C eh, N eh, D eh
Sup fuckos. Look who scrounged up a fuckin writeup. No, it's not because I have any sort of addiction to the tens of eyeballs of attention these columns receive. I'm simply trying to be consistent with all things Fantasy Football.
Whether it's my teams or the columns, I just want consistency with my actions:
Simple, neutered, ineffective, shallow, actions.
But most importantly, with purpose.
That's right. I come out strong in one or fewer leagues, grab a couple wins and then spend the rest of the season wondering why I still have over $60 waiver wire bucks.
Then as tradition would have it, I miss the playoffs and begin the ritual of cursing the Commissioner while burning an effigy.
Why the fuck should I care, you ask
Because I wrote this shit from across the pond, border in Canadia.
Such Warm Hosts
And by warm hosts, I mean they are living, capable and healthy parasitic hosts.
Holy shit so many of those Quebeckians fucking hated us. And on their Thanksgiving weekend no less! Despite them having to put us on hold to move to a different room because there was too much noise from patrons, no one was open when we called.
Sure, I fuckin get it. French Canadians think they're so fucking special because they've discovered what they believe to be the raw ingredients to pure happiness:
- Maple Syrup
- Hockey pucks (and/or "single" aka "single point" aka "rouge")
- Cheese
Ingredients aside, I really need to focus on how in awe I was of the shit service.
I figured I was being a nice and thoughtful person when asking whether we could possibly exchange our currency for their goods and/or services. Shit, they even said "yes, please follow me to your table."
And yet, when I want to order a French Onion Soup with no cheese, apparently I'm some sort of war criminal whose money isn't worth the cardboard its printed on.
Which frankly brings me to the most important takeaway from this trip:
Fuck cheese
That's right.
Fuck cheese.
This fucking squeezed titty milk curds that people will literally pay money for and eat is nothing but the coddled athlete of the food world.
Just like some dipshit who can run a 4.1 40 and bench 225lbs 35 times will be granted a handful of DUI mulligans, the same shit happens with cheese.
Dinnering Under (the) Influence (of cheese or booze, whatever)
How many times has some drunk college fuck just sprinkled two cups of shredded cheese between two tortillas and called it a meal?
Or how about some shithead "cook" who thinks that just because cheese is awesome and can perform at such a high level in other pastas, they're going to go ahead and dust this seafood plate with fucking cheese. WHAT THE FUCK. SEAFOOD? CHEESE? FUCK OUTTA HERE.
And then there's that half-baked fuckwad who thought it might be a bright idea to establish the concept of, "hey let's just fuckin throw a bowl of melted cheese with a couple plates of random sliced up foods at some chucklefucks, and pretend it's anything more than just lazy, and fucking disgusting."
Fuck you fondue. Stupidest meal I've ever fucking paid for.
Oh I'm not done, either.
Cheese can't fucking do everything you assholes
The amount of cheese that vegetarians eat is fucking stupid. Stop acting like this 5-tool food is in fact, a 9-tool food. Stop shoehorning this incredible fucking talent into positions it has absolutely no instinct for.
If you're not getting enough protein or whatever, just start eating some motherfucking beans. Fuck the haters - eat some beans in the theater.
Otherwise, I will never fucking ever come over for dinner. I'm happy for you and your positive lifestyle choices - but fuck you for inviting me over and having nothing to eat but fucking lasagna that's got 3 different ricottas, 2 types of parmesean, and cheese made from the milk of at least 3 different mammals (guess correctly for first dibs on dessert, which is the greatest of them all: Cheesecake).
That supposed lasagna is nothing but 8-cheese soup. I'm going to go ahead, eat the largest "corner" piece and then spend the whole night ripping the smelliest, loudest, most wet-piece-of-ham-slapping-a-watermelon sounding farts all night long.
And yes, I absolutely bring two extra pairs of MeUndies (Use referral code kwm4R for 20% off your first purchase) for these dinner parties just in case I happen to really make my point loud and clear.
So please, stop taking cheese that you could just slap on a cracker and eat during pre-dinner small talk and fucking melting it onto an entire plate of food like it's creating some new incredible experience,
People talk about Raclette like it can mask the deficiencies of a bad plate of food like Patrick Mahomes can hide a poor offensive line and/or running back.
Except Patrick Mahomes is a superdupermega star athlete who has been training his whole life and is otherworldly at his position.
Raclette is $wag Kelly at best - but like, only after he drunkenly wandered into someone's home and got himself arrested.
