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Greetings! Loyal subjects, it brings me great honor to join you for another week where we can discuss the state of your fantasy football team while also throwing out guesses as to whom, between Christian Slater and Nicolas Cage, is packing the bigger papaya. Gotta be Cage, right? Anywhoosers, I had an absolutely stupendous time at the Seahawks game this weekend. Destroying the team that represents perennial losers like Meek Mill and the 76ers created immense joy inside of my once empty soul. However, I did stop at Buffalo Wild Wings on the way to Beddict Manor, as it’s where I met one of the friends of mine I took to the game. The food there is beyond godawful and I have absolutely no idea how this restaurant got so big. You’re telling me that no other company could create a similar sports bar (i.e. just a bunch of TVs), with EDIBLE food and waiters who aren’t high out of their minds? I haven’t been to Hooters in like five years but, oh ho-ho, that succulent meat is calling my name. Did you think I was talking about their chicken wings? That’s a negative, Ghostrider. Anyone been to Twin Peaks? There’s one close by and I’m highly intrigued. Let’s chat later about it.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

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Greetings! Well, well, well, what has the doctor pulled out of the musty pudenda of FantasyPros, but yet another Lord Beddict top-five finish. I do this not to gloat (NEVER!), but to enlighten you to the fact that this is all not just some game to me. I take the NFL more seriously than I now take the risk of getting and/or giving STD’s, and if you’ve witnessed my unsheathed rapier, then certainly you’d know that it’s first coated in layer of hand sanitizer, then swaddled with saran wrap, fitted in sausage casing, followed by a bubble wrapping and a blue whale magnum, all before crevice entry. But, honestly, I have loved this sport immensely for more years than I care to count, and as my hair greys and my forehead wrinkles, it gives me some (very little) peace of mind knowing that my brobdingnagian love of the sport finally paid some dividend in my life. And to think, I’ve been waking up in cold sweats in the middle of a nightmare where I’m just falling into nothing, screaming at the top of my lungs in terror, asking myself why I’ve wasted so many hours of my life on this meaningless shit. Waking up to text my therapist, begging her to help me find some purpose in this life before being hit by a semi-truck on my five thousand dollar bike or having my penis and scrotum ripped to many, many, large pieces by a great white shark. But it seems all those what I thought were useless hours, I could have spent focusing on my real job, saving relationships or just living a decent life, actually paid off in a major way. What a time to be alive.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight. Take Heed!!!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! What. Just. Happened? Six months ago, I would have literally bet my life against five grand that Donald Trump had zero shot at being the Republican nominee. Two months ago, I would have bet every red cent I have that he could not defeat Hillary Clinton in this epic battle for USA supremacy. It became quite apparent to me how insanely wrong I was about the whole sitch, right about when Trump did Killary like Frank Dukes did Chong Li in Bloodsport. One can only receive so many consecutive roundhouse kicks to the grill piece before they fall to the mat in a bloody and bruised pile of raw hamburger meat and shart-stained drawls. This is honestly the hugest upset in the history of politics, or maybe the biggest upset of any kind. I’m talking about in the history of the world. I am beyond shocked. A few months ago, I would have said I’m appalled, but Hillary is so insanely unlikable that the fact she could have been the first woman to preside over the United States of America wasn’t even an interesting story. Her campaign became desperate, as she posted edited attack ads going at Trump, making her look petty and weak. Not only did Trump win, but the Republicans managed to still maintain control of both the house and the senate! PLEASE RID THIS NATION OF THE DEATH TAX! This money has already been taxed. What right does the government have to it? Again, this money has already been taxed. I don’t even understand how this is a real thing. But, truly, this Trump shizz is beyond nuts, but kudos to him for staying the course and pulling it out. Imagine how incredible it would feel to win the Presidency after countless celebrities and people like Warren Buffett and Mark Cuban blasted him non-stop. I must say, that that’s quite impressive. You simply cannot deny this. Yes, my goodmen, Donald J. Trump got the last laugh here…

I am Tehol Beddict, and this is Disgrace and Delight! Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

DENVER, CO - OCTOBER 30: Running back Devontae Booker #23 of the Denver Broncos rushes for a touchdown in the third quarter of the game against the San Diego Chargers at Sports Authority Field at Mile High on October 30, 2016 in Denver, Colorado. (Photo by Dustin Bradford/Getty Images)

Greetings! Over these past few weeks I’ve often wondered: “Have they missed me since I’ve been gone?” Will my strongest supporters simply move on and attach themselves to any of the other talented Razzball writers, or will they mourn me by drinking and drugging themselves for the remainder of their miserable lives, slowly killing themselves in the memory of the Lord? What I can tell you is that I’ve spent the past couple weeks in the crater of Mt. Vesuvius, smoking mass quantities of peyote and drinking absinthe by the boatload, conversing with the Elder Gods about my future and what has been foreseen. The good news, you ask? My dream of my writing career surpassing my great many thong modeling accomplishments looks like a given, but the bad news, my goodmen, oh hohoho, you mustn’t never find out for only the scurviest of bottom feeders could possibly have the wherewithal to comprehend what I must do. They’ve rarely been wrong in their predictions for my life in the past. I mean, they did predict I would finish second overall in the FantasyPros rankings a few weeks back AND they informed me that some crazy hood rat would come out the woodwork, saying I owe her 500 dollars for blowing out the back of the gal watching her home while she was out of town. This gutter ferret had the gaul to threaten me on Facebook. ME! The Lord! My judgement shall be swift and merciless, and her destiny of bobbing for worm-infested apples, surrounded by diseased swine in the dank dungeon of House Beddict. Just because I put a dime piece in the perfect flex on her cheap ass bed certainly doesn’t mean that I broke and it certainly does not mean the Lord will throw some gold coins at her to shut her hole. Peasantry.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

2008-Green Bay Packers' Aaron Rodgers walks off the field after losing to the Atlanta Falcons 27-24. The Green Bay Packers hosted the Atlanta Falcons at Lambeau Field Sunday October 5, 2008. Steve Apps-State Journal.

