that an online draft is. So I called in every favor, got on my knees and begged everyone I could who would listen, and got what this draft needed: the celebrity cache it richly deserves with none other than John Mayer. (Ed Note: If you wonder what kind of insight John Mayer can provide, keep in mind this multiple-Grammy award winning artist has seen more early 20's ass than every college kid with a dorm room ethernet connection combined. Plus he sang to me in that manly Kathleen Turner voice of his. My heart melted!)

The Convicks (MW)
There are registered sex offenders who have made fewer moves than this team did in 2006. The whopping total of 54 was more than than teams 2,3, and 4 combined. But this translated into success, as they ended on a 6 game win streak and a Championship. Last year's draft caught two of the sleeper RB picks (Chester Taylor is now just sleeping), and Tom Brady, who impregnated his offense with... uhh, pregnancy I guess. Two reliable veterans in Torry Holt and Donald Driver put up crazy season numbers. Also worth noting? The top 3 point producers on this team: 1. Frank Gore, 2. Tom Brady, 3. Baltimore D. Think about that. So why will this team threaten a repeat? Simply because we need them to. That's right. All of the money this manager spends on strategy guides, all of the little things he should be doing around the house gone undone, all of the hours of work siphoned off into this league: in the end it results in victory (2006) or near victory (2005, 2004). The formula of ignoring your daily, familial, marital, and hygenic duties and spending time on the internet can earn you money and victory. His strategy validates our sloth. And in our own way - particularly with our middle fingers - we salute you. And so this year will be no different, as a crafty draft looms for the Convicks. Unless they draft 7th. Then all hope is lost. John Mayer says:

"John Mayer likey"

Douchebag Jones (CJ)
Some call him the commissioner, some call him a douchebag, and some call him 'that kid who cries when he dances' But we should just call him what he is: angry, determined, and bent on winning fueld by unbridled spite. He claims little pleasure in this league, which takes him away from his other dual pursuits of reading Harry Potter books and drawing pictures of a chesty Hermoine servicing a stick figure with a similar hairline and eyewear. This year the Commish will wage the same war with a smarter draft, hopefully avoiding busts like Andre Johnson and Ahman Green, and staying away from injury prone measts like Alexander. His strategy this year will rely less on his managerial skills and more on detailing the seriousness and graveness of his family's recent health scare, juxtaposed with the newborn life that has made him an Uncle, all in hopes of creating enough of an emotional rollercoaster for opponents so they fail to adjust for bye weeks. This team has had decent draft spots in the past few years, so it will be interesting to see how he responds to a more difficult position. Besides outright weeping of course. That shit is standard. Let's get John Mayer's thoughts:

John Mayer "understands your smoldering attitude
keeps you both competitive and celibate."

Kool-Aid Maroney (DP)
This team threatened to repeat in 2005, but last year - even with all of the cheating - only managed a 6th place finish. With a top score of only 129, this team is going to need some serious firepower from the draft, and expect the manager to make some aggressive moves that would make even the date-rapiest of frat boys blush. This manager has a gift for staying in the thick of things, but we'll see if he can overcome the FUFL's marraige penalty. What penalty you ask? The league marriage penalty tends to be that after you get married, your team suffers. Sure, it's great in the beginning, but after awhile your team wonders why you are hanging out with your friends instead of paying attention to them, and the next thing you know they're not cooperating anymore, and BAM you get in more trouble for checking out the supple running back of another team. You eventually come around and understand you've got to grow up and you made the right choice in the first place, but it's a transition year to say the least. Let's see what John Mayer thinks:

John Mayer is excited for you, but his collar is popped,
signifying both you and he are douchebags.

Stop Nagging Me Now (MS)
This team was at times unstoppable and at times a doormat. It had 5 games over 130 pts, and a season low of 69. When it won, it usually won decisively - a result of great performances by Westbrook, Rudi Johnson, and Marvelous Marvin Harrison. But the lows were just as spectacular, showing flashes of the 2005 season when it couldn't win no matter what they tried. SNMN's draft prowress is hard to figure out, but with the right combination of sleepers and studs, we expect another season of big wins from this team. In a related note, with the right combination of sleeping pills and studs, you can expect awkward conversations with law enforcement. What's John Mayer think?