Fuck you raclette, the fuck was I capitalizing you earlier for?
It's the implication that pisses me off
Drives me fucking off the wall that some people treat cheese like it's fucking David Robinson or something. Such a great food that everyone likes, is respectful, doesn't curse, works hard, is a team player, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda.
Yeah? Well, fuck cheese and fuck David Robinson.
People just assume everyone likes the Admiral. And people just assume everyone likes cheese.
WELL THEY FUCKING DON'T.
If I'm asking for no fucking cheese, DON'T FUCKING GIVE ME CHEESE.
If I'm asking for no fucking cheese, DON'T SAY I WON'T BE ABLE TO TELL IT'S MIXED IN.
I don't want to be that disagreeable shitbag at dinner, I just want to order something that sounds good and enjoy my meal.
But too many times I'm bullied into just accepting the assumption that the flavor I fucking hate so god damn fucking much won't be noticeable by me, the person who fucking hates that flavor so god damn fucking much.
And to top it all off, THE SHIT WASN'T EVEN THAT MIXED IN. YOU COULD SEE THE FUCKING CHUNKS OF PARMESEAN ALL THROUGHOUT.
Yeah, the shit looks great doesn't it? Perhaps the only thing really lacking was a couple extra pieces of bread.
WRONG. FUCKING WRONG.
The fucker puts the plate down, and immediately my CHEESE-O-VISION FLIPS ON AND,
THERE'S FUCKING CHUNKS EVERYWHERE.
Yeah. Thanks a lot Antoinette-Jacques, you fuckface. I can barely tell it's there.
The Conclusion (Don't worry, I'm almost there just back and forth and ..)
As one could probably imagine, this whole essay was to get to the bane of my existence: Parmesean.
If I could wish something away, as well as any sort of trace of memory of it (so no one can fondly remember the thing and attempt to recreate it), then fucking sayonara to parmesean.
The fucking gall that people have when it comes to this stinky fucking cheese is obscene. Get that shit out of the fucking grocery stores, it stinks up the fucking place. Get that shit off my fucking pastas, no one fucking asked for it. And most importantly, stop fucking putting it into good food you fuckers.
I can't even fucking say I'm lactose intolerant due to a very Larry David-esque situation I got myself into once. I'm fucking trapped in a cheese prison living on this Earth.
Shout out to Asian food for being my strongest ally. Obviously that counts Indian food. All I have to do is avoid any paneer and I'm more than safe.
So yeah, in conclusion: fuck cheese, y'all.
How can you not be romantic about baseball?
Baseball on Film from Adam K on Vimeo.
Fortunately, Canada happens to be in America, so I too enjoyed America's pastime in the great white north.
How about them deflected-into-the-stands plays? What the fuck was that shit? Saved a run and the Sox ended up narrowly escaping with a win ... and the fucking series after multiple walk-offs? I'd feel bad if the Rays didn't get plenty of practice dealing with odd deflections and careens playing their home games in a giant rube goldberg machine.
Fuckin hell, we got a rematch against the Houston Cheatstros? Well, bring your trashcans and brooms, if it isn't a sweep I'm declaring shenanigans.
Remember when the Yankees got eliminated despite their fans thinking they had their next banner wrapped up?
Urban Meyer
Yeah. I'm not going to let this just disappear.
And I'm going to keep this story alive in the only way I know how: with memery
John Gruden
Welp, that about puts the nail in the coffin for Football Guys everywhere. Or at least I hope it does.
It used to be that this mythical concept of a Football Guy was some hardass dude who was the first in/last out of the gym, someone who loved talking in ridiculous over-the-top metaphors, would wear shorts throughout the coldest months "just because", would eat paint, no social life in favor of gametape, most likely divorced, etc...
Well, that was the image that some fuckin PR firm or something came up with.
In reality, a football guy is some old school racist, mysoginistic predator, fragile fuckboy, homophobic bigot thinking that they have some sort of inside track in life because they'll die an early death due to their diet of grass clippings, shit-quality brown liquor or piss beer, red meat, and dogwhistles.
This piece of shit would really said some absolutely abhorrent shit, and then just smile and joke about some SPIDER Y 2 BANANA fuckall and everyone would eat that shit up.
Fuck him and all those dipshit Old School Football Guys out there (cough Joe Pa, Bobby Petrino, Chris Doyle, Chris Malone, Rod Rust .. the list kinda just goes on).
People like Al Davis were truly the exception. Not the rule.
