grayjoy

Perhaps more recently known as Reek, Theon Greyjoy is the heir of Lord Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands in the ever popular Game of Thrones saga. At the age of nine, he was left as a hostage by his father with the House of Stark as a condition of surrender. Despite being a hostage, Theon was treated well by they Starks, and he a Robb Stark became best friends. Depicted in the HBO series as an arrogant and narcissistic person on the outside, Theon is actually weak, insecure, and unsure of himself. After turning on Robb Stark when he was sent home to Pyke to seek an alliance with Balon Greyjoy, through a series of events, life for Theon took a drastic turn. He unknowingly attempted to seduce his own sister, was rejected by his birth father, seized Winterfell, was betrayed by his own men, and eventually found himself the tortured prisoner of Roose Bolton’s bastard son, Ramsay Snow, who cut off his manhood (literally), renamed him Reek, and turned him into his own human pet.

But now on to some legitimate Gray joy…

Please, blog, may I have some more?

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Overall: 71-58-1, Locks: 7-1

Greetings! Beddict here, weak and heavily medicated. For you see, I banged my chin on a flawless white marble kitchen countertop in a home owned by Celine Dion while shooting a soft core porn for Cinemax that should be out sometime in 2016. That’s right ya’ll, Beddict’s got 15 stitches in his chinny-chin-chin, and you’ll witness it on Razzball Radio and The Fantasy Sports Network next Tuesday. I was thinking about taking advantage of the situation and getting a chin implant. such as this one here, but after speaking with the Elders, it was decided that now is not the time.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Some of you may remember the show from the 90’s about Camp Anawanna.  The few of you that don’t know it, or are too young to know it, please note that we are no longer friends of the pen pal variety.  It was a dumb show, but it fits here, so grab a seat, some Bugles, and give me six minutes of unadulterated non-porn time.  So this week’s under-looked startable option is Cecil Shorts III.  The third thing throws me off every time I say it. I associate him to Thurston Howell when I would rather be thinking of Ginger.  Okay, I need a moment to find my pants, talk amongst yourselves. The topic? The Department of the Interior. (It focuses on the outdoors.) Discuss. Cecil and the rest of the Jaguars face off against the Colts this week in Indy.  Stick around for the reasoning behind my madness and maybe a few new jokes that you may be able to share around the water cooler.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings!! Tis I, Tehol Beddict, back again to praise those players who went above and beyond in pleasing their fantasy owners. It’s also a place where I purge my detestation of the players who either blew plush match-ups or were just outright dreadful. And there’s something that’s been vexing me as of late. Something more troubling than Nicolas Cage’s career choices, something more perplexing than Jim Carrey and Mike Myers’s epic fall offs, something even more disturbing than my and Sky’s combined porn collections. That something, you ask? Colin Kaepernick. After the Niners made the Super Bowl in Kaepernick’s first year on the job, I envisioned greatness; a taller, stronger Michael Vick. Instead, we’re getting a Joe Webb clone (no offense to Joe Webb. I love that guy. But still…). Except Webb would more than likely have at least ONE rushing TD on the season. Seriously, I haven’t seen a regression like this since Steven Segal after he dropped the classic Under Siege on us, following it with a bunch of DVD’s that I now use as beer coasters. [Jay’s Note: You shut your mouth about Glimmer Man. That movie is a classic.]

The Niners have been a bit banged up on the offensive line, but no more than any other teams in the NFL, so I’m not allowing that as an excuse. The front office has brought in a multitude of new weapons including Stevie Johnson, Carlos Hyde, and Bruce Ellington. I won’t even mention the name of the bum tight end they drafted in the 2nd round last year, but still another offensive weapon nonetheless. When you add Crabtree, Boldin, and Vernon Davis to the mix, we should be talking about one of the, if not the best arsenals in all of football. Instead, Kaepernick has put up the worst QBR of his career and the offense simply isn’t functioning. Over the past two seasons, San Fran has one of the most pathetic red zone offenses I’ve ever witnessed. Much of this has to do with the gross play calling of offensive coordinator Greg Roman. Either Roman needs to go, or Kaepernick needs to go, for this is getting out of hand. I thought Kaepernick was selected by the Elder Gods to take over the NFL. I used to believe he was superior to Russell Wilson. Now I wouldn’t take him over Tyler Wilson.

This is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Robert Selden Duvall has had a role in countless films that have helped me enjoyingly pass the time over the last 30-something years. Most will remember him for his role as Tom Hagen in The Godfather and The Godfather II, but few will know that he actually won the Oscar for Best Actor playing country western singer Mac Sledge in Tender Mercies in 1983. Heck, I’ve never even heard of that movie. When it comes to good old Bobby Duvall, I am more of a Days of Thunder kind of guy. “You can drive through it Cole!” Damn, that’s a great flick. It’s like Top Gun with race cars. But it’s not the movie I’d like to mention today. In 1988, Duvall and Sean Penn teamed up to play cops in the C.R.A.S.H unit that patrols East L.A.. Duvall, as Bob “Uncle Bob” Hudges, a 19-year LAPD veteran, is partnered with rookie Danny “Pacman” McGavin as the two work to keep the peace in East L.A. by trying to keep the street gangs in line. The film tells us the tale of these two police officers and their approach to dealing the Bloods and the Crips.

