Greetings! I write this to you, loyal subjects of Beddict, from the trap-house, the one I share on lengthy drug-bingeing weekends with a pink-haired beauty named Maleficent. I’d give the skin off my balls for 20 minutes of slumber, but you know what, upsetting sweet Jay by not having a post submitted today would latch a gonorrhea burn to my soul for the remainder of my days on planet earth, and that’s something I’d prefer not to live with. Let’s proceed, shall we, aaaaaahkay!

So, I’ve noticed many an “expert” have fully turned to the “zero running back theory” this season, and much like the time I accidentally witnessed two men play hide the salami, I’m somewhat curious… Should I adopt this theory as my own, maybe even attempt to say that I invented it after witnessing a distinguished member of my home league run the table on his way to fantasy glory five years ago? I, much unlike Ralph Lifshitz, who stole my entire style and ran with it to fame and glory, don’t have the blackened soul of demon, therefore taking credit for something I didn’t actually do (even though I kind of did) just doesn’t sit right with me. Did I mention Ralph stole my soulmate and now lives with her and my children in an old trap house I used to cook meth at in Boston? WHY, RALPH, WHY?!?!? All I did was gave you a style for you to run with. Smiling in my face, glad to break bread with the God… I’m getting sidetracked here, or should I say: ” I digress”? Do people still say that? Truly got to a point where I’d become furious upon reading that statement. Anyway, “I digress” yet again, and for that I apologize. Where we we? Ahhhhh, yes, zero running back theory. Does it work? Sure, if all the receivers you draft early have monster years and the running backs you draft late all become breakout stars. Or, my goodmen, you could flip the whole game on it’s back and give it the kind of pounding Peter North would be proud of by, WAIT FOR IT, WAAAAAAAAAAAIT FOR IT… taking advantage of your league-mates going to this system, while you sit back, blow a bag to the face, and calmly select a pair of elite running backs in the first three rounds, creating a powerhouse of the likes we haven’t witnessed since the Elder Gods openly walked the earth, burning grown a** men with beams of light from their eyeballs and piping down any women of their choosing. WITNESS!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Totally awesome Thursday Night Football, right? A wretched performance by T-Pain, Bob Kraft’s trout-ass trotting around the field like a prized gelding, the Steelers headsets “malfunctioning”, and of course, GROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK, is all I really took away from a game that was missing what was basically every player I wanted to watch, due to a suspension for smoking that sticky icky. The game went pretty much as I expected, other than D’Angelo treating the Patriots run defense the way my favorite porn star and close friend, Mandingo, treats his co-stars. No sir, I am not sold on the Patriots being a contender this season. My apologies to the mass-holes, who verbally beat me like a piñata each and every day on Twitter for that epic Seattle Seahawks fail in the Super Bowl. Your time is coming. Oh yes, your time is coming (laughs maniacally while coating my naked body in Vaseline). But seriously though, who cares about real football!? This is a fantasy site, ya’ll! Communicating with the Elder Gods is a complicated and somewhat challenging affair; It involves an immense fire pit, sage brush, a quarter oz. of Peyote, a fifth of Everclear, animal sacrifice, and a bit of luck. Even when they accept my summons and pass the peace pipe with me, deciphering their language and riddles is a most difficult thing to accomplish, but I do my utmost, and that is all one can ask of a man such as myself. Below, is what the Elders have foretold for Week 1.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Start ’em and Sit ’em. Take heed!

You can check out my rankings here, for all your roster needs…

Please, blog, may I have some more?