I DON’T GIVE A %$# WHO IS ON YOUR FANTASY TEAM

I applied for a gun license today. Not for self-defense, just as a public service act for next time some lame-ass decides to recite his starting fantasy lineup to me when I just ask┬áthe simple question, “How is it going?” Is there anything more lame than a conversation about what is essentially the NFL’s version of Dungeons and Dragons? Can someone relay the message to people: you are not an owner, you don’t have a team, and you are boring as all shit.

I’ve spoken to people who actually skip family events due to fantasy football. I appreciate dedication┬áto your passions, but when your passion is something fake that might ultimately net you 400 dollars at the expense of your family, you might want to seek help. Priorities, people.

Imagine perusing family photos years from now, “Oh, this is your graduation. What a day, I remember how proud I was of you when you approached the podium to get your degree. I wasn’t able to attend as I had Flacco going around the same time, but what a moment for you. Did you end up going on to college or was that it for your educational career? Here’s you in the big family wedding photo. My head is down cuz I’m checking on my two running backs, they were going off that afternoon against some suck-ass defenses. And of course our baby’s baptism. Gosh, was I on cloud nine. Week 16…. playoffs. Blumpkins against my undefeated Rim Jobs. I was supposed to hand the baby to the priest, but I accidentally gave him my phone as I had just received a text that my QB was injured, so the phone ended up in the holy water, but the important thing is we were all there together for the baptism of our sweet little, what’s his name? Oh, her, my bad.”

Get a life, people.

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