Beer bonging a gallon of chew spit while watching your pregnant mother get a$$ blasted by Ron Jeremy> Owning Larry Fitzgerald in fantasy football in 2014.

-Tehol Beddict

Greetings, and welcome to another excruciatingly sexy edition of, Disgrace/Delight! I am your honored master of ceremonies, the Tehol Beddict, and I come to you bearing gifts. Where in the name of the Elder Gods are these gifts, you ask? The presents I offer you, distinguished ladies and gents, is the verbiage I’ve spewed out for you below in the form of written communication. Take it all in (swallow, don’t spit) and leave your thoughts and questions when you’re finished reading, as each and every one of you deserve special attention (ladies and Sky especially ).

You know what the deal is here and you definitely know what the real is. This is: DISGRACE/DELIGHT!!! TAKE HEED!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

F#ck if your favorite writer dies, to me that’s my spot. I’ll celebrate his burial and eat at Ihop. Greetings ya’ll! Tis I, Tehol Beddict, Razzball’s resident mankini model and fantasy savant. Just because I get paid to flex my toned glutes, doesn’t in any way mean I can’t guide you to glory on the fantasy football field. It’s understandable that one would think there’s no way I could find the time to analyze each and every player in the NFL due to the fact I spend 6 hours a day doing Bobby Brown pushups and another 4 flexing in the mirror, but it is so. Having spare wenches around to massage my ass with warm milk while I watch game film is a major plus and without those Beddict groupies I’d be useless. We are now in crunch time and there is no time to waste my friends. I can only write about my bronzed buns for so long. Once your erection finally withers away move on to some in depth playa talk. Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Tis I, your servant, Tehol Beddict, here to talk some fantasy football and stimulate your minds. It seemed like Alshon Jeffery was untouched during the Bears losing effort against the Saints of New Orleans. I know what you’re thinking: ” Tehol, an attractive young man not being “touched” by a “Saint” is an oxymoron!” I know this to be true. I’ve dug oh so deep into the dark, crusty annals of our worlds history, and rarely have I read about a supposed “Saint” that wasn’t either a sexual deviant or just a disgracefully foul human being in general. If you doubt me, send your boys to Sunday school with no parental vision, just make sure they wear a wire. Does anyone even read my column? After this opening I’m guessing my readers just went from 2 to zero. Sky don’t edit this or I’ll show up at your front door with Bishop Eddie Long in tow, and you know what that means: A nice friendly game of “Butts Up.” Anyway, I know Jeffery didn’t follow up his record breaking performance this week with anything special, but the fact remains he is now heavily targeted and was missed on a few bombs last night against the Giants. This young bull has undoubtedly been blessed by the Elder God’s with immense size, talent, and stature. I can only imagine what he’s packin and I’m not speaking of weaponry. Although I suppose that could be considered weaponry as I’m sure it’s deadly when he uses it’s deep impact capabilities. Jeffery’s stat line from last week you want? Here it is: 10 receptions for 218 yards with a TD on 13 targets. Yea, he truly went Berzerk, and I’m not talking the horrific, embarrassingly bad, new Eminem song produced by that dirty old man, Rick Rubin. I’d start every week at the WR 3 spot or flex if I were you. But If I were you, then you’d be me, and you’d be betting oiled up with banana cream pudding with two female midgets licking it off for a hot new advertisement in Bangkok and telling me what to do with my fantasy roster. Again, nobody is really reading this far, right?

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Tis I, the extraordinary Mr. Beddict, here to shoot fantasy football knowledge from my fingertips to your brains. I’m gonna shoot. I’m gonna shooooooot.  After scouring the box scores for days on end, I’ve concluded that some of my guidance in the comment section might have actually been advantageous. And for that I give myself, Tehol Beddict, two snaps and a twist! It’s reigning men out here in the fantasy football world, and my duty here at Razzball is to handpick a squad of these demi-gods every week and dissect their targets and production for your reading pleasure. It’s been said Bill Simmons flogs the dolphin to my posts. There’s been rumors Peter King has my 1997 Playgirl foldout on his wall. What they don’t understand is that no amount of money could ever tear me away from Razzball, the home of legends like Grey, Rudy, and my sensei Sky-dog. Ok, that’s probably an overstatement. Five hundred would probably get the deal done. Enough about me (is that possible?), let’s get to the players we rode like Seattle Slew for the win, or the so called gladiators who performed like gelded steers during mating season:

Please, blog, may I have some more?