Agreeing that your team isn't always what it seems,
John Mayer says, "Sometimes, I look like transvestite."

Die Nasty (CR)
This name makes me tremble! A pun on the word dynasty, signifying a tradition of excellence in the FUFL, but composed of two hardcore words that elicit feelings of fright and contempt! We tremble at your take on words! I shat myself twice just typing that! Perhaps THE question of the draft is will this manager have Larry Johnson again? The past two years LJ has ended up on this roster, saving your lily-white ass. Without LJ there to carry the load, who will do it? It seems to be the plan again, as we have received a sneak peak of Die Nasty's draft plan, round by round --- and let's just say we're not trembling anymore:

Mr. Mayer... your opinion?

John Mayer, holds his breath on getting LJ. He suggests his personal
prescription for success of "Winning a few Grammys and
banging a 19 year old every other Tuesday."
So, in a word, you're fucked.

Tomorrow: YOU'VE SEEN THE BEST, NOW MEET THE REST!

Javelin is Stab-tastic

This video reminds me of the time I threw a javelin and hit a guy.



Add Javelin to the list of sports where spectators are in danger. Tiger Woods and Sergio Garcia each hit a spectator yesterday. But I give golf fans a pass because a tiny ball is hard to see against the sky, and most golf fans are like 75 years old. But Javelin? If you are looking the other way, you deserve to get a lung punctured. And if you're gonna get hit, put some damn shoes on. You look ridiculous.

It shouldn't matter what the sport is. As a fan you have a responsibility. For example, if you are at a bullfight, get out of the way when the bull jumps into the crowd, but don't lose your beer. Common sense, people.

Via BustedPlay - which I didn't know existed until today.

In an Mmmbop You're Gone, Embarassed

While I never suggested I could do it better, Grimey over at LOLjocks posted one by yours truly.

Tony Romo makes me all fortissimo in my pants.

The whole post is good, but I take issue with him calling mmmbop a 'crappy pop ballad'. It was a peppy song, as I remember. Plus those three Hanson chicks were totally hot. I still trade their pictures online. Did you know there's this whole big international ring of dudes who want pictures like that? I'd tell you who they are, but for some reason they want to keep it a big secret. Probably to keep wieners like you out.

Indictment =Joey Harrington.

Mike Vick indicted. A picture says a thousand words.

...or 1,001 if you count the word on the picture.

If I'm the Falcons and facing the prospect of Joey Harrington helming the team, I'd start making calls to see what our other options are. Personally, I'd take that German baby polar bear for backup QB over Harrington. It'd have a better completion percentage, fewer INT's, and when it craps all over the place like Joey-Boy would anyway, the whole stadium will just clap and say "Awwwwwwwwwwwww!"

That baby polar bear is gonna get so much cheerleader ass, I'm telling you.

via Grimey's LOLjocks. Check it out.

Best Birthday Present Ever

If I'm Tom Brady, and I am (in a way*), then I probably want to downplay the whole, My-hot-literate-ex-girlfriend-is-gonna-have-my-shorty story whenever I can. That's going to be tough, seeing that it looks like his first kid is going to come out from under center on the same day his baby is born:

ALL'S not well with Gisele Bundchen and Tom Brady. While the two have put up a happy front for the cameras - and his family is even said to be flying out to Italy to spend time at the villa in Rome she recently acquired - our spies say Bundchen is upset that Brady's ex, Bridget Moynahan, is due to give birth to Brady's son on Friday - Bundchen's birthday. The tension has grown so intense that the couple fought openly in front of hotel guests in Napa while staying at the five-star Auberge du Soleil.

Man, that is some shitty luck. Who knows, maybe he can make the best of it. Maybe when the baby comes out he can quickly put a bow on the little tyke and be like, "Hey Gisele, I got you this new baby for your birthday! Happy Birthday sweetie! You said you always wanted one!" And then when she's not looking, replace it with a puppy. She probably won't even know the difference.