This piece of shit Gruden thought he was going to carry on the legacy of the Raiders, and all he did was absolutely fucking smear it with poop and racism. He's the complete antithesis of what the Raiders were about historically. John Gruden is a fucking waste of Raider merch, dude never deserved to come back and I hope he's routinely mentioned as one of the worst coaches they've ever had.
And yeah, worse than fucking Conkright. Worse than all those shitbags they had in the 200s too: Lane Kiffin, Tom Cable, Hue Jackson, Tony fuckin Sparano.
Fuck you Gruden, you fuckin coward.
And guess what?
WE'RE COMING FOR YOU NEXT, ADAM FUCKFACE SCHEFTER
Watching sports n shit
All I got to report on really is the only game I kinda sorta maybe caught a little of:
Patriots n Tejans
I was able to piece bits of this game together via refreshing some of my fantasy lineups as well as WhatsApp, Slack, and the occasional smoke signal.
Our [N]OLine is a disaster.
Defense is also a disaster. At least one nepotism reference was thrown out there.
Damien Harris: disaster.
Judon rules. Welcome back Jamie!
Brandon "Big Play" Bolden.
Hunter "H*ck Yeah" Henry!
The Texans attempted some wacky fuckin punt of some sort? I gotta find that clip.
Texans fucking suck. I can't fucking believe the Patriots won.
OH I'M NOT DONE
I hate that I missed week 5, folks.
Well... I hate that I lost more. And then I also hate that I forgot to set a team name. And then on top of that, I just hate Fantasy Football. But hey, you know that very famous life motto:
Shit happens. Deal with it.
SO HERE WE FUCKIN GO.
Kings of the Landfill
1. Matural Light
A fucking juggernaut. Again. We get it, you're good at this shit.
2. The Impossible Kid
Fuckin runnin' some shit right now, riding a 4-game winning streak to the tops of the charts. Thanks for absolutely smoking me last week, you dick.
Grandmaster Trash
3. Flip Flops & Coronas
You're absolutely hitting your god damn stride right now. I'm kinda surprised you lost two weeks ago - kinda forgot that shit, but it doesn't matter because you topped 200 fucking points in week 5 and are far-and-away the top scoring offense in the league.
4. Chubb and Tug
Gotta toss you up here because I just love me a good win-streak over losing-streaks.
Garbage Gold
5. The Scallywags
Get a winning streak and then we can talk a little bit about Trash status.
6. Trinidad's Swollen Testicles
Looks like you're suffering from classic Early Season Bad Luck with your super-fucking-fancy 700+ Points For and a top-3 Points Against. You better get your karma re-aligned for the rest of the season, otherwise I just might have to get bold for more of your rankings
Trashbag Bronze
7. I Am The Captain Now
Dude. 3-0 and then a two-game losing streak. Fucking brutal dude. I believe in you duder. Just right the Ship and dude it out, dude. Dude.
8. mza
Not all that creative or original, but you got the one-game win streak, you got the most points scored from the rest of us losers, you get this spot.
Incorrectly Sorted Recyling
t9. Seyton Manning
I can't really separate you two. Despite the 50+ point difference in Pts Agnst and .. good fucking lord dude, $16 left? Anyway, you and yer partner in crime have a pretty good incorrectly sorted recycling bond right now.
t9. SCHWAAAAAAAB
You fucker. I swear to God I may never rise you higher than 9th again after this name change. I Am The Captain Now and Flip Flops & Coronas used to be the toughest team name to consistently type out - but with Trinidad's Swollen Testicles showing up, I've been really owning the whole Capitalization Of Each Word Thing Without Too Much Of A Problem.
...then you. I still have no fucking clue how many A's are in that fucking team name. I literally just have the name copypasted all over my files because that's the only way I ever type it out. I have to paste it. So many times I've started to type it, get as far as, SCHWAAA then just give up because all the A's blend together and one of my eyes starts to bleed.
So yes. Tied for 9th.
Garbage Juice
11. 91 Shrimp
What the fuck happened here. You go 1-0 and then proceed to lose four straight games? That's fuckin terrible. Who could possibly do worse than that?
12. TeeBeeDee
Well fuck.
Fin.
Solid week gents that I watched from Quebecois-tinted lenses, so obviously now I have nothing but complete and utter contempt for my US league members. How futile our attempts at Fantasy Football playing are, despite all the energy and resources we expend what is truly the ends we are trying to achieve?
Immortality. Via Fantasy Football Trophy plaque (in case it wasn't obvious).
Take care dudes, love ya. Have a wonderful weekend!
