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Greetings! Tis I, returning to the glorious world of writing after three long years studying the art forms of Yoga, selflessness and celibacy. I won’t dedicate a significant amount of time discussing the past, as I prefer to live in the now, but in order to make an agonizingly long and fascinating story short (Details saved for the book), my Guru instructed me to expunge my pen name, Tehol Beddict; for in order to shed the purest levels of light and love, one must crawl from the shadows, exposing their mind, body, and soul, for all to witness, for all to judge like Sir William Wallace on the execution block. Yes, there’s a reasonable chance I have my genitals and intestines removed with a dull shovel, get stretched like Rita Farr making sweet love to Mr. Fantastic, only to then receive the kind of whooping Adrian Peterson himself would be proud of before ultimately being beheaded……….BUT, there’s also a decent chance that Mel Gibson makes a movie detailing the events of my life. Say one thing for Mel Gibson, say he’s a psychotic anti-semitic, racist, who’s fall from grace has been been more horrendous than celebrity that is not currently rotting in prison. You know who also had a fall from what was a brief grace? My man, Tygod! The Rodfather! Read on, if you’re curious as to why the man is ranked by PFF, ahead of some of your fantasy faves like: Drew Lock, Josh Allen, Teddy Bridgewater, Daniel Jones, my boy Gardner Minshew and Joe Burrow. He’s two spots behind KYLER MURRAY! Interested yet? Take heed! 

 

Those of you who know me from back in the olden days (maybe like two of you) will undoubtedly recall that I was the FIRST analyst to go on the record saying Tyrod Taylor would win the starting job for Buffalo in camp, and be a solid fantasy option at that. There I go again, being the opposite of selfless, but I’m just trying to reiterate the fact that I’ve been Rod supporter since his days at Virginia Tech. The man was able to produce at a high level for the Bills, with arguably the worst weapons we, as human beings, have ever witnessed. Sammy Watkins was injured for what seemed like the entirety of Taylor’s Buffalo tenure, leaving Charley Clay, who was also incredibly injury prone, as his number one option. What Taylor was able to accomplish in that pathetic situation was almost godlike in my opinion. I won’t dwell on the past, as again, I like to live in the present, so no need to speak on the atrocities that occurred in the dumpster fire which some of you refer to as the Browns of Cleveland. Let’s talk about what’s happening in the gorgeous, currently locked down city of Angels! 

Please, blog, may I have some more?

The Ravens stats in this loss weren’t so bad if you converted them to metric…

I’ve never quite seen politics be so invasive in our everyday lives, and to see it finally hemorrhage into a “football” Sunday and essentially infiltrate America’s favorite escapist sport is just a shame. While my years don’t represent a robust breadth of experience to draw from, as any middling in-their-thirties Xennial would say, it’s easy to state that beyond the labor disputes and other benign conflicts that arise when large private businesses and governments interact (i.e. stadium issues), recently there have been only two resounding issues where national politics has bled into the world of sports and vica versa: Steroids and Concussions. Remember the good old days?

To be clear, this conversation actually started last season when Colin Kaepernick took a knee during the National Anthem starting in the 2016 preseason to advocate equality and to raise awareness of Police violence against the Black community. At the time, I voiced the same opinion I hold today: It was a flawed message, not that it wasn’t a good one, or one that I didn’t support, only that powerful and effective activism requires a knowledge of the issues, something that Kaepernick clearly didn’t have a grasp of, especially and specifically when he recited long-debunked right-wing talking points in terms of Hillary Clinton’s public record and relied on the lazy “they’re both the same” arguments. And while his “kneeling” protest was provocative and an overall positive (how can practicing your constitutional right to free speech ever be a negative?), my opinion and his actions probably matters less when you realize that this conversation started long, long ago, during one of the darkest poxes in the history of not just America, but the world: the enslavement of men by other men. And this conversation has never really reached a satisfactory conclusion. Hell, I would say this conversation has never really reached a satisfactory state of debate…

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?