Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Message To The Douche At The Bar Sunday

Hi, my name is Mike. I play fantasy football. Obviously, you do too. Fantasy football is a blast. It makes Sundays just that more interesting. Now I can watch the Niners/Raiders shitfest and actually care because I happen to have Randy Moss on my fantasy roster.

But you know what? No one cares who the hell is on your roster. We sure as hell don't care that you only lost your last matchup because you left Santana Moss on the bench and he scored, like, 50 points or something. We already know you're a moron. You don't need to remind us.

We certainly don't give a rat's ass that you're on pace to set your league's record in scoring, or that you drafted Rex Grossman "for shits and giggles" in the last round of your draft, and now look what he's doing.

And you know what else, douche? We really don't need to hear you, the fake coach, screaming at the real life head coach on TV because he yanked your running back in favor of the goal line back. We're trying to enjoy the game, but you've been whining, bitching, and bragging for the last 3 hours about your fucking fantasy team.

And while we're at it, hey, Mr. Gambler Wannabe at the the end of the bar... we don't give two shits about your 5 team parlay card. If you're playing one of those cards instead of placing your bets at an online sportsbook, you've already announced to the world that you're a retard. Retards always get 4 out of 5 picks on their card, too.

Now, can I watch the next game in peace? Oh, you also play in a pickem' pool? Great, now he's telling me about that shit, too...


Blogger Mini Me said...

HAHA. This is so true.

11:56 AM  

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