Greetings! Oh how I wonder… will the Elder Gods bless me this week? Will they take the six pounds of Mexican schwag as a gift in place of my usual animal sacrifice, or will they rain piss down upon me as if they were R. Kelly (only if he had a full grown African elephant chonger) for not coming correct with some high-grade blueberry kush? Only time will tell, but what is time really anyway? Just a creative way of recording our meaningless existence on this earth as we build this fascinating technology-driven world, only for us to be eventually wiped out like the courageous dinosaurs before us, obliterated like krill being sucked up by a massive blue whale. Oh, to be young again. Building forts, playing General Chaos on Sega Genesis, catching frogs, measuring dick… And what is life now? Fantasy football?  Help me.

I am Lord Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take head!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

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Greetings! Oh ye followers of the Lord, I humbly summon you to partake in a birthday celebration fit for… fit for… well, a Lord. Tis my birthday on Thursday, and myself and the Lord’s keeper (Jay-Wrong) will be guzzling absinthe by the gallon while we watch Lord Grey Albright and Ralph Lifshitz joust to the death. I must mention the fact that Lord Grey is our liege Lord and his death can simply not be allowed. Therefore, Prospector Ralph must take one for the team. He will be deeply missed, and by deeply I mean that I will piss on his ashes and move his wench into my private quarters for a few months and add his children to my service staff. Spotted d*ck and rhinoceros steak sandwiches will be served for all of those interested in joining. Jay and I are both turning 25 this year [Jay’s Note: Haha.], and though we’ve accomplished so many tremendous things in our lives thus far, I see an even brighter future upon the horizon. Our partnership has become stronger than that of Siegfried and Roy as we continue to master fantasy football together as one. Let’s just pray neither of us is mauled by a Tiger. [Jay’s Note: Amen brotha…]

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight. Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

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Greetings! I hope this note reaches Jay in time, for tomorrow, I leave on a boat trip through the treacherous San Juan Islands, and yes my goodmen, I’m on an epic adventure in search of mass amounts of plunder and booty (mostly booty). The simple and honest truth is, I could be killed, kidnapped, ransomed, or even frog-humped and feathered for all I know. If I go down with my ship (150 ft. yacht), I’d like you all to remember me for the man I was… check that, remember me for the man I was going to be, for I haven’t yet come close to reaching the spiritual levels I’ve slowly begun to master on my way to level four ninja-sex master-God… and that would have been a sight to see. Lord Beddict at a level four? Only the Elder Gods could even begin to imagine the amount of swimsuit models impregnated by a man who will never actually meet the children. For they shall watch him from afar, through their televisions or computers, preaching to the world the sort of positive impact fantasy sports can have on child’s life. They shall know him as Lord Beddict, and they shall be proud. They shall be proud and say: “That beautiful, sexy, shredded, poetic, charming, loving man, once stuck his meat thermometer in momma’s turkey. It’s an honor.” Or something of that nature. You get what I’m saying, don’t you? [Jay’s Note: LOL] No? Good, because I have no idea what I’m talking about.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

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Greetings! Young Lords and Lordettes, we are almost a quarter of the way through the NFL season! I cannot believe it. I haven’t fully enjoyed the sport as I usually do, for I’m dealing with many intense personal issues, while also trying to grow as a human being. Some things must come before this incredible game we all have come to lean on for entertainment, and in my case, develop an unhealthy obsession with. So, I ask you this, as your trusted Lord; Put your phone down for a few minutes and kiss your loved ones. Close Twitter for an hour and toss your mate’s salad. Throw the ball to your dog! Go on a hike! For the love of the Gods, I beg of you, don’t become like me, for I have a screen addiction. Oh, it’s real folks. I seriously need to have it taken away from me on Sundays and pretty much every day of baseball season. There are more important things in life than professional sports. Not many, but some. I am here to serve.

I am Lord Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight. Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

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Greetings! I come to you, live from the waterbed of a vixen, freshly slain, lying next to me, quivering in a frothing pool of sweat after I gave her the Lord’s chalice. What a week I’ve had my good men, I tell ya! It’s good to be back in the saddle, as I feel like this post brought me back closer to my roots. It has nothing to do with the fact this woman just sucked the life out of me and spat it on my back, or maybe it’s the fact I doubled my Wellbutrin, but either way, I’m thinking I’m back!

I am Lord Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

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Greetings! As we speak, I’m rectally inhaling MDMA in order to get through this post without breaking down into hysteria over my rankings from last week. To those of you I’ve wounded, I give my sincerest apologies. And to those of you I helped…anyone? ANYONE? Never mind. You’ve got to be realistic about these things. Anyway, I absolutely adore that beautiful-minded Eli Manning this week. He gets a Saints defense that just got bent over a barrel and shown all 50 states by the Las Vegas Raiders, and, oh, by the way, they just lost their best corner. Say one thing for the New Orleans Saints, I have absolutely no freaking clue on who the next man up is. I suppose that’s not surprising, considering I was unaware that this nobody who was injured was their best DB. That’s right ya’ll, the Saints defense is thinner than Giraffe schlong, and I, for one, plan on taking full advantage of it. Doubt me if you dare, for the last occurrence where I was doubted, I ended up with my chiseled glutes spread with my cousin’s tongue between them. She was a second cousin and not by blood. [Jay’s Note: Wait, what?]

I am Lord Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?
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