For a more intimate view of the whole thing, perhaps you should just go straight to the source, cause the baby's got a blog.

In the end though, we will share a day of birth - an important day for each of us that acknowledges our entrance to the human world and into circumstances that define who we are and who we are to become. It is a singular association that cannot be erased, like the scar upon young Harry Potter's head that forever connects him to the evil Lord Voldemort. Only in this case, Voldemort is a rapidly aging, uneducated and emaciated Brazilian minx, who breathes through her mouth and is likely mentally handicapped. Seriously, she would bust out a booty-dance when Taps is played at a military funeral. Oh zeez hoarns! Oh how zey cauz me to wiggle ze boom-boom!

I like this kid.

*I am Tom Brady in the way that I am also Enid Fellsworth and Morris Ackerman - straight up identity theft.

A Three Hour Tour

After sending profane text messages to his girlfriend, Bears LB and Paris Hilton vector Brian Urlacher has been ordered to a three hour parenthood class:

A judge has ordered Chicago Bears linebacker Brian Urlacher and the mother of his toddler to take a three-hour parenting class. Urlacher and his ex-girlfriend, Tyna Robertson, are in a legal battle over Urlacher's parental visits with his 2-year-old son, Kennedy.

I can't imagine what this class will be like. They'll probably just show the Steve Martin movie Parenthood - but with a runtime of only 125 minutes I'm not sure what they'd do for the balance of the class. Although.... maybe it takes longer because you have to stop it so many times due to sustained and uncontrollable laughter (It's Keanu Reeve's best work).

Other suggested topics:

• Why you shouldn't shoot each other in front of the child
• Strategies from removing your son's head from the oven (how does he get in there!?)
• Slapping does not equal Hugging
  
• How this is all Rex Grossman's fault

But seriously folks, three hours? That's it? Feral Dogs spend more time learning to care for their young. I haven't been this disappointed in a judge since I had to surrender my "World's Most Flawless Body" crown because my eyes were ruled to be 'performance enhancers'. They sparkle like a bejeweled sea, full of hidden vulnerability and a mysterious, sexy past you know.

There's a Reason They Give it Away

USA Today - a popular newspaper whose readership includes the illiterate, Pluggers (seriously, what the eff are these things), and business travelers who accidentally step on it while leaving their hotel room provide a Power Ranking of all 32 NFL teams. I am in the midst of putting one together myself, but may as well crap all over theirs. I'm out of TP anyway.*

UPDATE: Blogger hates this picture. Click it and it should direct you there. Or don't and go back to whatever you were doing before. That corner isn't gonna cry in itself.




*Editors Note: Fun Fact: If you wander around your neighborhood late at night covered head to toe in toilet paper and emitting low moans, women will still mace you. Also, mummies don't get chicks.

FUFL Chatroom: Everyone's a Cheater

***You Have Entered the FUFL Chatroom***

Dynamic_POV(ia): Ok Commish, how are we going to cheat this year? Unfair Trades? Have we gotten our orders?

Onwrd_XianSoldiers: Not yet. The checks haven't cleared. I'm thinking we'll form another secret alliance, and with any luck we'll be 4th & 6th again.

Dynamic_POV(ia): I'm in. I've had a good run the past few years, but I love this cheating. It's a Jersey thing. Have I ever mentioned I'm from Jersey?

Onwrd_XianSoldiers: Really? I wouldn't have guessed. But seriously I'm thinking... Oh Shit. Here they come.

Dynamic_POV(ia): Who? The rest of them? Damn.... OK OK. Be cool. Be Cool. --- Quick Hide behind this.

***Dynamic_POV(ia) & Onwrd_XianSoldiers have hidden behind a curtain***

***/The rest of the FUFL League Has Joined the Chat***

WaiverWear_er: Alright guys, I'm thinking we gotta form some sort of alliance against the Commish and his cheating partner. We all know their trades are bullshit, so let's get proactive on this. I'm thinking we shoot one or both in the head, execution style. Thoughts?

