Typical me. Always trying to out-think the room and look like the fucking hero with the miraculous brain and stunning cock. But here's the kicker. I didn't even do that this year. Usually I switch my lineup up like 6 times before I make it final on Sunday but not this season. I decided to grip it and rip it like Tiger Woods all year and it led me to a 10-3 season and on the fast track to defending my crown. So what the fuck do I do yesterday? Keep doing what I'm doing, right? Wrong. I'm up 20 from the previous week, so I start thinking, ya know? Start playing pocket pool with my own balls. Feeling myself a little bit because I'm able to eat like a fat kid and still be built like Manny Pacquiao. I can do it all. Like, "hey Ricky Williams is going up against the Bills. I haven't played him once all season but why not slide him into the flex spot? Take out Jeremy Maclin because he hasn't had a big game in 2 weeks. Just go with Desean Jackson and Dwayne Bowe. Terrific!" Yeah fuck that. FUCK THAT WITH A WATER FALL OF DIARRHEA COMING FROM MY MOUTH. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK. What the fuck was I thinking? IS RICKY WILLIAMS EVEN THE STARTER?!?! I'm not God. I'm not Coach Belichick. I can't be a bold maverick all season and then all of a sudden turn into the master of panic. Moving pieces all around the board like a god damn chump. Maclin put up 15 points yesterday. Percy Harvin is on my bench and he just scored a TD on the first drive of the game. I'm pissed off. I'm flustered. I'm furious. I have nobody to be mad at but myself and it's becoming an all too familiar feeling.
P.S. Go choke on a bag of dicks. All of you.
P.P.S. No, I don't know where one would obtain a bag of dicks. Kind of an awkward request though, right?
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