Colors was an outstanding movie, but it is not the reason this post is entitled “Colors”. That reason would be thanks to Jonas “Gray” and Alfred “Blue”, whose colorful names lead a cast of relatively unknowns, or I should say “unowneds”, to come together as a team that combined for 191.04 points and would have easily beaten any other lineup in Yahoo! half point head-to-head leagues.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Welcome back my lovelies!  It seems the Fantasy Gods continue to smile on yours truly, as I pulled out a 5-1 record this week again.  Yes, winning feels good, especially when you basically have a team held together with duct tape and the leaflets from the floor of a porno theater.  But alas, for many of you, my “Black Widow” curse feasted upon quite a bit of your RB1s, WR1s, and everything in between this week.  Hey, I warned you, my lust for man souls has become insatiable.  Sure, I also lost Hillman, Thomas, and Sanders in the process, but it seems this has allowed some rookie fresh meat to step into those shoes.  Mmmm, there’s nothing like a fresh, young rookie-meat to get my blood flowing, even if it costs me and I have to scramble to fill that slot.  So, as the title to this week’s article suggests, and as you may already know, I am a glutton for punishment.  And yes, some punishments can be oh so enjoyable.  So, gather up those hooptie lineups, grab some lotion and a box of tissues (ladies, stock up on batteries for your B.O.B.) and follow me down the path of depravity to this week’s Hit it or Quit it.

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I’m going to go out on a limb and say that most of you have never heard of nor seen an episode of the television sitcom My Favorite Martian from the mid 1960s. Who am I kidding, I was born in 1977 and barely know much about the show. I watched a random episode or two when I was much younger, and probably again about 10 years ago during a late night online poker tournament on PokerStars. Remember when it was legal to play online poker in the good old U.S of A.? Dem some good times. My Favorite Martian starred Ray Walston as Uncle Martin who was a human looking extraterrestrial from Mars that piloted a one-man spaceship that crashed near Los Angeles.  Tim O’Hara, played by Bill Bixby, discovered Martin and took him in as his roommate. The show centered around the two and their adventures as they kept Martin’s martian origin a secret. The first two seasons were filmed in black and white, while the third and final was in color.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Week 10: 8-5, Overall: 63-53-1, Locks: 6-1

Greetings! What up doe!? It is I, Beddict, returning to your warm embrace after another successful lock of the week call. Imagine how much dough I’d have if I bet my entire Razzball salary on each of my locks and kept letting it ride! Enough money to get my mom out the hood, with enough left over for a state of the art, chicken coop, for my loving Beatrice. This week, I’m going all in. Join me or sit back from afar, either laughing at my demise or throwing rose petals on the ground, I walk as the Elder God blessed grand champion of gambling ATS. Have you witnessed the ESPN dude’s record this year, or last year for that matter? Yeeesh! I’m already 0-1 this week after foolishly putting my faith in the Bills, but let’s not dwell on the past by talking about how disgraceful the Bills offense was, or even how Ryan Tannehill ended my fantasy life by missing Mike Wallace on two HUGE plays. Seriously, Tannehill is gutter trash when it comes to throwing the football deep. It sickens me to levels beyond human comprehension… but as I said, let’s not dwell on the past…WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!!?!? F*CKING WHY!?!?!?!?!?

Please, blog, may I have some more?

With four more teams on bye this week, two of which have a usable option at the position of tight end in Witten and Daniels, I’ll be focusing on the return of the “red-nosed” receiver of the tight end variety, Kyle Rudolph.  He has been absent since the early days of TV antennas and no remotes this season.  For those who don’t know, that was Week 3.  That, to me, seems like forever ago.  I was probably carrying around a Dukes of Hazard lunchbox, you know, the one with Daisy prominently displayed on the front?  Week 3 for Rudolph saw a whole new system of play for the Vikings, as they were only two weeks removed from the Adrian-ocpalypse that nuked their run game and made us pick up the “Great” Matt Asiata.  The thing that makes me wanna take more notice is that they had a different and most likely better QB to get him the ball than Matt Cassel, whom he had 12 targets with in 2 games. He then went into Week 3 with new starter Teddy Bridgewater not completely healthy and left the game after garnering 3 catches on 5 targets for 27 yards.  He was originally drafted as your TE1, and may soon return there. And that’s what I am here to convince you of, or at least try to via the internet, where arm twisting and wet willies aren’t quite the same.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

DO NOT say I didn’t warn you. I made it abundantly clear that starting Jay Cutler was a grave mistake, an error so sacrilegious, not even the usual animal sacrifices would appease the Elder Gods. All week I declared that it was irresponsible journalism to have Cutler in anybody’s Top-10 for this week. Cutler’s numbers in Green Bay are right there in front of everybody’s face. It’s a known fact that he’s David Hasselhoff, blacked out on the bathroom floor eating cheeseburgers type of pathetic when playing in Wisconsin. Hopefully owners realize how ridiculously lucky they were to get that incredible TD from Brandon Marshall, making Cutler’s day somewhere approaching respectable. The only reason he put up decent numbers two weeks ago at New England was because the Patriots went to prevent defense once they were up something like 200 points. The Bears are an absolute joke right now, and my respect for Cutler has collapsed to Michael Lohan levels. Inexcusable all around performance by the Chicago Bears and fantasy analysts everywhere… hold tha phone! I just looked at Jay-bone’s rankings, and now I feel like a real d*ckhole. Let me point out that Jay is one of the most accurate rankers in the world, and that even geniuses like himself (Cutler thing), Kanye West (R&B album that somehow didn’t ruin his career), and Roman Polanski (an affinity for underage women), are prone to minor mistake every now and again. [Jay’s Note: That’s why they call me Jay… Wrong.] I’ll pray to the Elders, that he doesn’t’ delete me on Snapchat for this, or even point out the fact that if it wasn’t for his editorial work, it would look as if a 9-year-old child put this together. [Jay’s Note: You’re too hard on yourself. More like an 11-year-old…] Let’s just move forward with all of our lives, shall we… Gods, I F*CKING DESPISE OWNING JAY CUTLER.

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

Please, blog, may I have some more?