EPAhole: Didn't you win last year?

WaiverWear_er: Well yeah... I went 11-3 and totally owned. But that's not the point.

CoolHandLucas: Something smells bad here. Like the Jersey Turnpike or something.... But mixed with a special self-loathing... it's weird. I swear I've smelled it before.

stffd_this_weaver_myslf: I smell rats. Both of you did well last year. And one of you went from shithouse to runner-up in a single season. That's not right.

EPAhole: Uhhhhhh....

TheOhGeez: Both of you are busted. And the Treasurer did well too! He benefitted from the shenanigans!

BuriedTreasurer: Fuck.

WaiverWear_er: Wait? You both paid them off too?

EPAhole: The President of the United States has requested I not answer that question.

BuriedTreasurer: I did it with collected dues. I'm running some pyramid schemes on the side that aren't working out anymore...

CoolHandLucas: Well who else did? Fess the fuck up, assbags. And what the FUCK is that smell? It's like Newark mixed with Pittsburgh!

TheOhGeez: Fine. I paid them.

AHIPsBM: Me too.

CoolHandLucas: Shit. I paid them off as well. The pressure of a bad website was getting to me.

MyShipRunszaGround: Guilty as charged. But I did it for my daughter. I got roped into a bad pyramid scheme and... things aren't going so good. We may have lost everything. I'm drinking a lot of cough syrup lately. The CVS brand, if you can believe that.

***The FUFL chatroom has gone eerliy silent***

BuriedTreasurer: Uhhhhhh.... wait a second, what's behind the curtain?!

***BuriedTreasurer has pulled back the curtain to reveal Dynamic_POV(ia) & Onwrd_XianSoldiers***

CoolHandLucas: You guys are dicks.

Dynamic_POV(ia): Hey what's up everyone! I was just talkin' to the Commish here about...uh...

EPAhole: Dude... Just don't say... Anything...

TheOhGeez: So you took us all for a ride. Well played, assclowns.

MyShipRunszaGround: My world.. it crumbles like a stale sandwich.

Dynamic_POV(ia): Don't blame me. Blame my New Jersey heritage.

CoolHandLucas: Damn. He's right.

Onwrd_XianSoldiers: And I think I've made it pretty clear over the years that I don't like any of you.

AHIPsBM: That's true. He shoves me at work. One time he broke my clavicle. No one fucks with him.

BuriedTreasurer: OK - as the financial steward of the league, I suggest we forget what happened in the past, and up the contribution to $50 with the extra $15 each going to the Commish and POV in return for either not cheating at all or cheating on behalf of everyone.

stffd_this_weaver_myslf: Sounds Good.

AHIPsBM: Works for me.

CoolHandLucas: Whatever. Sure.

MyShipRunszaGround: We've resorted to eating feral dogs I kill with my hands.

EPAhole: Sounds dodgy. I'm in. With taxpayer dollars of course.

WaiverWear_er: Fine. I'll just have to fall back on my special mix of 10 statistical analysis programs I bought for $50 each, which are then drilled down via an ouija board, and finally verified by drowning potential witches to see if they float. I'll still beat all of your asses.

BuriedTreasurer: Then it's agreed. Glad that's all fixed. Until August then gentlemen.

Onwrd_XianSoldiers: This meeting is adjourned.

BuriedTreasurer: Runza - find me offline. I may have an investment opportunity for you.

MyShipRunszaGround: I told you, I'm not selling my daughter.

100th Post Spectacular

What you are reading is YFTS's 100th post. I know this cause blogger tells me so. I was gonna do something for the 4th of July, but it's my inalienable right to make no efforts beyond swallowing cheeseburgers on such a hallowed day. The rest of the days since then can be chalked up to my trademark sloth.

But this is a good time to get ready for the next few months, when YFTS goes back to its roots: chronicling the asshattery that is the FUFL fantasy league. In the word's of the Glasgow Diamonds, football's our game.

What to expect this season? Well there will certainly be a new Mocking the Draft, as well as some FUFL themed Chatrooms, a 'John Mayer Face' application, LOL(whatevers), running diaries, and the usual videos/pictures that mean less type-y and more drink-y for me.

We are in the process of expanding the site, so if you have any friends/colleagues/fellow hobos who have a fantasy league and wish that Yahoo! didn't fuck them over on message size, HTML, or pretty much everything in regards to the message board, YFTS might be just the home for them. A place where they can post degrading and embarrassing recaps of their league's week/month/season all for the low low price of their dignity.

Please have interested parties send an email to angrybeers (at) gmail if interested. Let them know that John Mayer is totally stoked about it.

Or he's maybe he's crapping. Whichever. The dude could fart in a microphone and they'd give his ass a grammy.

How to Catch a Snake

Jon Gruden is trying to "lure" retiring QB Jake Plummer to training camp. I have never been shy about my feelings towards Jake the Snake, and to be honest I was hoping Gruden planned to entice the bearded one onto what looked like a normal football field, but once Plummer stepped on it, he would fall into a pit of spikes that have skulls of other victims on them (they always do). Unfortunately for Tampa Bay, and the sport of football, Gruden wants Plummer to play instead:

Ten-year veteran Jake Plummer, acquired by the Buccaneers in a March 3 trade with the Denver Broncos, has not reported to this week's three-day minicamp. But Gruden continues to woo Plummer despite his stated intention to retire from the NFL, and acknowledged this week he will hold a roster spot open for him.

"We're talking about Jake Plummer here, so we'll reserve a roster spot for the 'Snake' a little while longer," Gruden said. "If it was Jake Jones or Jake Johnson or Jake Gruden, we'd probably bypass the holding pattern we're in right now. [But] this is one heck of a football player who has accomplished a great deal. At this point, he's retired, and hopefully, at some point, he changes his mind or reconsiders."

This is the kind of guy who isn't so much lured, but does the luring, if you know what I mean. All that's missing is a white van and a bag of candy.

My favorite quote is "We're talking about Jake Plummer here." Ummm.. yeah. You are. But if Gruden is intent on luring Plummer, here's what I found on the intertubes:

To Catch a Snake

1. Be sure the snake isn't venomous. You don't want your first attempt at snake catching to end in disaster! Observe the snake--its length, its colors, and other distinguishing features. Identify the species by using a search engine (e.g. +snake +red +yellow +"North Carolina"). If you are at all uncertain of what kind of snake it is, and are worried it might be venomous, call the local animal shelter ASAP and let them know before anyone gets hurt.

Analysis: Plummer is fantasy poison. You could drink a glass of lye and still have fewer stomach issues than putting him in your lineup. As for distinguishing features, that mustache is superb. Jake Plummer's other defining characteristic is that you have no idea what kind of QB he is at any given moment. So please, call the Tampa Bay Animal Shelter (727-586-3591)

2. Get a stick, or whatever you have at hand.

Analysis: This sounds promising. Go with it.

3. Hold the stick in view of the snake as a distraction. Snakes can only concentrate on one thing at a time. With its eyes on the object in front of it, the snake won't be as concerned with you, especially if you stand to one side

Analysis: Hmmm. Not where I thought it was going, but it might work. This singular-focus thing is new to me. It explains a lot of Plummers career. Like finding an open receiver AND throwing. I would suggest using the stick to poke him just in case. And by poke, I mean listen to that voice that saysstab stab stab stab stab.

4. Quickly and firmly grasp it directly at the base of the neck. This must be done close enough to the the head so the snake can't curve around and bite you. You might want to grab and hold the tail with your other hand so that it doesn't wrap around your wrist.

Analysis: This might be hard for Gruden, cause he's so little. Like Richie-Rich little.

5. Release the snake into an area that is far enough away to ensure the snake does not wander into your property again. When you let it go, let go of the head quickly, with the snake facing away from you, and step away immediately.

Analysis: This worked for the Broncos.

Personally, I like Alternate Method #1:

1. Lay a large garbage can on its side (ie Tampa Bay Buccaneers)
2. Sweep snake in with a household broom. Snake can easily be transported to a wilderness area, away from homes. Or is certain cases, a football field.
   

All this snake talk reminds me of my own encounter with the world's largest python - which was this morning, when I used the bathroom. Ladies, call me.

Sweet Cracker Sandwich

It's back. It's really coming back.

I haven't been this excited since the end of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Take THAT Lord Voldemort!

Adventures in Media-crity Part II

Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V strikes again. Only this time they went with the same headline. That's not lazy, that's just efficient.



Ed Note: Thanks to Reader BM for a second dose of sports laziness. Thanks to my BM for helping me lose all that weight this morning. Also, this post's title is the BALLS.

Sports Media is Easily Hypnotized

Stare into his cold, smoldering, hypnotic eyes. Or just use the image your competitor put up on their webpage. Either way.




Credit for this goes to Reader BM. Credit for clearing the men's room this morning goes to my BM.

Oh Mandy

via With Leather

Who Wants to go to Camp!

I love the Dugout. It's one of my all time favorites. If you do not read it, then you do a disservice to our national pastime - which means you do a disservice to our nation, and by extension, to our troops you freedom-hating terrorist, you.

Anyway, I am excited as hell for football, and in the spirit of minicamps everywhere, YFTS brings you the NFL Minicamp Chatroom:

QBQT: So Glad to be back at camp
with all u guyz. This'll be the best summer evah!

SlimVickings: Dunno dawg. I’m already
in trouble with the counselors. BTW, where the camp dogs at? I wanna fight one.

MarvelussMarvin: I love camp. Canoeing
and sailing are the bomb.


PacmanCoJones: I'm down wi' dat!
Dis one chick I know get me into watersports. Setcha back $200 bones.


Favregnugen: Woah, Adam - you're done
for the season. You need to go. You're not allowed here! Alright, it's time to get down to business. First drills, and then canoeing. Here we go, deep post routes, Randy's on my team...

QBQT: Uh... no he's not. He's on mine.


Favregnugen: What? No... but I WANT HIM.
Fuck you guys, I'm taking my ball and going somewhere else, then.

ImFeelingRandy: Give me that ball right now.

/pries ball from QBQT

QBQT: Owww you're hurrrrting me. That was so selfish.

TakeaTeeOh: Someone call me?

ImFeelingRandy: Nah, false alarm, playa.


UnprotectedRex: When do we practice INT's?
I wanna throw so fucking bad right now. I could prolly throw it through a brick wall if I wanted.

QBQT: Let's do that instead of sack races! Can we
Unkie Favre? Can we?! Huh? Can We?!

Favregnugen: Eat my cornhole.


/silence


Favregnugen: Alright. Here's how it's gonna be:
Tom throws to Randy, Rex to TO, Vick to Marvin, and I'll throw to whoever we drafted for a WR.

TakeaTeeOh: Who dat is?

DoraExplorah: Here I am Mr. Farve-y! Let's play!
I love Green things, Bays, and Packing! We'll have fun!


Favregnugen: Christ on a stick.

UnprotectedRex: Whoa... what's up 'lil hotness?

QBQT: Can she sign my baby next month?

SlimVickings: Aww snap dawg! I'd give her 9-1 against
some baby pups I got here in my jacket. She looks like a scrapper.

Favregnugen: You know what? Fuck all of you. Let's
just do this so we can at least tell ghost stories later! And what in the hell is all that creaking noise?!

MarvelussMarvin: My bones.

PacmanCoJones: Do they hurt when it rains?

This Seems Excessive

According to Deuce of Davenport this video has been around for awhile, but I've never seen it. All I can wish is that I never do again. DoD sums it up best: "I cannot even describe how unfathomably violent this Japanese baseball commercial is."



I could be wrong, but I think the atomic bomb may have given rise to a superhuman breed of screaming baseball players. It's just a theory, but then again so is gravity. I rest my case.